Grace by Deneane Clark

Author:Deneane Clark
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dorchester Publishing
Published: 2011-08-03T04:35:35.750000+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

What are you doing?” Faith asked.

Grace sat quietly upon the third step from the bottom, elbows on her knees, her small chin propped in her hands. Her eyes were fixed on the massive front door at the end of the long foyer. “I’m sitting,” she replied.

“Why are you sitting?” Faith asked with a puzzled frown. She sat down on the step next to Grace, leaned forward, and peered at the front door in confusion for a moment. The door looked just as it always had to her.

“I’m waiting, of course.”

“For what, please?”

“For whom,” corrected Grace.

“All right, for whom?” Faith amended patiently.

Grace smiled pleasantly at the door. “A low, morally corrupt, conniving, degenerate scoundrel.” Her voice was congenial. She might well have said she was waiting for the morning post.

“Lord Caldwell?”

“The same.”

Faith searched her sister’s composed face for any sign of the anger that should have accompanied Grace’s colorful description, but could find nothing unpleasant in her calm, unruffled features. “How do you know he’s coming?”

“He sent flowers with a note stating his intention to call at eleven to take me driving in the park.” A sudden thought occurred to her, and she looked away from the door for a moment to address her sister.“Would you like to go with us?”

“That depends,” said Faith with a direct look.

“On what?” Grace glanced again down the foyer. Her face brightened as she heard a conveyance pull up in front of the town house.

Faith shook her head. Whatever freakish plot her sister had contrived in order to punish Trevor, she knew from the way Grace was acting that she would certainly see it through. Nevertheless, she tried to divert her from what was surely a reckless path. “It depends upon what you intend to do about his lordship’s choice of escort last night.”

Grace grinned, her dimples flashing impishly. “Nothing,” she replied. The sound of the knocker echoed through the foyer, and Greaves shuffled toward the door. “Nothing at all,” she added under her breath. She stood and fixed her most dazzling smile on the tall man who stepped through the door.

“Good morning, Grace,” Trevor said. He smiled with pleasure at the breathtaking vision moving toward him, her face radiant, both hands outstretched in welcome.

She wore a high-waisted cream silk walking dress accented with tiny cobalt ribbons tied in cunning little bows at intervals on the scooped neckline, around the cuff of her small puffed sleeves, and along the scalloped hemline. A wide sash in the same lively shade of blue ran beneath her breasts and tied in a flat bow in the back, the ends falling in long, trailing streamers that reached almost to the floor, fluttering gaily behind her as she walked. Perfectly matched slippers and gloves encased her dainty feet and hands, and she wore her flaming hair pulled back from her face, secured at the crown with a blue filigree clip, then left to fall in riotous abandon well past her shoulders. The effect was simple, fresh, and incredibly alluring.

Trevor

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