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Authors: Ella Quinn

Three Weeks to Wed (22 page)

BOOK: Three Weeks to Wed
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“We're renovating the school-room, and redecorating some of the other rooms at Worthington House. We can't live there while all that is going on. I thought it would be better if our brothers and sisters resided here until the other house can accommodate them.”
Wrinkling her brow in thought, Bolton nodded. “I understand you not wanting to live across the street with all the racket, but you and his lordship could sleep there.”
He bestowed his best smile on her. What a wonderful woman his affianced wife had for a maid. “Bolton, that's a wonderful idea.”
Frowning, Grace glanced at her maid. “But what if one of the children falls ill or has nightmares?”
“My lady, you could be fetched immediately if you're needed.”
Worthington sent up a silent prayer to stay on Bolton's good side.
Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Grace finally said, “Yes, I suppose it could work.”
He'd been sitting on the edge of the bed and went to her. “If it does not, my love, we'll find a way to stay here.”
Grace's eyes were soft as she gazed at him. “Very well. We shall try it.”
Bolton disappeared back into the dressing room, and he took Grace in his arms. “We
will
make it work. Even if I have to have a bell-pull installed at the door so that Thorton can be awakened in the middle of the night.”
Her eyes danced with merriment. “Poor Thorton.”
Matt's stomach growled. “We must have our breakfast if we're not to be late for the meeting with Mr. Rollins.”
They'd almost finished eating when Patience and Louisa entered the breakfast room.
His stepmother looked as if she was expecting bad news. “Well, how were they?”
“They were fine,” Grace said reassuringly. “Everyone settled in, and we had no trouble at all. Not even any bad dreams. The children should be down soon. Louisa, why don't you go up and see what's keeping Charlotte?”
After Louisa left, Patience let out a sigh of relief. “I cannot express how pleased I am. The only thing concerning me about the wedding was the children. But it seems they have taken it upon themselves to behave.”
Grace glanced at her with raised brows. “It has all been remarkably trouble-free. Almost too easy.”
He covered her hand with his. “Let's not go looking for trouble.”
“No, you're absolutely correct.” She poured Patience a cup of tea. “I'll enjoy it while it lasts.”
The sound of stampeding elephants echoed from the stairs. And he'd thought his sisters were loud. “I believe they'll be here shortly.”
He wondered what Grace had done to keep the ceilings from seeming as if they were falling in.
“My lord,” Royston said from the door. “A message has come that Mr. Rollins has arrived at Worthington House.”
“Thank you, Royston. I'll go immediately.”
Matt rose, kissed Grace on her cheek, and braced himself for the comments that usually accompanied his displays of his affection for her, but no one said a word, though Philip shuddered and Madeline sighed. “You finish eating, my love. I'll take him up. Do you want me to take the plans for this house with me?”
“No, it's not necessary. Tell him I want essentially the same design. I have made some other notes as well.” She pulled several sheets of paper from her pocket. “Here, take these. I'll be over shortly.”
Matt took her scribblings and left. It might behoove him to look at all the changes Grace was proposing to his house.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Grace, what are you and Matt doing?” Augusta asked.
“We are remodeling Worthington House so that the school-room floor will be almost the same as the one here.”
Alice and Eleanor glanced at each other. “But we all decided to live here.”
Looking around the table, all eyes were on her. “We shall for this Season. The next time we come to Town, we'll live at Worthington House. By the time everything is ready, I promise you will like it.”
Patience pulled a face. “I'm afraid it will take a great deal to accomplish.”
It certainly would. Yet Grace wouldn't blame Patience, who'd never been encouraged to do anything with the house. “I agree.” The children still appeared skeptical. “How would you like to have a hand in decorating your chambers?”
“Can my room be pink?” Mary asked.
“It can be any color you wish, sweetie.”
Her announcement was the impetus for a great deal of talk among the girls.
Patience grinned and said, “Grace, if you want to join Worthington and the architect, I shall watch the children.”
She looked at her empty plate and debated eating another helping. For some reason, she'd been so hungry lately. “I'll leave in a few minutes. I want Matt to meet with the architect alone first. It is his house after all, and he must be comfortable with Rollins.”
“Grace?” Louisa asked. “How is this all going to work?”
Patience glanced up. “I'd be interested to know that as well.”
“Some of the younger girls will have to share their bedchambers. Louisa will take the chamber next to Charlotte's, and Matt and I will sleep across the street. Patience, you may live or sleep where you choose. Although I must warn you, there will be a great deal of noise and dust during the day at Worthington House.”
Jane, who had joined them a few moments before, turned to Patience. “When we visited in early November, there was so such a din, one could not hear oneself think. Not to mention the dirt and workmen trailing in and out of the house.”
Patience played with the fringe of her shawl. “Do you have a place for me?”
Although Grace always knew her soon-to-be stepmother-in-law would be affected by the marriage and changes to the family, she hadn't appreciated how displaced the other woman might feel. “We have a very nice apartment that I think would suit you. Jane, would you please show Lady Worthington the Yellow Chambers when you've finished?”
“I'd be happy to.”
Grace took her last sip of tea and rose. “I shall see you later.”
A few minutes later, Thorton opened the door and bowed to her. “They are in the school-room, my lady.”
“Thank you, Thorton. Please tell Mrs. Thorton I'd like to have the list of fabrics we shall need, if it's ready.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As Grace entered the main room where she found Matt and Mr. Rollins in close conversation. “Mr. Rollins, how nice to see you again.”
Both men rose. Rollins bowed. “My lady. Thank you for thinking of me.”
She sat at a low chair next to the table with the plans. “Will you be able to do something similar here to what you did at Stanwood House?”
“Yes, indeed. I've just been going over the plans with his lordship. May I also wish you very happy?”
Despite having been congratulated, told it was a good match, and happy wishes before a contented, joyful feeling filled her. As if she was able to believe it for the first time. “Thank you. I believe we shall be.” She met Matt's eyes. There was so much love in them her heart beat faster. Perhaps her aunt had been wrong. Maybe this could work after all.
“My love?” Matt asked.
“I'm sorry.” She took out her pocketbook as if she'd been attending to their conversation. “Were you saying something?”
His eyes danced with mirth. “I was saying that, after we've finished this floor, I'd like Mr. Rollins to make some other renovations. Such as a proper bathing chamber for us.”
“What a lovely idea. I would like that immensely.”
Rollins's lips twitched. “My lord, my lady, I'd like to stay here and take measurements. I'll have a complete diagram for you after the holiday.”
Matt shook his hand. “Thank you, Rollins. I look forward to receiving them. My lady, shall we go?”
She took the hand he offered and rose. “Before I forget, I must visit the fabric warehouse to-day. Would you like to come with me?”
“I'd like nothing more,” he said, as if they were going on a picnic and it would be a great lark.
Narrowing her eyes, Grace asked, “Have you ever visited a fabric warehouse?”
“No.” He smiled broadly. “Though I anticipate an enlivening time.”
He would be the first gentleman she'd heard about who thought so. “We shall see. Since you'll be with me, I'd also like to go to one of the furniture warehouses. Unless you like the Egyptian motif?”
His brows snapped together. “Are you telling me we have that horrible stuff here? Where is it?”
“In two of the major reception rooms.” She closed her eyes for a moment. How could he . . . ? “Worthington, you followed Mrs. Thorton and me around them. How did you not notice?”
His eyes slowly pursued her from her head down over her breasts to her toes. “I was focused on something else.”
Grace's cheeks grew warm, and her pulse beat faster. Drat him for always having this effect on her. “I see.” Tamping down her desire, she quickly changed the subject. “Once the renovations are completed, and we are here for the Little Season, we shall need additional footmen and maids.”
His gaze was still on her. “I'll let Thorton know.”
“I thought we could keep on the ones I hired for the Season.” She tried to ignore Matt as his eyes sparkled wickedly, and her body responded. Maybe if she kept talking . . . “Matt, did I tell you that Charlie will be home to-morrow? I plan to allow the children a holiday while he's here. I shall tell Miss Tallerton and Mr. Winters they may either stay and enjoy London or return home for the week.” Despite her attempt to ignore him, her gaze dropped to his lips. Really, he was being impossible. They would never accomplish all their tasks if he had his way. “We must go if we are to meet my uncle after luncheon.”
He opened a door and before she knew where they were, he'd dragged her into his arms, and his lips urged hers to open. Fire rose as he caressed her, exploring her mouth. Throbbing started between her legs. “Matt, my love . . .”
“I've barely been able to think of anything but you since I awoke this morning. I need you so much, Grace.”
How could any female not respond to that? “We cannot take long.”
Glancing around the room, he waltzed her around until her back hit the wall.
He lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me, and hold on.”
“Matt, don't crush my skirt. Bolton complained the last time.”
“I won't.” His ragged breath tickled her ear, adding to the sensations of his one hand. “I need to remain on Bolton's good side.”
He rubbed that place that made her crave him and placed two fingers in her, stroking her. Sparks leapt deep within her and her breath was every bit as ragged as his.
“Please, now.” She tried to stifle her cry of pleasure as he plunged into her. Sparks ignited into flames and the sun burst over her as her legs trembled, and she called his name.
He kept her from falling and thrust twice more. “Oh, Grace, my only love.”
The warmth of his seed spread within her, and she missed him as he withdrew from her. If this loving could only continue, she'd be the happiest woman in England and Europe.
He slowly lowered her feet to the floor, while holding her so tightly, his chest pounded against hers.
He kissed her slowly and thoroughly as his hands stroked her back. “Are you sure you want to go shopping?”
The man was wicked. Gazing up at him, she lifted her hand to his cheek, returning his kisses more deeply, before murmuring, “I am
not
going to live with the Egyptian motif.”
He groaned and lifted his head. “I suppose you're right.”
Matt had called for his curricle to be readied, but when they walked out, a small town coach stood waiting. He glanced at his coachman and frowned. “What happened to the carriage?”
His coachman cast a gimlet eye at the sky and sniffed. “It's comin' on rain, my lord. You wouldn't want her ladyship to get wet.”
A footman let down the stairs. Matt handed her into the coach and climbed in closing the door.
Grace tilted her head to gaze up at the sky through the window. “It doesn't look like rain.”
He settled next to her. “If Tim Coachman says it's going to rain, it will. I've never known him to be wrong.”
Matt was so large that he took up most of the seat. Giving up the battle to keep her distance, she settled against his shoulder. “It's no matter. I shall be able to bring back more packages in this.”
Dislodging her, he frowned. “How much is this going to cost me?”
If she had known he was going to be such a problem, she would never have asked him to join her. Then again, they must learn to work together. She could not be expected to have his approval each time she purchased something for their home. “I have no idea.” Grace patted his knee. “If you are short of funds, I shall make you a loan. Nevertheless, I will expect you to repay me on quarter day.”
“Minx.”
* * *
Jane stole surreptitious glances out the window of the pretty first-floor apartment she was showing Lady Worthington. Goodness, it was almost time for Hector to arrive. Nevertheless, when Patience had asked, Jane couldn't very well have refused to show Patience the rest of the house. A smart curricle pulled up in front of the house. “Patience, do you mind if I leave you? I have some other things I must attend to.”
“Not at all, my dear. Please do not let me keep you from your duties.”
Jane darted to her bedchamber, opening the door so quickly it bounced off the wall. “My straw bonnet with the green ribbons.”
Her maid, Dorcus, rushed into and out of the dressing room, holding the hat. “What's got you in such a thither?”
“Mr. Addison is here. We are going for a carriage ride.” That Jane was going to look at houses with Hector, she kept close to her chest. They had come so close to marrying the last time he courted her, she did not want to raise anyone's hopes. Especially hers. Although, that might be a lost cause.
Her maid placed the hat on Jane's head. “Don't let him get away this time.”
She didn't
exactly
let him get away the last time. If only they had both had more gumption, when her father refused his suit and his father sent him to work for an uncle in India. Now, she had no one to please but herself. “We shall see.”
Just as she reached the hall, the door opened. Before he could even ask for her, she sailed forward, took his arm, and led him down the steps.
“Is there a reason you do not want me in the house?” His tone was slightly aggrieved as he helped her into the carriage.
“It is nothing at all like that.” Jane settled her skirts. “Until we . . .” How was she to explain this? “Do you have any idea what it is like living in a house with ten curious children?”
He gave the horses their office. “I can't say that I do, but trying to imagine it gives me a fright.”
She slid a sidelong glance at him. The corner of his lips quivered as if he were ready to burst into laughter at any moment. “As it should. It is a wonder anyone can have a private thought.”
“You care for them a great deal.”
The tension of rushing out of the house before anyone saw her began to drain. “I do. I feel as if they are my own nieces and nephews.”
He steered the curricle in a northerly direction, turning right around the square and onto Bruton Place. The carriage stopped before an elegant three-story white stone town house on the corner of Bruton and Barlow Place. Two bow windows flanked the front door.
“Here we are.”
Poor Hector, he had been gone so long he probably didn't realize how dear the house would come. “It is lovely.”
“That was my exact thought when I rode by it yesterday. You must be honest with me as to whether or not you like it.”
How could she not? Still, it would hurt his pride if she adored the residence and he could not afford it. Mayhap the better idea would be to find fault. Jane held her tongue as they entered the hall, which was tiled pink marble; the columns and the wide, curved staircase were of the same material. Before she could stop herself, she'd exclaimed, “How beautiful!”
With his hands behind his back, Hector looked like the cat who'd eaten the canary. “I thought you might like it. When the fellow described it to me, I thought it would bring out your complexion.”
“Bring out my . . .” Whatever was he thinking?
“Yes, it reminds me of the inside of a large shell I once saw.” He twined his arm in hers. “Let's look at the rest of it.”
Try as she might, from the well-appointed rooms, to the modernized kitchen, Jane could not find a thing wrong. It even had a huge ballroom. He led her out the French windows to the walled garden. As they snoodled along a path, she fell in love with the property. Yet he was making a mistake, and she must say something. “What would you do with such a large house?”
“Live in it.”
“But, Hector . . .”
He led her to a stone bench. Once she was seated, he sank to one knee. “I should probably wait longer, but I feel as if I—we have lost so much time already. Jane Carpenter, would you do me the great honor of being my wife.”
BOOK: Three Weeks to Wed
2.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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