Page 13 of How to Tempt an Earl

“Good. We have an agreement,” he said.

Chapter Four

The following evening, Grace’s heart pounded as she opened her bedroom door and looked both ways to make sure the hall was vacant. She tiptoed down the stairs just as the long case clock in the grand entry chimed midnight.

She snuck into the kitchen and cracked open the servants’ door leading into the back gardens. A half-moon faintly illuminated the hedges and bushes, and they appeared like eerie specters.

Doubt crept along her spine. It wasn’t the first time she’d secretly left the house. She’d been maintaining the ledgers of the milliner for six months’ time, and when her maid, Rose, couldn’t deliver or collect the ledgers, Grace would have to do it herself.

But tonight was different. Other than her two visits to the Raven Club, she’d never departed this late, and certainly never to go to a bachelor’s home.

Could she do this? Could she tutor such a dangerous and dominant male like Ian Swift?

Did she have a choice?

Six thousand pounds.

She took a breath, filling her lungs with air and courage. Her future was not as she’d predicted. She’d wanted to marry for love, have children, and live in a lovely Mayfair home with plenty of laughter.

Just like her childhood.

Grace pushed the dream aside. Regrets were childish and foolish.

She took another deep breath, stepped into the night, and quietly closed the door behind her. She clutched her cloak tightly and made her way to the mews. It had rained earlier in the evening, and the impressions between the cobblestones were filled with puddles. Lifting her skirts, she moved quickly until the shape of a dark coach and matching pair of bays came into view. She would have been hard pressed to see the conveyance if she didn’t know to look for it.

As she approached the carriage, the driver hopped down from his seat. “Miss,” he said, opening the door and lowering the step.

Fearful that she would lose her nerve, she quickly stepped inside and sat on the bench. The driver shut the door.

She leaned against the luxuriously padded leather squabs. She’d made it this far. She had the remaining journey to gather her courage and—

“Good evening.”

She let out a shriek and whirled. Dressed entirely in black, Ian Swift sat in the corner of the carriage, his long legs stretched before him. A shaft of moonlight from the window illuminated his hessians.

She pressed a hand to her chest. “My goodness! You could have made your presence known.”

He flashed a mischievous grin. “I didn’t hide. I thought it best not to light a carriage lamp just in case someone was looking out the window. I had your reputation in mind.”

Her gaze narrowed. She didn’t think he had anyone’s interest in mind other than his own. “I didn’t believe you would come with the carriage.”

“What better way to ensure your safety?”

She wanted to point out that she’d be far safer were she not ensconced with him in a conveyance. Everything about him was large, and she was all too aware of the breadth of his shoulders, his distinctive shaving soap, and his long legs. The interior of the spacious carriage suddenly seemed very small.

“Did anyone see you leave?” he asked.

“No. My younger brother is asleep. So is his nursemaid. Father left an hour after dinner. I suspect he’s at the Raven Club as we speak.”

“Not tonight. I gave orders to my man, Brooks. If the baron appears tonight, his favorite faro table will be closed. That way he won’t think he is being denied entrance.”

Her voice rose in surprise. “Truly?”

“Gamblers take it as a sign of bad luck if their table is closed.”

“I’m surprised you instructed your man to—”

“Aiding your father was also part of our arrangement, remember?”