Page 17 of A Rogue to Cherish

Henry, who’d already had his fill of laughter, shook his head. “If she is a virgin, she will be petrified on her wedding night after seeing your ugly bits.”

“I think her expectations will be dashed upon seeing someone who is not me,” Grant rebutted. Then he sobered. “In actuality, I do feel bad for the lass. I should have looked about before entering so abruptly.”

“At the ball tonight,” Miles began, referring to the way he’d proceed later today. “I will begin my plan to seduce and conquer.” He lifted the glass of amber liquid and Grant caught a whiff of the strong alcohol. Instead of making him want a drink, it made him slightly nauseous.

He sipped his water. His head was still heavy from the night before and apparently, his stomach still roiled.

“I will be there,” he replied. “Which means I must go home and rest up.” He shrugged. “As for me, I do not have to do much more than ensure just enough attention to my benefactresses.”

Miles’s lips curved. “Benefactresses, is that what you call them?”

Usually, such jibes didn’t affect him, but for some reason his lordship’s comment annoyed him this day. Instead of a verbal reply, he shrugged casually, despite the clenching of his gut.

Even as Grant made his way outside, his stomach felt hollow, as if hungry. He flattened his hand over the flat span. It could be that he missed the meal the night before and it was time to eat. He’d ask Norman for something to fill his belly once he arrived home. His mood turned as gloomy as the sky above.

*

Once in hisbedroom, Grant paced. Sleep had evaded him and instead, the unusual hollowness in his stomach had prodded him to get out of bed and do something. Even eating hadn’t made the feeling go away.

Annoyed, he pushed open the window and the room lightened. The view outside the front of the grand home was nice, a treelined road leading up to it. Over the treetops, he could see the city. He imagined every street bustling with activity, people going here and there, horses and carriages competing for space on the roads, and the shops’ bells over each door ringing as customers entered and left.

There were so many people about, and yet loneliness filled him. It was not the first time; since leaving home, Grant had often been lonely. Adrift, without a set direction or a firm foothold on what it was that he wanted more than anything in life. Other than riches, and those didn’t appeal to him as greatly as they once had. Instead, it was something else, something which couldn’t be purchased for any price.

A man on horseback appeared and rode to the front of the house. It was a messenger. Grant set his jaw. Hopefully, it would not be Lucinda sending a summons.

At the thought, Wren came to mind. The only way to see her was to go visit Lucinda. However, he did not wish to continue the assignation with the woman. Especially not if it meant continuing to participate in the sexual events for which she had such a penchant. His friends would probably be hard-pressed to believe that, more than anything, he wished for a simple relationship with someone who he could talk to, and spend hours with, doing absolutely nothing. Indeed, it was hard for him to believe, himself.

Still, such a thing was impossible, of course, considering he had very little money of his own. So while he didn’t long for wealth as he once did, the fact remained that without it, he wouldn’t be able to support himself. Or anyone else.

Absently, he looked to the table next to the bed where a book was splayed open, to what page he couldn’t remember. It was a copy of a story he’d written and sent to a publisher in hopes that it would be well-received. It was a story of a man’s quest to find the truth behind a stolen treasure and how he had come to realize that it never existed to begin with. Sliding his fingers over the crisp paper, he wondered if anyone had seen it as yet.

It had taken three years, but finally, the story of his heart had been written. Once he’d completed it, he’d been unable to write anything else.

“Sir.” Norman stood at the open door. “A note from your mother.”

Grant reached to grab the small envelope from the butler and ripped it open so he could read the neatly written words, relaxing at the content. His mother wished for him to visit, claiming he’d neglected her as of late. It was true. He’d not visited in quite a few weeks, and if he were honest, he too missed seeing his mother. His father as well, although his patriarch and he were not on speaking terms. No more than a greeting had passed between them in a pair of years.

“Tell the messenger his services are no longer required. I will go visit Mother as soon as I am dressed.” After the butler nodded and left, Grant washed his face and freshened his clothes before heading downstairs and out the door.

Not quite an hour later, a young lad he didn’t recognize took his horse as he arrived past the gates of his family home. The house was in the center of a long street where prominent, but not elite, families lived.

The people who lived there were those who worked for the wealthy and were well-compensated for it in turn. Judges, lawyers, and actuaries provided well for their families. His own father was an actuary, a trusted financial advisor for several titled men, who paid him quite well. Because of it, both Grant and his sister Felicity had never wanted for anything.

The door opened and the familiar, craggy face of Gerard, the butler, warmed when he spotted Grant. “You are finally here,” he said with a mock-stern expression. “Your mother is in the sitting room.”

At the doorway, he hesitated as memories of many evenings in the room flooded Grant’s mind. He and his sister had taken lessons in this very room. He’d spent many an hour sprawled in a chair reading or working on whatever their tutor had assigned.

Now his mother sat with a book in one hand and tea beside her on the nearby table. She looked the picture of a lady, her gray-streaked brown hair pulled up into an elegant style, a string of pearls around her neck. When she looked up, she dropped the book and lifted her hands. “Grant! I am so glad to see you.”

Upon reaching her, Grant took her hands and leaned over, kissing both her cheeks in turn. “Mother. You look lovely.”

“You look a bit thin. You should eat more.”

“I have neglected to eat since Felicity has not been home to remind me,” he replied.

Before he could utter another word, his mother got out of her chair and went to the door to call out for Gerard to bring a meal to the dining room. She turned and gave him a triumphant look. “We just finished tea not that long ago. Your father left for an errand and should be back shortly.”

He lowered himself into the closest chair. “What have you been doing?”