My Cynical Marquess ~ Lords of Reluctance Book 1

Chapter Five

Grace sat in the drawing room with Lady Rutherford, going over the plans for the coming house party. Fortunately, she had not seen Lord Rutherford since he kissed her hand the previous night. Her thoughts whirled about her head in a state of disorderly confusion. Honestly, she did not know if she were coming or going.

Why he could not be bald as an egg or possess a squint, she did not know. Instead, his thick, jet-black hair shone under the muted candlelight and his sapphire blue eyes, the same eyes his mother possessed, appeared to see into her very soul. Just once, she would like to run her fingers through the soft, silky mass of his hair. To push back that one lock that persisted on flopping forward onto his noble brow.

Yes, he was handsome, but that was as far as his appeal went. What a pity his personality did not match his outer shell. He was most definitely the haughty peer, secure in his position within society, how she would love to bring him down a peg or two. Although, she had given it a fair crack the previous night, just thinking about it brought a wide grin to Grace's face.

Lady Rutherford sat next to her on the chaise with a rather pensive expression on her face. "I can hear you thinking, my dear," she said, her bell like voice ringing around the room.

The sudden breaking of silence bought Grace back to the present. "Oh, I am sorry, my lady," she said, rather sheepishly. "I fear I was wool gathering once again. I have a nasty habit of doing so at the most inopportune moments."

"Not to worry," Lady Rutherford replied, a knowing gleam evident within the depths of her eyes. "May I ask what you were thinking about?"

"Oh, just about the conversation I had with his lordship last night," she said. Despite herself, she grinned and went on to explain what transpired the previous evening. By the time she had finished, Lady Rutherford laughed so hard, she had to wipe the tears that streaked down her alabaster skin with a piece of crisp, white linen, monogrammed in gold thread with her ladyship's initials.

"Oh, you do have a way with words, my dear," she said, finally being about to speak through her laughter. "I would have loved to see the look on Nicholas's face. I am sure he has never had a conversation such as that with anyone before."

"I fear I was a little rough on him," Grace said. "I think I should apologise."

"Nonsense," Lady Rutherford replied. "Men are so set in their ways. They believe the world turns at their direction, and we are there to cater to their every need. It would do him good to hear the point of view of someone of the fairer sex."

"If you say so, my lady," Grace said, although, not quite convinced she should not apologise. Despite what his lofty lordship might think, her parents did raise her with manners. Her father grew up in an earl's house, after all. However, having Lady Rutherford's endorsement made her feel slightly better.

"And, another thing," Lady Rutherford said. "Now, I shall know what to do the next time I want to do something he does not approve of." The look she directed at Grace held a certain amount of cheekiness.

"Oh, and what is that?" Grace replied, raising her eyebrows.

"All I have to do is shock him with some outrageous ideas, my dear," she said chuckling. The sound brought a smile to Grace's face.

Porter entered the room, bearing all that was required for tea. A footman followed close behind bearing another sterling silver tray with an abundance of seed cake and ginger biscuits her ladyship preferred, certainly too much for just the two of them. They placed the trays down on top of the low mahogany table and made their bows, before exiting the way they had come. Grace did the honours, poured the tea, and handed the fine porcelain cup to Lady Rutherford. She did the same for herself before sitting back in her chair to enjoy the fragrant liquid.