Page 37 of The Mistress

Alaric stared at him blankly. “I fail to see the relevance…?”

“I do,” Forbes murmured appreciatively. “A baptism means there is the possibility that Grace was registered as and given the surname of the countess’s husband, as would be expected when the child was born within the confines of that unhappy marriage.”

“Except Grace was not the earl’s child, but that of the countess’s French lover,” Alaric reasoned.

“But the previous Earl of Redding did not publicly announce that, nor did he cast out his countess as being an adulteress,” Forbes continued. “Nor is he alive any longer to dispute the claim of Grace’s legitimacy. Considering George Harper’s obvious fondness for her, I doubt he would wish to do so either. Indeed, I believe he would welcome being able to publicly claim her as his sister. Tongues would wag, of course, and many of the older ladies in Society might remember the countess’s exile to Devon twenty-one years ago and guess the reason for it, but with no one to confirm what really happened, that should not prevent Grace from taking her place in Society as Redding’s sister.”

Alaric inwardly questioned whether Grace would want that.

Quickly followed by the thought that it wasn’t his choice to make. That only Grace could know what she did or did not want to do with the rest of her life.

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

“A visitor has arrived asking to speak with you. I’ve put him in the formal parlor.” Mrs. Milner, the housekeeper at the vicarage, appeared slightly flustered. “He says he’s the Duke of Melborne,” she confided in a whisper.

“He is,” Grace confirmed heavily, having already seen and recognized the ducal seal on the black lacquered horse-drawn carriage when it came to a halt outside the vicarage a few minutes ago.

For a few brief moments, Grace had been elated at the thought of seeing Alaric again. Before she reminded herself of exactly why they had parted so acrimoniously four days earlier. Grace had convinced herself these past four days that she would never set eyes on Alaric again.

An acceptance, knowing she was deeply in love with him, which caused her heart to ache every time she thought of it. Which was often.

Luckily, the two gentleman who had traveled in the carriage with her for much of the journey to Devon had chosen to ignore, as men often did, her silent tears. The lady with two small children who had joined them inside the coach the following day had been far too busy with the antics of her children to concern herself with someone else’s woes.

She had no idea why Alaric was here, only two days after her own arrival, in the vicarage of Grace’s father and asking to see her. Although she could not believe it could be for pleasant reasons.

Certainly not that he returned the love she felt for him.

He had looked his normally aloof and arrogantly ducal self when Grace had watched from the family parlor a short time ago as he alighted from the carriage. Luckily, she had already stepped away from being seen at the window before Alaric had finished placing his hat upon his head and turned in the direction of the vicarage.

“Would you ask my father to join us?” If Grace had to speak to Alaric, and she knew him well enough to know that he would not leave until he had done so when he had stated that was his purpose for being here, then he could do so with her adopted father present. “I believe Papa is in his study writing the sermon for Sunday’s service.” Grace had been back in Barstock for just over a day, but already she had fallen into the day-to-day rhythms here.

The housekeeper shook her head. “The vicar has gone across to the church with the other visitor.”

Grace frowned. “What other visitor?”

“I didn’t catch his name, but it’s that same gentleman that came visiting Christmas before last.”

Grace stilled. “The Earl of Redding?”

“That’s the one.” Mrs. Milner gave a beaming smile.

Georgewas also here?

Grace had not seen the arrival of a second carriage, which must surely mean the two men had arrived in the ducal carriage?

Alaric and George had traveled to Devontogether?

What had Alaricdone?

The only way Grace could possibly know that was to ask him.

Even so, she paused to check her appearance in the hall mirror before entering the more formal parlor where the haughty Duke of Melborne was waiting to speak to her, no doubt impatiently.

Her reflection showed her cheeks were pale, and her eyes lacked their usual sparkle. She could do nothing about the sparkle, but she gave her cheeks a pinch to bring the color back into them. Her hair was unadorned and pulled neatly back and secured at her crown, as was her custom in Devon. The dark brown gown she wore was also one of the more staid styles she favored when living at the vicarage, being long-sleeved and buttoned up to her throat. It was slightly loose on her too, Grace having lost weight due to not having had an appetite since she left London. She also wore serviceable brown ankle boots, fit for the walking she often did about the parish.

A part of her wished she could go upstairs and change into something more fashionable and becoming, but another part of her said it shouldn’t matter what Alaric thought of her appearance. Not when common sense cautioned that she shouldn’tstillbe in love with the man who had merely used her as a pawn to elicit information about her brother.

Unfortunately, knowing that did absolutely nothing to lessen the love Grace knew she still felt for Alaric.

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