What a very odd letter. And why the devil was Danby visiting Hambleton? Were the two of them friendly? And why mention it to Oliver at all? He hadn’t seen his future father-in-law or his intended for more than three years. There was no reason for Danby to pass along his greetings to either the earl or his daughter. And why mention the earl’s pious nature? Honestly, every dealing he had with Danby was odd in one way or the other.
Oliver’s opinion of the Duke of Danby had not changed one bit since Christmas. He was an odd fellow, the duke. But he was a powerful one as well. And… well Danbyhadoffered his assistance, hadn’t he? Oliver might be stuck in Westmorland until Ginny delivered her child and was well enough for travel, but perhaps Danby could locate Douglas Waring in the meantime. It was, after all, worth a shot.
Grace closedher eyes as her fingers trailed along the keys of her pianoforte. Vivaldi had always spirited her away to another time and another place. The music was so cheerful, so happy. Oliver always said—
Blast it, she hit a sharp. Why in the world was she thinking about Oliver? She usually turned to the piano tokeepfromthinking about him. She didn’t need him invading her thoughts while she was playing, not now, not while he wasn’t even in London. Keeping her thoughts in order was imperative to her future. So she shook her head, willed Oliver from her mind and refocused on the keys before her. Sheshouldfocus on what she’d learned about Mr. Lacy. That’s what she should do. Stay on point. Develop a plan of some sort.
Daniel Lacy was the heir presumptive to the Downe earldom, as his uncle currently held the title but had only sired daughters. It was possible, she supposed, that the current Earl of Downe could still sire a son, but the fellowwasin his sixties. The odds weren’t terribly high that he would do so. And that meant Mr. Lacy had a very good chance at assuming the title from his uncle at some point.
Every future earl would be in want of a wife eventually, wouldn’t they? Oliver certainly was, or rather his father had known that his son would someday need a countess. But why had the late Earl of Prestwood decidedLady Eloisewould make the best candidate for the position? Why had he searched so far away when Grace had been right under his nose all of her life? She came from a perfectly respectable family and was the daughter of a marquess for heaven’s sake. There was no reason to align the Prestwood house with the Hambleton one, not when the Brandenham marquessate was next door, so to speak.
Blast it all. She hit a wrong note again, which she never did. She was simply so distracted by the whole thing, not that any of it mattered. It didn’t matterwhythe late-Earl of Prestwood had selected Lady Eloise for his son. He had done so. That was the reality of the situation. And wondering why wouldn’t do anyone any good at all, least of all Grace. And…why…whywas she thinking about Oliver again anyway? Hadn’t she decided to put him from her mind?
Grace pushed off the piano bench and touched a hand to her temple as a headache threatened to take her.
Mr. Lacy. She needed to focus on Mr. Lacy. He was a perfectly nice heir presumptive to a perfectly nice earldom, at least she assumed the earldom was perfectly nice. And Mr. Lacy had more sense than any other fellow she’d spoken to all season. Yes, yes, yes, focusing on Mr. Lacy was a better use of her time than lamenting over what could have been with Oliver Ashbee.
And shehaddone a bit of research the previous evening in that regard. Mr. Lacy was from Kent. She’d seen that in Mama’s Debrett’s. Grace had never been to Kent, however. She had no idea what to expect if she traveled there. Did Mr. Lacy live in Kent all year long except during the season? Or was he one of those fellows who lived in London year round? Of course, once he assumed his uncle’s title, he’d live in Kent then. See to his holdings and lands and…
Quent said he was a scholarly fellow. So did he spend his time—
Someone cleared his throat in the doorway and Grace looked over her shoulder to find Phelps standing behind her. “My lady,” the butler began, “a Mr. Lacy has come to call. I’ve put him in the yellow parlor.”
Mr. Lacy had come to call? Quent hadn’t even invited him to dinner yet! That was fortuitous, wasn’t it? Grace smiled at the butler and said, “Thank you, Phelps. Would you please ask Lila to join us?”
Lila would, after all, make a much better chaperone than Mama who might scare Mr. Lacy off with a sharp word or tone. And Quent… who knew whathewould do or say any given moment? Lila was the best choice. Thank heavens Quent had married her the previous year.
“Lady Quentin is already in the yellow parlor,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Phelps was such a dear. He’d clearly already sorted everything out on his own. “Thank you,” she said and then quickly made her way to the parlor in question.
At her entrance, Mr. Lacy rose to his feet and his light eyes speared her where she stood. “My lady,” he breathed out, and he truly did seem enamored of her.
Yes. Daniel Lacy might do perfectly well, indeed. If she was going to have to marry some gentleman, she would prefer it if the fellow was enamored with her. How very lucky she was to have stumbled upon him at the museum yesterday. “How wonderful to see you again, Mr. Lacy.”
“And you, Lady Grace,” he said softly.
“Mr. Lacy was just telling me,” Lila began from a chintz chair across from the settee, “that his aunt is hosting a ball in a few weeks.”
“My cousin is making her debut this season,” he added, his eyes still on Grace.
“How lovely for her,” she said, dropping onto the settee.
He slid into the spot beside her. “Yes, lovely for her, not so lovely for me. I am the worst dancer in the world. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but there you are.”
He was charming, wasn’t he? Grace couldn’t help but smile. He might not make her heart race, but he was appealing, and she did like him rather well. There were certainly worse fellows she could set her cap for. “On the contrary, how refreshing to hear such honesty.”
“In any event,” he continued, “I am hoping that your family will join us. Always nice to see a friendly face at these sorts of things.”
Grace batted her lashes and said, “I’m certain you can probably convince us to attend.”
He seemed to bite back a smile. “In that case, I shall endeavor to do so.”
Chapter 7
Grace linkedher arm with Hope’s as they were announced by the Downe’s butler into the ballroom. Nerves hadn’t played any part of her season so far. Irritation, frustration, exhaustion, those she had experienced in spades. But, now, as she glanced around the Downe ballroom, nerves most definitely swamped her. What would she do, after all, if she couldn’t bring Mr. Lacy up to scratch? After the last week, she had most definitely decided that Mr. Lacy would do quite nicely as her husband, but what if he couldn’t be managed into making an offer for her? He did tend to get distracted by the oddest things.
Of course, he’d called on her every day over the last fortnight, bringing with him a different bouquet of flowers each time and going into great detail about the origins of each species, which was charming in a way. He was amiable, generous, and possessed a singularly unique wit. She hadn’t deluded herself. She wasn’t in love with him, and she doubted she would ever feel the same passion for him that she had for Oliver. But perhaps, in time, she could love him or feel more than just a little affection for him. After all, most marriages in thetonwere not love matches, but ones made of necessity, the merging of two houses. She wasn’t calculating, she was simply practical. Patience and their brothers had been exceedingly fortunate to have found love matches, but doing so was rare. Hoping she could ever love someone as much as she loved Oliver was futile and a waste of time, which Grace was quickly running out of. So planning for a decent husband was a much better use of her energy. And if she could keep Daniel Lacy focused long enough on the matter at hand, she had every hope that he could be brought up to scratch. But if he couldn’t, she didn’t know what she’d do.