White Regency 03 - White Knight Read Online Free PDF Page A

soft summer
wind through Grace’s thoughts. Gentle knight. Knight…
    Was it possible? Could this Marquess
Knighton be the one her grandmother had spoken of? Had Nonny somehow sent him
to protect her as she had promised, or was she being silly and the significance of his name
merely a coincidence?
    “Grace?”
    At her uncle’s summons, Grace came into
the doorway of the study where he yet sat. She thought again of her
grandmother, whose own marriage had been arranged and which had still brought
her great happiness. Her mother and father had met only days before their
wedding and, according to Nonny, they could not have been more in love. All her
life, Nonny had read Grace countless tales of the great lovers—Tristan and
Isolde, Heloise and Abelard—whose loves had survived against great, almost
insurmountable odds. Nonny had promised her granddaughter that one day she
would have the same, that she would be given her own knight in shining armor.
    Grace thought then of what would happen if
she didn’t agree to the marriage. Where would she go, what would become of her
should her uncle end up in debtor’s prison? She had no acceptable means of
supporting herself; few ladies of her social standing did. She had never been
to Westminster before, but from the sounds of it, it likely wouldn’t be a
pleasant place. The way things presently stood, it seemed she really had no
choice in the matter. She would have to marry eventually. It was the role she
had been raised to fill, all she had been taught to expect. Why not, then,
marry the duke’s grandson? At the very least, he was nearer her own age.
    “I would see him first before I could
ever agree to wed him.”
    Tedric looked as if he might refuse. His
mouth flattened into a thin line and his brow drew close over his eyes. After a
moment, though, he nodded. “I will see what can be arranged. But I cannot
promise anything.”
    Several evenings later when Uncle Tedric
was on his way out—probably for his club, Brooks’s—he stopped a moment at the
parlor door where Grace sat playing at the pianoforte. She had often heard it
said that music had a way of uplifting one’s spirits—especially, Grace had
found, when one vented one’s spleen upon the keys.
    From the corner of her eye, she could see
her uncle lingering
in the doorway but she continued to play her piece, striking the keys with
renewed vigor. When she had finished, he came into the room, applauding softly.
    “That was lovely, Grace. You are
growing more and more accomplished each time I hear you.”
    It was quite a compliment, considering
that on the last occasion he had listened, she had been twelve. Grace looked at
him over her music sheet. He was smiling at her, his eyes filled with a
contrived warmth.
    “You shall make a fine duchess some
day, Grace. Your name portends it.”
    Grace took little solace from his comment.
Instead she turned the music sheet over for the next piece. Ah, perfect— fortissimo. She glanced at him. “I’ll take that as indication that you have
arranged for me to meet the marquess?”
    Tedric nodded, obviously pleased with
himself as he adjusted his kid glove. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
    Grace lifted her fingers from the keys.
She folded her hands in her lap, waiting.
    “Meet is perhaps the wrong choice in words. You see, there
can be no introduction, no conversation between you. His grace the duke
expressly forbids it.”
    “He forbids me to meet the man I’m to
spend the rest of my life with? What does he seek to conceal?”
    “There is nothing to conceal, my
dear. Lord Knighton is considered to be the bachelor among the ton, quite
the buck about town, sought after for his wealth and title as well as his looks
by every suitable young lady with a mind toward marriage. It is precisely
because he is in such demand that the duke doesn’t want the marriage between
you made public until after the ceremony has been performed. It is really for
your benefit as well as the