Claiming His Wife (13 page)

Other than after he'd spanked her, or
when she accidentally moved towards him in her sleep, Alex had
barely touched her at all.  Now she was letting him.  Had
agreed to it.  Had she been mad?

She kept her face tilted away from
him, unsure if she'd be able to hide the confusion and distress
that she felt over her pleasure at his nearness. 

"You look ravishing tonight," he said,
his voice low so that others passing by them wouldn't be able to
hear them over the music.  "Then again, you always look
stunning, but I do like this dress in particular.  Did you
wear it because you remembered how much I like you in
red?"

Pursing her lips, she shook her head,
but in her heart she suddenly wondered.  Had she dressed to
taunt him or to please him?  

"You think rather highly of yourself,
don't you?" she asked tartly.

"Why shouldn't I, when I have the most
beautiful woman in the room in my arms?"

Her heart skipped a beat,
and she wished he didn't sound so sincere.  It was hard to
maintain her anger when Alex was being charming.
 Complimentary.  Acting as though he cared.  It
brought up the most awful feelings of wistful hope inside of her,
made her think about Eleanor's theory that perhaps he truly did
value Grace for herself and he just hadn't known it till she was
gone.  But then Grace had to remind herself that it had
apparently taken him years to figure it out, and he was probably
motivated by something other than emotion.

After all, he'd proven himself to be
just like her father, valuing business and money over emotions and
caring. 

But it was hard to remember that in
moments like this, when he was holding her so closely and looking
at her like she was the only woman in the world.  Heat high in
her cheeks, she kept her face turned away, not knowing how to
respond to him.

Alex took her silence as a
positive sign.  If she were stone, holding firm against him,
then he would be water, slowly wearing down her resistance.
 He was certain he was wearing her down.  Just like
tonight, when he'd waited patiently by her side, hoping that
eventually she'd relent and dance with him.  Now she was.
 That had been his first major victory of the
evening.

Smaller victories included making her
shiver and blush, which she was doing right now.  She couldn't
completely contain her physical responses to him, and he was more
than willing to play on those.  

The more time he spent with her, the
easier it was to remember his former, more charming, happier self.
 Even if she was angry with him all the time, at least she was
there.  And she was softening.  The fact that he held her
in her arms and made her blush was proof of that.  She didn't
protest about sleeping in the same bed anymore either.

When the dance was done, Alex took her
back to the side of the ballroom.  Edwin and Eleanor had
vacated the space, but Hugh and Irene had taken their
place.

"Edwin took Nell home, she wasn't
feeling too well," Hugh said.  He didn't appear concerned,
however, so Alex knew it wasn't anything dire.  Smiling down
at Grace, Hugh patted Irene's hand and then released her to hold
his hand out to Grace.  "Lady Brooke, would you like to
dance?"

"Yes, please," she said, with every
evidence of relief, shooting Alex a triumphant look before turning
away to take Hugh's hand.  

Alex hid his smile.  Even that
was a victory, because she'd cared enough to make a point to him.
 It didn't matter what the point was.  He turned to
Irene.  "Well, pet, would you like to dance?"

"Absolutely," Irene said,
smiling up at him enthusiastically.  They hadn't quite managed
to return to their old camaraderie yet, Alex still felt a bit
strange about touching her after that scene in the garden, but they
were on their way.  Fortunately, the current song was a
quadrille, which didn't require the same kind of intimacy that a
waltz did.  

While he was dancing with
Irene, he couldn't help but watch Grace.  She was aptly named,
her every movement was long and elegant, like a siren’s call to his
senses.  

Unfortunately, Hugh's
dance with her seemed to be some kind of signal to the other men in
attendance.  No sooner had the dance ended and they'd returned
to the sidelines, than a young lord stepped up to ask Grace to
dance.  Of course, at events such as this, that was completely
normal.  Alex's behavior tonight, keeping the men from even
asking her for a dance, had been decidedly unusual amongst
the
ton
.  In
London, it would have been more than frowned upon, he probably
would have found himself overrun by outraged matrons.
 

After all, most of the time, husbands
didn't hover over their wives at balls, so if the women wanted to
dance, it wasn't going to be with their spouse. 

Although, Alex had only meant to keep
Grace off the dance floor until she acquiesced to dance with him,
it was still hard to see her take the floor, laughing and smiling
with another man.  With an internal sigh, he turned and asked
one of the young matrons at the edge of the floor to join him.
 If Grace was going to dance, he was going to
dance.

He'd learned his lesson about hurting
his own cause though.  The moment the dance ended, he returned
the flirtatious matron to her place and took his own beside Grace.
 The musicians were resting for the moment, and the young buck
she'd been dancing with had taken it upon himself to retain her
hand as they chatted.  Alex had absolutely no compunction
about pushing his way between them and taking Grace's hand back for
his own.

"Lord Brooke," the younger man said,
immediately letting Grace go.  He might be a rake-in-training,
but he knew when he was outclassed.  

Alex eyed him without malice.
 "My apologies, I don't believe we've been
introduced."

"Marbury," he said, with a
grin. 

"Ah, the name I've heard," Alex said,
raising his eyebrow.  Marbury was a bit more than a
rake-in-training, but he was also known for not poaching protected
preserves.  As long as Alex made it clear he wasn't going to
stand for any dalliances with his wife, he would have nothing to
fear from Marbury.  "Your grays are superb."

Other than his exploits in the
bedroom, Marbury was also known for being a notable whip.
 Alex had seen his team, a matching set of feisty grays, on
the street, although he'd never gotten a good look at the man
driving them.  

"Matchless," Marbury said with an
almost boyish grin.  "But they should be considering the
cost."

Beside them, Grace made an indelicate
snorting sound.  "Men and their horses."

"Ladies and their
ribbons," Alex said teasingly back to her, his heart lightening.
 It was an old retort, teasing words exchanged more than once
back when he'd started courting her.  Grace had asked him to
go shopping with her and he'd made some kind of pompous remark
about ladies always needing new ribbons; she'd tossed her head and
haughtily informed him that she was going to New Market to choose a
new horse, but if he wanted ribbons she would send him out with her
mother so he would at least be educated in choosing the
best.

That was the day Alex had decided he
was going to marry her.

A gentleman Grace had met earlier that
evening, Mr. Lowell, interrupted just then, asking Grace to dance.
 Somewhat in a daze, she accepted, looking over her shoulder
at Alex as Mr. Lowell led her away.  Alex's eyes were trained
on her, watching her walk away.

She hadn't expected him to remember
that old repartee.  It had fallen from her lips before she'd
thought about it, sparked by the conversation, and she'd thought it
a mistake even before she'd finished saying the words.  But
then Alex had responded.  He'd remembered.  

That had surprised her even more than
his appearance by her side at the end of the dance.  She'd
thoroughly expected him to remain with the blonde beauty he'd ended
up dancing with.  After all, he'd been hanging on Grace all
night and he'd finally gotten what he'd wanted.  When she'd
first seen him take to the floor, her heart had dropped somewhere
around the vicinity of her feet.  She thought that by
accepting Marbury's invitation, that her action had spurred Alex to
seek out another companion.

Even though she'd tried to tell
herself she was glad that he'd gotten the message, it had still
hurt.  

Then he'd reappeared at
her side, the blonde nowhere in sight, as aggressively possessive
as he had been earlier in the evening.  Even though she tried
to remain aloof, how could such attention
not
 turn her head, just a
little?  Then, to know that he'd remembered such a simple
little thing from before... a tiny joke between them that she'd
have bet he would have forgotten.  Such little interactions
had meant something to her, but what could they have meant to
him?

Yet he'd remembered.

For the rest of the night, Grace was
utterly taken aback.  Alex danced with woman after woman, just
as she did with the men who came to ask her, but he always returned
to her side after each set.  Without the lady in question on
his arm.  And he never danced with a single one
twice.

Except for Grace.  He claimed
every single waltz with her, apparently content to dance with her
held close, even though they didn't exchange a word between them.
 She truly didn't know what to say.

Chapter 6

"But what do I do?" Grace whispered
into Eleanor's ear.

They were doing their best
not to catch the Countess' eye while she went into raptures,
showing them the ballroom as it was being decorated for the
wedding.  The event was two days away and Cynthia looked like
she was reaching the end of her patience, but Grace was too wrapped
up in her own issues to help with that.  Besides, the Countess
had her arm firmly wrapped around Cynthia's.  It would be like
trying to detach a leech.  A well-meaning, motherly, and
completely wedding-crazed leech.

"You could always try giving him
another chance, he might surprise you," Eleanor whispered back,
glancing over to make sure that they weren't being watched.
 They were, but only by Cynthia, who was gazing at them
beseechingly as the Countess directed one of the footmen to raise
the valances another foot.  They both looked back at her with
sympathy and shook their heads.

She stuck out her tongue at them and
Eleanor giggled.  Even Grace smiled, although she was
currently feeling far too rattled to truly feel any humor.
 Eleanor kept pushing her to give her marriage another chance,
to take Alex at face value - again.  The worst part was, Grace
could feel herself weakening and wanting to do exactly
that. 

But if Eleanor was wrong, and Alex was
only using her again, Grace didn't know if her heart could take it.
  

Irene looked over at them curiously.
 She'd been following the Countess through the ballroom much
closer than Grace or Eleanor had.  Probably conditioned to
follow closely by that harpy mother of hers, poor thing.
 Lately Grace had been tempted to talk to Irene, wondering if
she might have any insights into Alex's behavior.  After all,
she had known him the longest.  But, even though there was
some obvious cooling of untoward affection between them, she was
sure that Irene's loyalty remained to Alex.  She didn't know
if she could trust Irene to keep her confidence.  

The doors on the far side of the room
opened, and the Earl peered in, looking around.  His mother
saw him immediately and started half-dragging Cynthia across the
room, stopping mid-tirade as she barreled towards her son, her
voice rising as she neared him.

"Wesley!  There you are!
 What do you have to say for yourself, sirrah?  I cannot
believe your behavior last night!"

"Oh dear," Eleanor murmured under her
breath, holding her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggle as
Wesley's friends abandoned ship and left him to the tender mercies
of the Countess.  

Apparently, Wesley had
taken Cynthia out to the gardens at the dance last night and had
rendered her into such a state of disarray that they'd had to make
a hasty trip home.  The Countess was infuriated, although she
hadn't shown it before, as she put the blame solely on her son's
broad shoulders.  Cynthia appeared fascinated by the diatribe,
while everyone else displayed varying degrees of amusement.
 Grace coughed to cover her own laughter, and she couldn't
help catching Alex's gaze.  For one delightful, pure moment,
they looked at each other, laughter filling their eyes.  He
was heart-stoppingly beautiful when he smiled.

Then the moment was over,
and Grace pulled her gaze away.  She couldn't drop her guard
too much.  Not yet.  

If only she could find a way to test
him, to discover what his motivations were.  Perhaps she
should search the study of their current residence, see if he had
any of his business papers.  They might hold a clue.  Or
his correspondence.  Something to tell her why he might need a
wife by his side, or her as his wife in particular.
 

In the meantime... perhaps
there were other ways of ascertaining just how serious he was.
 Her scandalous reputation didn't appear to currently bother
him, but what if she was seen as being even more so?  After
all, he was intent on reining her in, and everyone now knew it, and
if she refused to let him, perhaps he'd find her too embarrassing
to hold on to.  Especially if his reasons had to do with
business.  She had thought she'd already broken the line of
what a man would be willing to tolerate before divorce, but perhaps
she hadn't gone quite far enough.