The Disgraceful Lord Gray Read online

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  Thea watched her feet swish backwards and forwards in the water, feeling both stupid and guilty. The logical, adult half of her brain knew that what had happened to Archimedes was a fluke. Out of anyone’s control and just one of those awful things that happened from time to time when you least expected it. But Impetuous Thea’s brain still remembered the crushing guilt she had felt as a child at angering her papa so that he had driven away for the last time in a temper. A memory which might have been forgotten, had her uncle not had his stroke within an hour of another blazing row brought about by her wilful, rebellious nature and selfish intention to do exactly what she wanted—regardless of what he wanted.

  Somewhere along the line, those two tragically similar events had become intertwined and she had promised herself never to behave like that again, just in case they were linked and she was entirely to blame. It was nonsensical, yet she couldn’t shake it. She had always shouldered much of the blame for both her father’s untimely death and her uncle’s stroke—and always would. Carried both events around in her heart daily while trying, and ultimately failing, to behave better than that wilful girl she had been. Digging her heels in, shouting and slamming doors were largely a thing of the past.

  But as Gray had warned her, leopards didn’t change their spots. As much as she tried to curb Impetuous Thea, sometimes it was just too hard. Yesterday, she had allowed herself to be tempted again by forbidden fruit and it had ended in tragedy. Or at least near tragedy. Another similarity, which in her distressed state had petrified her and rendered her senseless for a good hour.

  Then common sense and reality had prevailed and she was heartily ashamed of herself. It was one thing to think nonsense in the private confines of one’s own head. It was quite another to allow the world to see it. Thea had worried her poor uncle when he didn’t need the stress, dominated all of poor Aunt Caro’s afternoon with her wailing and probably sent Gray running for the hills.

  Lord only knew what the poor man had thought. One minute she had been shamelessly pursuing him and the next she was a snivelling, grizzling mess against his chest. At the time, it had been the only place she had wanted to be. Still did, truth be known, and that didn’t frighten her half as much as it should, if at all.

  Gray had chiselled his way into her thoughts and occupied far too many of them, just as he had since she had first encountered him.

  Here.

  The exact spot where she had headed at the crack of dawn to lick her wounds. That was only partly what she had been doing for the better part of two hours, when she couldn’t glance at the water without picturing him in it and had probably come here with the express intention of doing so. Unhindered, unwatched and unjudged for her outrageous, lustful fantasies in which there was just her and him, cool water and a shocking absence of clothes.

  ‘There you are.’ He strolled into the clearing, making her jump, and stood a little awkwardly, eventually settling with his hands on his hips, taking in the whole clearing as if seeing it for the first time. How splendid. They were both beyond uncomfortable. ‘Archimedes seems well. It’s early days, of course, but so far so good. He has made excellent progress in just one day.’

  ‘Yes. I saw. Thank you. Even our pessimistic stable master is hopeful.’ She should probably apologise for her out-of-character and childish outburst, but had no earthly idea where to start without looking like a complete fool. Instead she stared back at her feet in the water, cringing, willing him away.

  ‘I suspect we need to have one of those honest conversations you’re so fond of.’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She couldn’t look up, but sensed him move closer. Then heard him tug off both boots before he lowered himself on to the bank next to her. He sat quietly, his bigger feet idly swishing next to hers, clearly assuming she should start. It was time to bite the bullet.

  ‘I’m sorry about yesterday. I got myself in a fluster.’ A hysterical mess more like. Clinging on to him like a ninny. Irrationally inconsolable.

  ‘A fluster?’ She could hear the smile. She didn’t need to humiliate herself further by looking at it. ‘If that’s what a fluster looks like, I’d hate to see you in a state. You scared the hell out of me. Do you want to tell me about it?’

  ‘Not particularly. It was a shocking bout of useless self-pity that I am heartily ashamed of.’

  ‘We all have our moments, Thea. Your horse was hurt and for a while things seemed grim.’

  ‘And in the midst of the crisis, I was a hindrance rather than a help. I hate that.’ Almost as much as she hated the hideous display of histrionics she had subjected him to.

  ‘I disagree. It was you who suggested the cart. You who fetched it and organised the grooms. In the midst of the crisis you were a rock.’ His hand found hers where it sat in her lap and he closed his fingers around it, instantly making her warm. ‘Only once the crisis was past did you falter. Something you are entirely entitled to do. Nobody can be a rock all the time. I just came to check you are all right now. I hated seeing you so upset.’

  ‘It’s silly having such an attachment to a horse. He’s just a horse.’

  ‘I’d be devastated if anything happened to Trefor. I adore the useless mutt. And Archimedes isn’t just a horse. He was your father’s horse. I understand how much the things which link you to a lost parent matter. My mother’s ruby means the world to me. I could never part with it. Fortunately, I never have to watch it age and die. Such attachments merely make us human, Thea, and, in case you were wondering, I certainly don’t judge you for falling apart at the prospect of losing him yesterday. Grief is also human. It’s real and it’s visceral and it hurts.’ Something he would understand more than most. ‘What does concern me is the way you blamed yourself for what happened, when you were blameless and it was the droning, spitting Colonel who shot the gun. He just came around to apologise, by the way. I left your uncle reading him the riot act.’ His other hand gently tipped her face to him. ‘Why would you blame yourself for a freak accident?’

  ‘It’s ridiculous. You really wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘You understood how I lost my fortune thanks to my momentous fluster all those years ago. What makes you think I won’t be equally as sympathetic?’ Those unusual silvery-blue eyes were unwavering and kind. ‘I am assuming it has something to do with your father... Your uncle told me the last words you exchanged on the day he passed were said in anger.’

  ‘They were.’ Thea considered lying, then discounted it. He would know if she lied. He was that perceptive. ‘He wanted me to spend an extra hour with my governess perfecting my times tables. I wanted to climb Uncle Edward’s apple tree. I told him I hated him and he never came back.’

  ‘You were a child. He knew you didn’t mean it.’

  ‘Did my uncle also tell you that the last words I said to him before his stroke were also said in anger? Just like that awful day when my father was killed, I had given the rebellious part of my nature free rein and as a result my uncle and I butted heads worse than we ever had before. The eerie similarities are not lost on me.’ He frowned, disbelieving. Who could blame him? To her own ears what she was trying to articulate sounded daft.

  ‘There was a man. An officer. He was a few years older than me, handsome, dashing and charming and like a dolt I believed all his flowery words. Uncle Edward saw right through him from the outset, but I wouldn’t listen. Even when I was presented with evidence of the man’s many debts I refused to consider such an experienced and intriguing gentleman would be so shallow to want only my money when he sounded so sincere. To cut a very short story shorter, being underage, I was forbidden from seeing my dashing soldier again and in response I was a total horror. I accused my uncle of being jealous, because his relationship with my aunt was so hideous he couldn’t bear to see me find true love.’ The next part was the bit she was most ashamed of, so turned her head away in case he also judged her as harshly as
she judged herself.

  ‘My uncle is not one to lay the law down, so the fact he had was unusual and I should have heeded him. But against his express instructions, I sent my beloved a note and crept out that night to meet him. He tried to seduce me, promising he would happily marry me once my virtue was gone, and alarm bells began to ring. We barely knew each other—three dances over two separate assemblies was the full extent of our acquaintance and already he was suggesting marriage? I was a dolt, but clearly still a suspicious one. It didn’t ring true. I tested the theory by lying and telling him that I wouldn’t receive a penny of my fortune till I turned thirty.’

  ‘If he had loved you, he wouldn’t have cared.’

  ‘I know. But instead he said something which proved me to be the stupidest of fools and the most wilful of idiots.’ She mimicked the scoundrel’s overly sincere voice. ‘Your uncle won’t see you in the poor house, my darling. I am certain the terms of your trust can be altered.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Ah, indeed. I ran home with my tail between my legs and walked through the door to chaos. My aunt was wailing about what was to become of her. Bertie was beside himself with grief and the physician said my uncle wouldn’t survive the night.’

  ‘Ergo, in your mind, you were somehow responsible for his stroke just as you were your father’s carriage accident? When you weren’t present for either event, nor witnessed the particular circumstances?’

  ‘Both times I was lured by forbidden fruit.’

  ‘Did your uncle know that you had disobeyed him?’

  ‘No. He still doesn’t.’ Gray was using logic when all the tangled emotions inside her were completely illogical. ‘I told you it was daft. But perhaps if I hadn’t roused both of their tempers, neither tragedy would have happened?’

  ‘And perhaps they still would have. None of us can fully control what fate has in store for us. How old were you?’

  ‘Barely twenty and too green for my own good.’

  ‘It’s a dangerous age, twenty. You think you know it all when really you understand nothing of the world. As I know to my cost.’ His foot brushed hers in the water and he stared down at it for a few seconds before moving it away. ‘I suppose there were echoes of what had happened before. Enough for a vivid imagination to combine and jump to superstitious conclusions. But that doesn’t explain yesterday’s reaction. You never once lost your temper or rebelled. Did it churn all that misplaced guilt up again? All we did was have a perfectly pleasant morning ride to the village.’

  ‘That Impetuous Thea orchestrated.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  ‘Impetuous Thea?’

  ‘The part of me that refused to learn my twelve times table the morning my father was killed. The part that gorged on apples instead. The same part that ran off to meet the soldier. Was letting him kiss her at the exact moment my uncle was struck down.’

  ‘The part that is obviously entirely responsible for two completely unlinked events, a decade apart, neither of which you were there for.’ He smiled, his thumb tracing lazy circles on the back of her hand that were playing havoc with her pulse despite her misery. ‘So you indulged in a bit of kissing? That doesn’t make you evil, merely human. And the fact that you were not compliant and sought a little adventure hardly justifies fate punishing you. It makes you interesting. Flawed, as we all are. You were twenty. Barely an adult. And unlike your father, your uncle didn’t die. If fate had truly wanted to punish you, that stroke would have killed him. It would have broken Archimedes’s leg in two. Have you considered that?’

  She hadn’t. That night and yesterday could have been so much worse. ‘Perhaps they were warning shots across the bow?’

  ‘Or more likely it was an unfortunate coincidence. As so much of life is.’ He leaned closer so that they touched from shoulder to hip. ‘I am intrigued to know how Archimedes’s sprain fits into this picture. What nefarious deed did Impetuous Thea do to make Colonel Purbeck fire off his gun at precisely that moment?’

  She tugged her hand away because his touch was waylaying her from her guilt. ‘I never should have been there in the first place! Impetuous Thea wanted to...’ Thea sighed, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and ridiculous. ‘The implausible long and the short of it is, I think fate punishes me for my wilfulness. That’s why I keep Impetuous Thea locked in her box.’

  He didn’t laugh. That was something. But he was quiet for the longest time. ‘If you were being scientific about it, you should probably test that theory.’

  ‘Test it?’ The idea was as daft as her fears were. ‘How do you suppose I do that?’

  ‘Tempt fate. Let Impetuous Thea out of the box for a month. Live in the moment, be a slave to her whims. Enjoy yourself. Eat every piece of forbidden fruit. If you are correct, then you are in for a horrendous few weeks and you can lock her up for good. If not, then life will continue much as it always does. There will be good things and bad things—because there always are. But unless there are significantly more bad things than usual, then I think you can safely and scientifically say it makes no difference if you cage the beastie or let her run riot. Life is far too short not to be yourself or to worry about what fate might throw at you, because in my experience it throws things at you regardless.’

  ‘You make it all sound simple.’

  ‘Not simple exactly, more philosophical. I’m all about leaving the past in the past where it belongs. It can’t be changed, so onwards and upwards. Embrace the moment and follow the path it sends you on. That is what makes life exciting.’

  ‘Is that another one of your mottos?’

  ‘It’s a bit long to be a motto in the strictest sense of the motto, more an edict to abide by. Let’s take what happened with Cecily as a classic example. It was all very tragic at the time and losing my fortune was an act of desperate stupidity—but if those two awful things hadn’t happened, I never would have joined the merchant navy. Then I never would have travelled the world and done all the things I’ve done. I wouldn’t have Trefor and I wouldn’t be here now. And you’d have been riding all alone with Archimedes and Colonel Purbeck might still have fired his gun—and without my hare-brained idea to truss him to the ceiling, the stable master would have put your old horse out of his misery and you’d be mourning him today instead of feeling sorry for yourself.’ He laced his fingers in hers and sighed. ‘My convoluted point is this, Thea. Things always happen for a reason, even if the reason for them is not immediately apparent. And if I may say, the last thing a woman with an imagination as vivid as yours should be doing is wasting time overthinking things. Nothing good can come of it.’

  He stood and pulled her up with him. ‘Out of interest, what did Impetuous Thea orchestrate yesterday?’ She instantly felt her face burn with the shame of it all. Hell would have to freeze over before she admitted she had only wanted to see him.

  ‘I can’t recall.’

  ‘That’s such a pity. Because from the ferociousness of that blush, it’s bound to be good. Never mind, I shall interrogate you all the way home to see if I can provoke...’ Thea planted both her hands in the centre of his chest, pushed and giggled as he went flying backwards into the water. He emerged, coughing and spluttering, but smiling. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Don’t blame me! You’re the one who told me to give Impetuous Thea free rein.’ Then she picked up her skirts and ran.

  * * *

  Gray found himself smiling as he fixed his ridiculously early morning coffee, then frowned when he realised he was smiling because of her. Again. Over the past week, he had been doing that a lot. Every morning he sprang out of bed at the crack of dawn filled with purpose, went to check on Archimedes, then used that as a flimsy excuse to call on her. Although yesterday she had been waiting for him at the stables and, instead of drinking tea in the company of her uncle, the pair of them had ended up chatting for more than an hour tramping across the meadow with Trefor
as he followed whichever sniffing trail took his fancy in between adoring Thea as only a besotted dog could.

  Lord Fennimore was delighted with Gray’s progress, assuming he was ingratiating himself into Gislingham’s circle diligently for the sake of the mission, when the mission had nothing to do with it. It was Thea he was actively seeking out and, while he asked the odd pertinent question which would help the King’s Elite, the bulk of his time was spent getting to know her.

  It was all very proper and platonic. All roughly within the parameters of their truce, but the fact that he didn’t flirt with her did not in any way reflect how much he wanted to or how hard he had to work not to. Although yesterday there had been a moment, when she had been smiling and he had been walking alongside her trying to make her laugh, when their eyes had locked for far longer than they should have and he had almost kissed her before he’d stopped himself. Since then, he had given a great deal of thought to that moment and still wasn’t entirely sure that not kissing her had been the right thing to do.

  A sound outside pulled him out of his pleasant musings a second before Fennimore came through the back door and stopped dead at the sight of Gray.

  ‘You’re up early.’

  He took in his superior’s guilty-looking appearance and his face split in a grin. ‘And you’re apparently home late.’ By the lack of cravat, ruffled hair and the crumpled evening clothes, the old man had either spent the night in a gaming hell—unlikely in this quiet corner of Suffolk—or unbelievably he’d spent the night with a woman. ‘How was dinner at Lady Crudgington’s?’

  ‘Very pleasant.’ But Lord Fennimore was glowing crimson. ‘But all that rich food gave me indigestion, so I decided to take myself off for a walk this morning. Early. Very early. As it was dark, I pulled on the first clothes that came to hand.’ It had been the old man himself who had taught Gray the art of spotting a liar. Liars, he was often prone to drone, always overembellished with too much detail.