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lead to other temptations and he did not
think Grace would want him to see her natural and exposed, at least not yet.
    He slipped from the bed and into his trousers. The note he
had prepared for her went on the bedside stand. When she opened it, she would
realize the seriousness of his offer.
    Once he collected his other garments and his greatcoat, he
eased from her room and pulled the door shut quietly.
    “Good morning, Lord Ridgley.” Mr. Felix stood alone in the
darkened hallway, neatly dressed as if he had stood guard all night. “Did you
sleep well, my lord?”
    “Not at all. I thank you for your concern.” Ridgley walked
past him.
    “You do the duchess a great disservice.” Felix fell into
step beside him.
    “I don’t think that is what she thought.”
    “Pardon me for saying so, but men like you are a
commonplace, Lord Ridgley. And the Duchess of Hammond is the finest woman any
of us know. We would not take kindly to anyone who might wish to hurt her.”
    “Then you will be relieved to know I have only the most
honorable intentions. I intend to marry your duchess.”
    “I do not see how that is possible, since she recently
accepted an offer from the local vicar.”
    * * * * *
    On Fridays, Grace and Vicar Lawrence took foodstuffs to
those in need. Several local woman baked breads. She donated a slaughter animal
monthly that was roasted and divided up into portions. Fall usually brought an
onslaught of extra goodies, including baskets of fruit and homemade jams.
Anyone in need was welcome to receive the charity but Grace found it was
usually a matter of pride that kept people from asking and a matter of local gossip
that kept her and Vicar Lawrence busy.
    By the time she had descended the stairs she was in a
quandary.
    How could she look her servants in the eye? Trish was
unusually cheerful, insisting on an elaborate hairstyle completely unsuitable
for anything but a grand ball.
    How was she to spend the day with the vicar after last
night? Could one scrub the evidence of an indiscretion from their being? Or
were her lips still puffy and her cheeks scarlet?
    And how was she to see Sebastian? What could she say to his marriage
offer? His note had convinced her of one thing. He was serious. Aside from the
obvious declarations, he had folded a special license inside.
    Before he had left London, he had planned to marry her. He
had planned to marry her before he had seen what Hammond had done to her face.
    She had told Vicar Lawrence yes when he had so sweetly
proposed. How was she to go back on her agreement? Of course, she could not.
    How was she to give up on the dream of a lifetime?
    “The gig and the cart are ready, Your Grace.” Mr. Felix
stood in the hallway, hands behind his back. His gaze was slightly averted.
    How mortifying. Of course the household knew. Nothing was
secret, even on such a large estate.
    She yanked on her gloves. “You are aware Lord Ridgley is
still in residence?”
    “Yes, Your Grace.”
    “Please see he is attended since his valet is not here.
Advise him I shall return around four.”
    At the vicarage, Albert Lawrence emerged. She scooted to the
opposite side so he could take the reins.
    When she saw him, she knew some things were just right.
    * * * * *
    The day was filled with gratification for her. Had she
remained in London, she would have grown in to the aloof and grand Duchess of
Hammond, barely able to dirty her hands or speak to a commoner.
    The scars had changed her life in more ways than one. In
spite of their brutality and awfulness, she thought she might be a better
person for it. What she had lost in superficiality she had gained in depth of
character.
    But she would admit it was hard not to be beautiful anymore,
especially when it came to men.
    How could Sebastian be serious?
    She had sent the empty cart ahead and took the leisurely
route back to the estate. She wanted to give Sebastian time to change his mind.
He could not live without the excitement of London—the