“Does he treat you well?” John asked, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “I could perhaps bear this if I knew that.”
“He treats me… fine.” She wasn’t sure what more to say. Her father winced, evidently knowing what ‘fine’ truly meant.
“There is something you must know, Grace.” He leaned toward her, out of his seat. “Has your husband mentioned to you his father’s gambling?”
“No.” She thought of the day before and the very casual statement Philip had made about his father’s affairs appearing in scandal sheets. She couldn’t remember reading any such stories but presumed they must have been some time ago. He hadn’t mentioned any gambling.
“I imagine the gambling is a closely guarded secret. A man who protects his reputation so fiercely would find it abhorrent to read it in the papers. To my shame…” Her father paused, sighing. “…it was my doing.”
“Yourdoing? What do you mean?”
“The Duke’s father and I were friends, once.” He looked away into the fire and the flames that spat. “It was a long time ago. To my shame, I introduced him to the gambling table. It has served neither of us well, has it?”
Grace gripped her father’s hand tighter.
“We do not need fortunes to be happy, Father,” she urged him to understand. “All I ever needed was you, not money.”
“You have the best of hearts, Grace. You always did.” He patted her hand. “It was my doing, though, the Duke’s penury. If he does not treat you well…” He eyed her cautiously. “There are stories I could give you about his father’s gambling ways. If they were in the scandal sheets, it would cause him greater shame, I’m sure. It may persuade him to be kinder to you.”
“Father!” She leaned back in shock.
“I’m only trying to protect you,” he said with desperation, his eyes growing wide. “You deserve kindness, my love.”
“And I will not get it by threatening my husband. Father, I would never do that to him.” She shook her head firmly.
“I thought you would say that.” He sank back into his chair, a sad sort of smile on his lips. “Your kindness does you credit. I just know you deserve that kindness in return.”
“Don’t you worry about me.” Grace topped up his drink again. Strangely, her problems with Philip didn’t seem important when she was looking at her father and seeing for herself just how sick he was. The most important thing in her life wasthis.“Have you tried a new physician yet?”
“I’ll look into it.”
“Father, please —” Before she could say anymore, voices were heard in the corridor.
“There was a horse. I’m sure I saw one.” It was Tabitha’s voice first.
“I would know if my daughter was in my house, Tabitha,” Althea declared.
Grace didn’t even have time to jump to her feet or consider a hiding place. It was inevitable having to see her mother again so soon.
The door opened, and in the doorway stood Althea and Tabitha, together. Tabitha smiled warmly as she laid eyes on Grace, but Althea was so shocked that she jumped backward and was in danger of knocking poor Tabitha over.
“Grace!” Althea exclaimed in alarm. “What are you doing here?”
“She is our daughter. Where else would she be?” John said with no amount of hidden resentment. He took Grace’s hand for she had moved to stand, and he urged her back onto the footstool. She knew that look — he was asking her to stay with him a little longer yet. She smiled, silently assuring him that she was going nowhere.
“There was no knock at the door. Duchesses do not call unannounced.” Althea looked at the window, clearly surmising quite easily just how Grace had entered the house.
“I came to talk to father,” Grace explained. “To tell him about our outings.”
“Oh, yes,” Althea scoffed with no small part of derision in her tone. “We know all about youroutings.”She flicked her fingers at Tabitha who disappeared back into the hallway to retrieve something.
“Yes,” Grace whispered, looking down at her teacup. She had a feeling she knew what was coming. The night they had attended the Almack’s Assembly Rooms, Althea had been there. “I imagine you were no fan of my gown that night at the assembly, Mother, but I liked it. It was a nice change to wear such a dress.”
John smiled at her.
Philip seemed to like it.
The way Philip had ripped that burgundy dress off her in his study had spoken volumes. She tried not to shudder as she remembered the pleasure of him pulling that gown off her and entering her, exploring her with the passion he had done that night.