Page 36 of How to Best a Marquess

“Hmm. He came to your aid last evening, didn’t he?”

“Just because he used his brute strength to toss out a foolish, drunken lord does not mean he has changed his ways.”

“Asinine lord.”

“Pardon?”

Grace waved a hand. “Baron Willoughby is asinine. I never liked him.”

“Well, that makes two of us then.” Ellie disliked Baron Willoughby immensely, and she wondered if Grace knew how the man treated his young wife. She dismissed the thought. Samantha Willoughby hid her bruises well, and she would never speak of her troubles to others.

Ellie was more convinced than before that she had to keep her plans to help Lady Willoughby secret. Grace was more accepting than Ellie’s brother, but if either learned of her association with Violet Lasher, all would be lost.

Ian would go berserk.

“How are your endeavors at the Raven Club?” Grace asked, changing the subject.

Ellie plumped the pillows behind Grace, grateful to have a task while her mind churned with how best to handle the topic of discussion. “My plans are coming along. I do believe Ian will have no choice but to find my efforts are most profitable.”

“Hmm. We will both have a say.”

Ellie handed Grace the cup of chocolate. “You’ll pick me, won’t you, Grace?” She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. She schooled her expression and tried to look as she must. Confident, competent, and determined to win.

Grace sipped the hot drink. “I must be fair.”

“Of course.” She felt a stab of disappointment. Ellie knew her plans for the club would work. They must. But deep down, she’d always hoped Grace would champion her.

Had she been wrong?

Rather than encourage her, Grace had suggested she give Hugh a second chance. Their encounter in the carriage returned in a flash. All during the night, she’d relived the heady sensation of his lips pressed against hers, tender and light as a summer breeze. And when their embrace had heated and he’d captured her lips with demanding mastery, she’d returned his kiss with reckless abandon. She had told him she wanted to kiss him, and she had no regrets at the time.

Her regrets came soon afterward, when he’d changed from a charming and seductive man to an arrogant and highhanded marquess. His demeanor had taken her off guard, and she’d felt pushed into a corner. He’d demanded that she tell him the next time a woman in danger came to her at the Raven Club.

Not bloody likely.

Grace continued to take small sips of her chocolate, watching Ellie over the rim of her cup. Ellie grew nervous, as if her sister-in-law could read her thoughts. She reached for the tray on the end table, intending to remove it, when she spotted a book. She picked it up and gave Grace a skeptical look. “Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet?”

“Ian is reading it to me.”

“Good heavens, why? It’s a tragedy.” Couldn’t her brother find something more uplifting to read to his expectant wife? Something with a happy ending?

Grace lowered her cup and sighed dreamily. “Two young lovers are very romantic.”

“But they both die!”

“So? They die in love.”

The pregnancy must be doing something to her mind. Ellie also thought the entire story foolish. Men were inherently selfish. What man would stab himself to death over the loss of a lover? She had loved Hugh, she’d thought he loved her as well, but then he crushed her hopes and dreams in one night and walked away from her without a backward glance.

Ellie set the book down. “I’m worried about you.”

Grace angled her head. “Don’t be. Women have been giving birth from the beginning of time.”

And many have died from it.

Ellie bit her tongue. “Still, the family physician insists you stay in bed. Why?”

For the first time, concern marred Grace’s brow. “It wasn’t the physician. Mrs. Henderson recommended bed rest.”