Chapter Six
“Are you daydreaming again?”
Grace looked up to see her friend, Lady Prudence Wetherby, watching her curiously.
Grace blinked. “Pardon?”
They were in Prudence’s parlor for their monthly meeting for the benefit of the Orphaned Children’s Relief Society. A half-dozen other ladies were present. A servant had wheeled in a tea tray, and the women were nibbling on scones.
“Exactly what I thought,” Prudence whispered. She set her teacup and saucer on a dainty end table and turned on the cushioned sofa to look at Grace. “You haven’t been paying attention to anything that’s been said this afternoon.”
“That’s not true, Prudence.”
Prudence made a face that suggested she didn’t believe a word Grace said. Prudence was right, of course. Their mothers had been good acquaintances, and Grace and Prudence had been friends since they were eight years old. Prudence loved to gossip, and Grace recognized the gleam in her friend’s eyes.
Prudence lowered her voice further and leaned close. “Are you thinking about a man?”
That got Grace’s attention. She sat up straight. “Why would you think that?”
A mischievous gleam lit Prudence’s gaze. “A lady has a faraway look in her eyes when she is thinking of a gentleman. Are you thinking of your dance with the fair-haired gentleman at Lady Parson’s ball last month?”
No. Grace dropped her scone on her plate. Her mouth had suddenly gone dry; she reached for her tea and gulped. Her thoughts weren’t consumed with her brief ballroom dance or orphans, but of a tall, dark gambling club owner who had immersed himself in sin for ten years.
Quite a different picture.
Prudence raised the teapot. “Perhaps another cup of tea will help to stop your daydreaming and sharpen your senses?”
She didn’t need to sharpen her senses. They were very attuned to the unexpected kiss of a disreputable rogue. The trouble was she couldn’t stop thinking about it. Goodness, did that make her a wanton?
What had started out as a harsh kiss had unexpectedly turned tender and tantalizing—a kiss to make her insides quiver. Grace swallowed as she raised her teacup for Prudence to pour. She needed more tea to soothe her throat and calm her pounding heart.
Grace felt a nagging guilt for not being entirely truthful to Prudence. Her friend knew about Grace’s work with the milliner’s ledgers and her gift with numbers, yet Grace had kept her arrangement with Ian Swift secret. Prudence knew the baron gambled and that Grace had devised a way to help with the household, but Grace had never confessed the true extent of her family’s financial troubles or that her dowry was dwindling. Plus, there was Prudence’s propensity for gossip. She would never intentionally seek to harm Grace, but nevertheless, there was the risk.
Prudence’s gaze snapped to the doorway. “Why, I don’t believe it. Lady Castleton is here. Mother didn’t expect the dowager to attend today’s meeting.”
Grace jerked and tea sloshed on the ruff of her sleeve.
“Careful!” Prudence admonished as she set down the pot. “Whatever is the matter with you?”
Grace ignored her friend. Her gaze was riveted on the doorway where the Countess of Castleton stood. Grace had been introduced to the lady at Almack’s. Lady Castleton was a popular hostess with the ton. When she’d expressed interest in joining their charitable work, Prudence’s mother had been thrilled, and she’d introduced both her daughter and Grace to the lady. But Grace had never suspected the dowager had a son who owned the Raven Club.
Who would have thought?
The lady was tall, attractive, with blonde hair. She wore a black bombazine mourning gown. On most women, the color would make their complexions appear sallow, but she managed to look elegant. She was, quite simply, the epitome of grace and good breeding.
Grace scanned the room of women. Everyone knew that Lady Castleton’s son, the earl, had had been tragically killed in a riding accident months ago. No one expected her to appear to today.
Did any of them know about the existence of the countess’s other son?
Lady Castleton took the seat on a chair across from Grace. “Good afternoon. My apologies for being late. I was delayed by family.”
Curiosity welled within Grace. Had she visited Ian at his home? Or, heaven forbid, his club? She couldn’t imagine the woman donning a mask and strolling into the Raven Club. The thought was as ludicrous as it was alarming.
Watching the countess beneath lowered lashes, Grace pondered Ian Swift’s past. Why would the son of an earl leave his family to open a gaming house? Something must have happened to make Ian depart.
Something tragic or disturbing.
Grace shifted in her seat. The meeting seemed to drag on and on for the remaining hour as the women discussed future activities for the orphanage.
Lady Taddlesworth, a portly woman, reached for her third scone. She was one of the founding members of the Orphaned Children’s Relief Society and by far the most opinionated. She was also a good friend of Lady Jersey’s, one of the powerful patronesses of Almack’s. “Now that everyone is present, I have good news. We received a generous donation of one thousand pounds.”
Gasps reverberated around the room.
“From whom?” Lady Wetherby asked.
“An anonymous donor,” Lady Taddlesworth said.
“We can use part of the funds to purchase coal to heat the orphanage for the winter,” Prudence said.
“Good idea,” Grace said. She thought of the impending weather—the cold rain, snow, and biting wind that could whip through the London streets and chill a person to the bone.
“The headmaster’s office needs refurbishing,” Lady Taddlesworth said. “We shall use the remaining funds for this purpose.”
“The headmaster’s office?” Grace said. “The children need an instructor. Someone competent in mathematics and reading and writing.”
“Why on earth would they need lessons?” Lady Taddlesworth asked.
“With education, they would have a chance to improve their lives,” Grace said.
“Almost all will be servants in households or work in the factories. That is an improvement for their lives.”
The topic was too important to allow Lady Taddlesworth to push her aside. “I respectfully disagree,” Grace said. “The children’s needs should come before the headmaster’s office.”
Silence descended as all eyes turned from Lady Taddlesworth to Grace.
“I see.” Lady Taddlesworth’s lips thinned. “Let us ask what others think.”
Lady Castleton arched a brow as she looked at Grace curiously. “Perhaps Miss Ashton is correct. With such a generous donation, we can afford to retain the services of a teacher and refurbish the headmaster’s office.”
Lady Taddlesworth opened her mouth to protest, but Prudence, her mother, and several others quickly agreed it was a splendid idea.
Soon after, the meeting ended and the ladies rose. The butler was busy fetching the guests’ belongings in the vestibule, and fine carriages began to line the drive.
Lady Castleton touched Grace’s sleeve. “I thought your idea was worthy. The orphans should have a chance to be educated.”
Grace looked into the lady’s brown eyes. They were a shade similar to Ian’s, only hers were a softer hue while his were darker and piercing.
“I’m sorry for the loss of the earl,” Grace said.
Sadness touched her eyes. “I have another son who has been away. My hope is he will return soon to take his place.”
Grace wanted to help the lady. If tutoring Ian to return to his proper place in Society would ease Lady Castleton’s grief, as well as help his sisters find their own places in that world, then Grace began to see her task as more meaningful than she had realized.
“I’m certain he will, my lady,” Grace said.
Lady Castleton sighed. “Thank you, but I’m afraid not much is certain when it comes to him.”