Page 24 of I’ve Grown Accustomed to My Scot

When loud applause startled him back to the theatre, he realized the play had come to an end and he wasn’t even sure what it had been about. Beside him, Grace heaved a happy sigh.

“That was wonderful,” she declared. “Thank you so much for bringing me tonight. The one Bolton brought me to was awful,” she added confidingly.

That information gave Rory more pleasure than it should have. But the real pleasure was in seeing her enjoyment and knowing he was responsible for it. That was something else he had never felt before. Did that mean he had been selfish up until now? If he had known the pleasures to be found in generously giving to others, he might have done it earlier. Or was it only with Grace that he felt like this?

What would his life be like when she was gone? Would he miss her? Would he miss the man he was beginning to be when he was with her?

Rory’s head was starting to ache.

They did not speak in the coach on the way home, and when they entered the countess’s house, all was quiet. His aunt had gone to bed, but she had left a servant sitting up to inform them that there was supper laid out in the drawing room.

Grace’s eyes widened with happiness. “Oh, that is so kind of her!” she said. “I feel as if I don’t want my evening to end. It has been the most fun I have had for ages.” And then, her smile fading, “But perhaps you have another engagement, Rory? I wouldn’t want to keep you if—”

Rory was surprised to realize that heading off on some tryst or other had never entered his head. “Not at all,” he said firmly.

That seemed to please her even more.

“Are you hungry?” He led the way into the drawing room. “I could eat a horse myself.”

It appeared that his aunt had ordered the supper with Rory’s appetite in mind. There were lots of elegant nibbles as well as a platter of cold meats, cheese, and fruit. And a bottle of champagne chilling in ice with two glasses sitting side by side, waiting to be filled. He did just that and raised his own in a toast.

“To Grace and her future!” he said boldly.

Color flooded her face, but she shot him a smile as she went to take a sip. And then another. The blush had extended down to her throat and over her chest, and Rory was once more struck by the thought that she needed some jewelry there. Emeralds, he had thought previously, but now he wondered if rubies would be a better fit. To his mind, they were warm and inviting, and so was Grace.

He set about loading two plates with food and put them down by the sofa. The fire was lit, making the room feel pleasantly warm and cozy. Grace sat down beside him and took another sip of the champagne, before reaching for the food.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “It was a relief to set aside my problems, even if it was only for a few hours.” She looked wistful. “My mother was very fond of the theatre. She said it helped her to forget. I’m sure life with Ormsby wasn’t easy for her.”

“Do you know who your father was?” he asked curiously.

She shook her head. “She never told me. I don’t think she wanted to remember. I think . . . Well, I think it was like Bolton and me, and he had run off and left her. And then Ormsby stepped in.”

Rory wondered if she was drawing comparisons between Ormsby and himself and hoped not. He felt a core of determination hardening inside him, to show Grace and the world that he was nothing like the earl.

He said gently, “You must miss her.”

She set down the food. “I do. Very much. I keep thinking . . .” She gave him a look from under her lashes, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to continue. He waited. “Before my mother died, she made me promise I would look after Harriet and Prudence. But now I’m not sure if I will be able to do that, not properly. I feel as if I have broken my promise to her.”

Rory took another sip of his champagne before he answered. What did she want from him? He could lie and say everything would work out perfectly, but he didn’t believe she would want that. “I think when you are settled into your new home, wherever and whatever that may be, you will know better how you can help them. You should not feel guilty for leaving Ormsby’s house. Your mother would never have wanted you to stay there when you had the chance to escape.”

He thought he had comforted her and that she would agree with him, but instead she blurted out, “Perhaps it would have been better if I had married Fitt.”

Rory stared at her in outrage. “Fitt! What on earth do ye mean by that?”

She eyed him uneasily. “I just mean that at least I would still be with them,” she explained. “I could watch over them.”

Rory snorted. “And what if Fitt fell out with Ormsby and decided to take another position? What if he refused to let you live in the house and forced you into some ugsome hut somewhere? You would belong to him, Grace, have you forgotten that? You would have no free will!”

She stared back at him, and it was only then that it occurred to him that despite his good intentions, when he had married Grace, she had become his property in exactly the same way she would have been Fitt’s. And according to Grace, they weren’t even properly married.

“I am not Fitt,” he growled. “Don’t even think it.”

She blinked and then she sighed. “Of course you’re not. You’re much better looking than him.”

“Oh, I am, am I?” he said, not quite ready to forgive her.

“You know you are.” She gave him that look from under her lashes, and then took another sip of her champagne, and he saw that she had drunk most of her glass.