Page 10 of Everything But the Earl
“I’m serious. But of course, we cannot marry each other, so it does not matter.”
“It does matter,” said Anthony. He succeeded in pulling off his boots, and then he stood. “I love you. You have my whole heart as well.”
Anthony took Lark into his arms. Lark sometimes seemed to love Anthony a bit resentfully, as if this relationship was not what he wanted in life. And yet now, Lark put his arms around Anthony’s shoulders and held him tightly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Anthony still worried he’d lose Lark to a marriage to a woman—and that would be a true threat because Lark was attracted to men and women equally, and also was not the sort of man to commit infidelity—but for now, they had each other.
“We have a marriage of sorts,” Anthony said now. “I realize we live in separate homes and manage our lives separately, but at night, we have a partnership.”
Lark nodded against Anthony’s shoulder. “I agree.”
Anthony slid his fingers below Lark’s chin and lifted it. Then he kissed Lark soundly.
“Let us go to bed,” Lark said, rather breathlessly. “I need you tonight.”
And Anthony went, because he needed Lark, too.
Chapter Three
“Caernarfon is Welsh,isn’t he?” asked Penny.
“Yes,” said Grace. “And it’s Ca-nar-von. That’s how he says it.”
“Do you think he will offer for you?”
Grace flopped down on the settee. They were in the Midwood family sitting room, awaiting what promised to be a parade of female callers wanting the gossip on what had happened between Grace and the earl. Penny had come over early to confer with Grace before the horde descended. Grace stared at the ceiling now. “I do not know if he will offer.”
“I guess the more important question is, do you want him to?”
Grace had been thinking about this nearly nonstop for the three days since she’d been caught with Owen. He was a handsome man, there was no doubt of it. His dark hair was trimmed into the latest fashion, brushed forward toward his face, and he had unusual eyes. She hadn’t been able to tell their color from the lighting in the Rutherford ballroom, but she supposed they were hazel or green. He was quite tall, with broad shoulders and an athletic body. He didn’t seem to care much about the latest fashion, and his dress, whenever she’d seen him, had been appropriate but simple. Only white cravats, no garish colors.
How would he be as a husband? What she knew of him indicated he’d be courteous and kind. But was that enough to build a marriage on?
“We hardly know each other,” said Grace.
“Do you think him handsome?”
Grace sighed and sat up. “Yes. Incredibly.”
“A fine start. Do you think he is a good man?”
“I do, but I only know that from his reputation.” And she only knew that much because she’d asked every person she came into contact with in the last three days what they thought of him.
Penny nodded. “Perhaps that is all you need.”
Grace disagreed. Marriage seemed like an altogether unwieldy institution. Her own parents barely tolerated each other; they rarely spoke and were never affectionate. It seemed to Grace that marrying a man who was practically a stranger to her would yield something similarly cold, which Grace had no interest in. On the other hand, the kiss she’d shared with Owen had been anything but cold. It had made her feel hot all over, in fact. But how could she reconcile those two things?
Saunders, the Midwood butler, knocked on the doorframe. “Misses Elizabeth and Helena Hastings would like to know if you are in to callers.”
Grace stood. She glanced in the mirror above the fireplace to make sure her hair didn’t look too wild. “Yes, Saunders. Please show them in.”
The two sisters arrived in a cacophony of female giggles and tittering. Grace was already exhausted.
“We’ve heard the news.”
“Has he offered?”
“Is he handsome?”
“When is the wedding?”
