Chapter 1
An hour into their carriage ride, Grace's body was still reverberating with shock. Shock, betrayal and the smallest kernel of fear. All emotions that, at this point in her life, she'd thought herself to be far beyond. She'd truly believed that she'd already lost her faith in people, that nothing they could do would surprise her, and that she couldn’t be hurt again. It had taken her estranged husband less than an hour to show her differently.
It was fitting, perhaps, since he was the one who had taught her the meaning of betrayal in the first place. Not that he'd meant to. But she could still hear the words, ringing in her ears, like poison in her heart.
One woman is as good as another for a wife... and, thanks to you, Grace's dowry made her especially useful as mine.
If one woman was truly as good as another, then why wasn't her husband letting her go and contracting a marriage with a better one? A less embarrassing one? She looked outside the window, relieved that she couldn't see his straight-backed form on his horse. It would have been too tempting to throw something at his bloody stubborn head. One woman is as good as another... it was a chant that swam round her head, one that had tormented her for months when she'd first left Alex.
Well he'd certainly proved it, time and again, with one woman after another. A few months after she’d left him, she had just started feeling worthwhile again, enjoying the flirtations and words of men who thought she was beautiful, who thought she was desirable. Men who appreciated her for more than a business deal with her father. Then Alex had started his affairs, crushing what little had been left of her heart as he replaced her in his bed and divesting her of her last forlorn hope that perhaps she’d somehow misunderstood. Grace had faced down more than one of his lovers, who taunted her and flaunted his relations with them in her face. The women of the ton were catty and cruel, especially in the face of Grace's youth and beauty. They'd been gleeful that the young, stunning bride, a Diamond of the First Water, had been replaced in her husband's bed by them.
That's when Grace had finally succumbed to her first rake. At least there she'd chosen wisely. The young Marquess of Hartington had been nursing his own broken heart when he'd seduced her. There had been no expectation of a future for either of them, no painful emotions, just a joining between sympathetic souls and a great deal of pleasure. It was empty pleasure, nothing like the joyful passion she'd found in Alex's arms, but it had healed something inside of her. A belief in herself, the confidence of knowing she was desirable… and the broken edges of her heart hadn't felt quite so sharp after that.
That was the first lesson she'd learned from her lovers; that there was still pleasure to be found in the world. That lesson led to many others, and eventually she'd begun to hope perhaps she had a chance for love in her life after all. Just not with her husband. Grace wanted him to divorce her, and then she could make her way to America or the Continent to start anew. Some of the gossip would follow her, but maybe not all. Paris would probably be particularly welcoming of a young, scandalous beauty. Their nobility wasn’t nearly as stuffy as London’s, from what she heard, in Paris scandal made a woman more desirable.
"Bastard," she muttered under her breath as her husband, seated handsomely upon his horse, dropped back into view, riding just a bit ahead of her carriage. Her hand twitched and if there had been a small enough object within reach, she definitely would have thrown it.
Immediately Rose, her maid, looked up from the shirt she was stitching. Grace glared, filling her eyes with the hate and fury and frustration that were consuming her, and Rose dropped her gaze back down. At one time, Grace had considered Rose almost a friend, despite the difference in their stations. She had used Alex's money to pay the girl an outrageous wage, given her all sorts of privileges, and had even confided in her often. Now she knew that Rose was just another spy in her household.
Just like Peters.
Blinking away tears, Grace looked back out the window. That betrayal might hurt the worst. She'd always considered the butler to be her anchor, her haven. He guarded her home and kept the gossipmongers and dangerous roués away. But this morning he'd not only let Alex in, he'd instructed the household to pack her bags, and he'd been instrumental in getting her out the door and into Alex's carriage. He’d been apologizing the entire time as she'd wept and raged, but his true loyalty had been revealed; Peters belonged to the man with the stony face who'd watched the proceedings and then stepped forward to give her a single stinging slap on her rump. She'd felt the blow even through the layers of her skirts and she'd been aghast, as he ordered her to stop heaping abuse on Peters.
One woman is as good as another.
Why had he come back for her? Why did he want reconciliation instead of divorce? It couldn't be for the deal between him and her father anymore. Grace was quite sure that would continue no matter what; it had proved most profitable for both of them. Even if Alex divorced her, her father wouldn't back out of it; he'd basically disowned Grace when she'd left Alex's residence.
The day she’d left her husband, she’d made the mistake of trying to return to her father's house, and been rewarded with a split lip for her troubles. There had never been any love there, but she'd still somehow thought that her father might at least shelter her for a night while she decided what to do, where to go. Instead she'd spent the night in a hotel, eventually paid for by Alex, nursing both her broken heart and her wounded lip. The only thing that surprised her was that her father hadn't eventually come after her, demanding that she return to Alex and stop sullying her family's honor by her behavior.
Perhaps he'd felt that completely distancing himself from her was enough, since she and Alex were still technically married.
At least Alex continued to provide for her. She didn't know why, but she didn't particularly care either. Some form of guilt, perhaps, or maybe just to keep up appearances. It had kept her from having to contemplate less savory options for survival. Finances seemed to be the only thing he understood, the only thing that truly mattered to him. Since Grace was no longer of any use to him, she truly didn't understand why he didn't trade her out for a more willing wife.
******
Around midday, Alex called a halt for a meal. After riding all morning in the hot sun, hoping to give his wife some time to cool down after her rage this morning, he was feeling in dire need of sustenance. Perhaps it would also help give him the fortitude to get in the carriage and ride with Grace for the a