Chapter Fifteen
The following afternoon, Grace was descending the grand staircase as a knock on the front door sounded. Rather than summon Stevens, she opened the door to find Ian on the front step. Her breath caught in her throat.
He wore a tailored coat, which made his shoulders appear a mile wide. He grinned, his lips full and sensual. A lock of dark hair fell a little forward onto his forehead, and her fingers itched to reach up and smooth it back.
“Good afternoon, Grace.”
“I wasn’t expecting you, my lord.”
He leaned to the side and glanced into the empty vestibule. “Is your brother home?”
“Adam is in his bedchamber. Why?”
“I’d like to take you both to Gunter’s for ices.”
The statement was as surprising as his unexpected appearance on her doorstop. “Gunter’s?”
“I have yet to meet the boy. I will be his brother-in-law in three days’ time.”
Three days. The reminder of their upcoming wedding made her stomach flutter in anxiety. She knew the date, of course. Ian had previously written to advise her that he’d obtained a special license and reserved the church. Looking at him in the bright afternoon sunlight, she still couldn’t fathom that he would be her husband. It sounded so strange, so foreign.
“It’s kind of you to think of Adam, but his Latin tutor is scheduled to arrive later this afternoon.”
“Cancel the tutor. Tell the boy it’s a surprise.”
No doubt Adam would be thrilled to miss his lesson. What eight-year-old boy enjoyed Latin?
“Hurry, Grace. My sisters wait in the carriage.”
His words sent a sliver of alarm through her. “Oh! Why didn’t you say so? Give me a moment to pen a message to the tutor and fetch Adam.” She hurried up the stairs and entered her brother’s room. Just as she’d suspected, Adam was more than happy to oblige, and fifteen minutes later, brother and sister joined Ian in the vestibule.
Grace made the introductions. “Adam, this is Lord Castleton.”
Adam gave a quick bow. “Hello, my lord.”
Ian knelt down until he was eye-level with the boy. “Hello, Adam. Please call me Ian.” He shook the boy’s hand.
Adam openly studied Ian. “You’re to marry my sister?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Ian gave a lopsided grin. “Because I like her.” He glanced up at Grace and winked. “And she likes me.”
Grace pursed her lips. The man’s arrogance was beyond bounds. Adam, on the other hand, nodded as if the simple explanation made perfect sense.
“I’ve always wanted a brother,” Adam said.
“How about more sisters?”
Adam wrinkled his nose. “I already have one.”
Ian chuckled. “I have two. Ellie and Olivia are in the carriage. They are waiting for us. Did Grace mention our destination is a surprise?”
Adam’s face lit. “She did.” Clearly the distasteful notion of having more sisters was pushed aside by the mention of a surprise.
“Do you like ices or ice cream?”
“Both!”
“Gunter’s is the best confectioner in London.”
“Gunter’s!” Adam all but flew out of the house and into the drive where Ian’s carriage waited.
Grace smiled at Adam’s enthusiasm. “How did you know what my brother would like?”
“What boy doesn’t like sweets?” Ian held out his arm. “Shall we?”
He was certainly charming and likeable when he put forth the slightest effort. He escorted them both outside where a shining black carriage, and two matching bays waited. The conveyance was just as luxurious as the one that had transported her to Ian’s home in the middle of the night, only this carriage had the crest of the earldom emblazoned on its lacquered side.
The driver lowered the step and Grace ascended and settled on a padded bench.
Adam and the two girls were already inside.
“Hello, Miss Ashton,” the girls said in unison.
Grace recognized the redhead as Ellie and the delicate blonde as Olivia. “It’s lovely to see you both again.” She didn’t know what Ian had told them about their hasty upcoming nuptials.
“We were surprised to hear about your engagement to our brother,” Olivia said.
“Olivia,” Ian said, a note of warning in his voice. “We spoke about this.”
“What Olivia means,” Ellie said, “is that we were surprised to hear the news, but we are happy our brother has chosen you.”
The carriage set off at a brisk pace, and Grace smoothed her skirts. “I realize you must have questions.” Grace glanced at her young brother who was gazing avidly out the window. “Adam, you must have questions, too.”
Adam shrugged. “Do you think Gunter’s has pistachio ice cream?”
Well, that answered the question about an eight-year-old boy’s curiosity. Grace turned to the sisters. “You must be curious?”
“No longer. We are relieved it is you and not one of the stage actresses Ian had been involved with in the past,” Olivia said.
“Olivia,” Ian said in a near shout this time.
Grace smiled; she couldn’t help herself. The girls were refreshingly honest.
A short while later, the carriage came to a stop at 7 Berkley Square in the West End of London. Grace looked out the carriage window to see a charming storefront. A sign that read Gunter’s and bore the image of a pineapple hung over the door. As she watched, a waiter burst from the shop. He was carrying a tray of ice cream, and he dodged around hackneys and a brewer’s cart to take it to a carriage parked on the opposite side of the street.
“Can we eat inside?” Adam asked as he stared wide-eyed into the confectioner’s bay window.
“I wouldn’t dream of denying a boy,” Ian said, then leaned close to Adam. “Pistachio is my favorite, too.”
Adam cracked a wide grin, then reached for the carriage handle and hopped out. Ian stepped out after the boy and helped his sisters to descend, then took Grace’s hand.
“He reminds me of myself as a boy,” Ian said.
“Were you trouble?”
“I climbed every tree on our country estate, no matter how high. I also liked to play pranks on my siblings. I gave my nursemaid gray hair.”
She pictured him as a mischievous boy and burst out laughing.
Ian paused. “I like the sound of your laughter. I haven’t heard it enough.”
A sensual light passed between them, arousing and intimate at once, and her heart thumped uncomfortably. She dropped her gaze. It was too easy to get lost in the way he looked at her.
Ian opened the door to the confectioner’s shop, and the little bell chimed as they entered. Adam stared at the array of treats on display in the open cases—Italian wet and dry sweetmeats, marshmallow, creams, sugar plums, pastries, ices, and numerous ice cream flavors including pistachio, orange, lemon, and even jasmine and elderflower. It was an irresistible buffet for a boy.
“Can I have more than one serving?” Adam asked.
Ian grinned. “You can have as many as you can eat.”
Adam hopped from one foot to the other in a dance of boyish excitement. Grace watched, amazed. Adam hadn’t been this carefree or happy in a while, and guilt pierced her breast. Over the course of the past months, he’d had trouble sleeping. Had he instinctively sensed Grace’s anxiety over the baron’s gambling and her worries over money?
Her guilt mounted. Had she been so consumed with their imminent future that she’d neglected Adam’s immediate needs? She’d never brought Adam to Gunter’s. It was a luxury, but at the look of rapt adoration on Adam’s face she experienced a pang of regret.
Ian leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Do not think of the past. Once we are wed, we can bring Adam here every week. He’ll soon tire of pistachio.”
She tore her gaze away from the display cases to look up at him. How could he possibly know her thoughts? And more importantly, how could he be so kind toward a young boy he’d just met?
The confectioner approached, and Ellie and Olivia ordered lemon ices and Grace ordered orange. Adam and Ian remained at the counter after Ian had encouraged Adam to sample several flavors to decide which he’d like to accompany his pistachio.
The women chose a table by the window and sat at wire-backed chairs. Finely dressed ladies and gentlemen enjoyed their sweets at neighboring tables. Gunter’s was one of the only establishments in which a gentleman could be seen with a lady without harming her reputation. Several couples were taking advantage.
Grace tasted a spoonful of the ice, and the mix of sugar and citrus was a burst of refreshing flavor. It reminded her of the orangery at Prudence’s country home.
Ellie tasted her ice and looked at Grace. “Have you returned to the milliners?”
Grace lowered her spoon as the hair on her nape rose in warning. “No, I haven’t. Why do you ask?” she asked as casually as she could manage.
It was Ellie’s turn to look nervous. She pushed aside her ice and leaned forward. “Do you promise to keep a secret?”
“A secret?” Grace’s gaze darted to Ellie’s sister, Olivia, who was seated at the table with them.
“It’s all right,” Olivia said. “I know the secret, too.”
“Okay, then. I promise to also keep your confidence,” Grace said.
Ellie nodded. “The owner’s son, Jonathan is most handsome.”
Grace released a held-in breath. Ellie was simply asking about a boy, the milliner’s son. She recalled the look that had passed between them in the shop. It had been harmless flirting between two young people.
“Mrs. Kent is kind. Her son, Jonathan is polite to the clientele and works hard in his mother’s shop.”
“Polite? Yes, I suppose so.” Ellie stirred her ice with her spoon.
“My sister is fond of him and wants to return for another bonnet,” Olivia said.
“Olivia!” Ellie said. “Do not put words into my mouth.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“It may be, but I also know there can be nothing between us. But I can notice him, can’t I?” Ellie said beneath lowered lashes, then she grasped Grace’s hand and looked in her eyes. “Promise you will not tell my brother.”
“I already promised to keep your secret. But you must be aware that your mother would frown upon such a…friendship.” The countess would be shocked, then furious. The daughter of an earl could never be with a shopkeeper’s son.
“I know what she would say. Ian would probably agree with her,” Ellie said.
“Are you certain? Your brother is not traditional in his beliefs.” The moment the words were out of her mouth she wondered if they were true. Ian had not lived by Society’s standards. The first time she’d seen him at the Raven Club, he’d been dressed as if he’d stepped out of a boxing ring. He owned a gambling club. But none of that would matter when it came to his sisters.
“Shh. Ian’s headed this way now,” Olivia said.
Ellie exchanged a glance with Grace. The young woman’s eyes were pleading as if to say, Please don’t mention our talk to my brother.
“A promise is a promise,” Grace said, to put her mind at ease.
The topic was soon forgotten as Adam and Ian joined the ladies.
Adam’s face was flushed with excitement. “Grace, did you know he has thoroughbred race horses?”
“I didn’t.”
“Ten from Tatterstall’s. They’ve won races,” Adam said as he ate a large spoonful of ice cream.
“Please don’t speak with your mouth full,” Grace said.
Adam swallowed. “I want to ride one.”
“One day. With your sister’s approval, of course,” Ian said.
Adam whirled to face her. “Can I, Grace?”
“We’ll see,” she said.
Adam turned back to Ian and soon they were engrossed in talk about horses, fishing, hunting, and whatever else Ian had done on his country estate as a youth. Grace was struck by how well they were getting along, like they’d done this half a dozen times before.
The baron spent little time with his son, and Grace realized that Adam was starving for male attention. Never in her dreams had she thought her brother would get it from Ian. The earl didn’t seem bothered by a young boy’s questions; rather, he seemed amused and entertained.
“Look! Gunter is decorating a cake,” Olivia said.
The confectioner held a cone-shaped pastry bag and was embellishing a cake with beautiful cream rosettes. He worked quickly and expertly, and the layered confection was fast becoming a culinary masterpiece.
“May we go watch?” Ellie said.
“Me, too,” Adam said.
“Go ahead,” Grace said. The girls led Adam away, leaving Grace alone with Ian.
Ian’s eyes held hers. “Now that it is just the two of us, let us talk of the wedding. Is there anything else you require?”
“I’ve already had three gown fittings.” The day after their engagement, she’d visited the dressmaker on Bond Street. The modiste had not been pleased with the tight schedule, but Ian had instructed the woman that he would be paying for the gown. Thereafter, the dressmaker had been nothing but pleasant with Grace.
“If there are any additional expenses you incur, tell the shopkeepers to send me the bills.”
She eyed him warily as the nagging in the back of her mind refused to be stilled. “Why are you doing this?”
“I can afford everything.”
“No. Not that. Why agree to marry?”
“Ellie and Olivia will no longer need the Dragon. They will have you.”
Grace’s lips curled in a smile at the mention of Lady Taddlesworth’s nickname. “No more Dragon. I’m happy to help your sisters.” She stirred her ice, then regarded him closely. “Why else? You’re wealthy enough to retain another widow’s services to abet your sisters. Why else would a man who refuses to marry change his mind?”
“I would think you’d remember the evening at my home when we were discovered together.”
She gave an anxious little cough. “It’s not a memory I’d soon forget, but my point is that you do not have to act honorably.”
“You assume the worst of me, then?”
“No. It’s just—”
“Ah, you do assume the worst. Just because I’ve owned a gaming club does not make me a blackguard.”
“Even though I dislike such establishments, I haven’t thought of you as a blackguard in days.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Days?”
To her dismay, her voice broke slightly. “We haven’t known each other long. Why would you consent to marry?”
He took her hand in his, and his thumb drew lazy circles around her knuckles. “That night, when you asked me to kiss you, I was eager to oblige.”
His look was so galvanizing, it sent a tremor through her. “You asked me to marry you because of a kiss?”
“Is it so hard to believe? We have desire. Many couples have married for less. We have enough to build a future.”
A future. He appeared honest, sincere, and she was at a loss for words. Could he possibly be that affected by a kiss? Her heart danced with excitement and something more…something infinitely more dangerous.
She pulled her hand away and made a pretense of swirling the melting orange ice with her spoon.
“The truth is that I’ve thought of little else,” he said.
Not trusting her voice, she took a spoonful of ice. A knot rose in her throat, and she swallowed the sugared sweetness.
“Tell me you’ve thought of it, too,” he said.
“I have.” The thought of acting coy or lying didn’t occur to her. She couldn’t deny the spark of excitement at the prospect. There was something about him that had drawn her from the beginning. He was so different from any other man she’d known.
“God, I want to kiss you again.”
She choked on her ice. “Here?”
She glanced at the crowded shop. He’d lowered his voice and no one could hear, but if anyone glanced in their direction, would the tension between them be obvious?
“If I could,” he said.
Every cell of her body yearned for what he offered. Perhaps he was right. He may not have courted her with flowers and chocolates and rides in the park, but they had spent time together in his home, and the attraction between them was tangible. He believed they had more in common than most engaged couples. She was beginning to believe him.
He leaned forward to whisper close to her ear. “I look forward to our wedding night.”
Heavens, so did she.