Lady Cecily And The Mysterious Mr Gray. Janice Preston

of unease. He felt, rather than saw, the Duke’s irritation.

      ‘It is time we returned to the house.’ The Duke took Cecily’s arm and began walking. ‘I am sure Thea will be eager to hear how her horse fares.’

      Cecily accompanied her brother without protest. Daniel let out a low whistle.

      ‘That is a high-risk strategy, my friend.’

      Zach raised his brows and Daniel grinned.

      ‘No point in playing the innocent with me, but do take care. You might not realise it, but Cheriton is one of the most powerful men in the country. Cross him at your peril.’

      ‘If he is as powerful as you say, he can have no fear of a humble Romany.’

      ‘Humble?’ Daniel laughed. ‘I could describe you in many ways, Absalom, but humble ain’t one of ’em. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re every bit as high-born as most of the nobs I’ve encountered. Not Cheriton and his family, of course. They’re a breed apart.’

      His words—although spoken in jest—jabbed deep at Zach. If only Daniel knew... He schooled his expression as he saw his friend’s eyes sharpen.

      ‘I’ve never known a man so reluctant to reveal anything of himself,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m willing to bet you have a colourful past, but...’ he held his hands up, palms out, as Zach frowned ‘...have no fear. I know better than to probe further.’

      ‘I see no point in revisiting the past. It is best left behind, that way it can wield no power over you.’

      Daniel slapped Zach on the back. ‘If you say so, my friend. If you say so.’

       Chapter Six

      That evening Zach was the last to arrive for dinner. He found the Markhams and the Beauchamps—including Lady Perfect, who stood closest to the door—gathered in the salon. Thea squealed as soon as she saw him, jumped up from her seat on the sofa and rushed across the room to grab his hand—earning her a glare from her mother and a look of loving indulgence from her new husband. She pulled him further into the room.

      ‘Thank you, thank you,’ she exclaimed breathlessly. She halted next to Cecily, who appeared to look at him, but did not meet his eyes. ‘Cecily told me what you did for Star and Malky said you have showed him how to massage her and she already seems a little better. I wish I had been there, but we were—’

      ‘We were catching up on our sleep,’ a deep voice interjected. Vernon had joined them, sliding his arm around Thea’s waist. ‘You have my gratitude as well, Gray. If there is ever anything I can do in return, you only have to say the word.’

      ‘It gives me pleasure to help a creature in pain,’ said Zach. ‘I need nothing in return. I have hopes she’ll make a complete recovery, although she won’t be fit to be ridden for several weeks.’

      ‘Several weeks? But Daniel told me you will leave soon.’ Thea sounded horrified.

      Zach smiled. ‘I shall work with her again in the morning and continue to do so until I leave, but Pritchard and Malky are more than capable of caring for her.’

      The newlyweds soon lost interest in him and wandered hand in hand over to the window, leaving him alone with Cecily.

      ‘Well, my lady. Have you had a pleasant day?’

      ‘Most pleasant, Mr Gray.’ His keen eye detected the note of constraint in her well-modulated tones. ‘As did you, I trust?’

      So formal. So upright and ladylike, clad in a gown the colour of beech leaves in the autumn, its delicate fabric clinging provocatively to her curves. He took a moment to savour her, she looked so luscious—temptation personified. Pain stabbed his heart.

       Not for you. Never for you.

      Apart from that touch of restraint in her voice, there was no further sign of tension. Her hands—clothed correctly in elbow-length evening gloves—were loosely clasped at her waist. The perfect society lady. Not for her the enthusiasm and joy that Thea did not hesitate to display. How long would it be before life with the Beauchamps, and mixing with those in the highest level of society, depressed Thea’s bounce and turned her into yet another perfect lady?

      Cecily raised her brow, prompting him to respond to her question.

      ‘I did.’

      He regretted his brusque reply as a delicate flag of colour lit Cecily’s cheekbones. What else could he expect of her? She had told him she was thirty years old. Twenty-plus years, then, of being schooled to behave in precisely the way she was behaving now, conforming to the mores of her class.

      Polite. Dutiful. Restrained.

      The perfect lady.

       Do not blame her for what is not her fault.

      ‘I carried out some repairs to my cart and cleaned Titan’s harness.’

      He caught the flash of something else in those glorious green eyes. Some deep emotion, held tightly in check.

      ‘Where shall you go when you leave here?’

      He smiled, and shrugged. ‘I have not yet decided. Where the wind blows me, if you will.’

      He would set Titan’s head to the south-east and, sooner or later, he would catch up with his family.

      ‘I am sure that has disadvantages, but it also sounds so very—free.’ She ended on a wistful note. She had started to relax, her shoulders dropping, her eyes softening.

      ‘Have you told your brother of your plan to marry yet?’ He had grappled with that knowledge all day and yet...why? His common sense told him it was not his business what this perfect lady chose to do with her life. That connection between them was undeniable, but it was also unrealistic. Impossible. And he was not a man to hanker after the impossible.

      ‘I have not told him, so I should appreciate it if you do not mention it. I am not certain I shall confide my entire plan to my brothers—I shall simply experience a sudden urge to visit my Aunt Drusilla.’

      Mischief sparked in her eyes and her full lips twitched, coaxing a smile from him, and triggering a sudden craving to taste her again. He thrust that urge aside, along with the idle conjecture as to how her brothers might react were he to act on that impulse. Hung, drawn and quartered sprang to mind. His smile widened and she eyed him curiously.

      ‘You say that as though there is a joke in there somewhere,’ he said, by way of explanation.

      ‘You would have to meet my aunt to appreciate the humour. Even her sons—my cousins—avoid visiting Leyton Grange as much as possible.’

      In his peripheral vision, Zach noticed the Duke lean down to murmur into his wife’s ear, before straightening and turning purposefully towards Zach and Cecily. Zach easily interpreted his thoughts: his sister had talked to the gipsy for long enough and it was time to put a stop to the conversation. He obviously took his role of head of the family seriously. It was no wonder she behaved in such a restrained manner in his presence. How well did he—or the rest of her family—know the real Cecily that existed beneath this perfect outer shell? Had they, like him, ever sensed the wealth of passion simmering deep inside?

      The Duke had joined them. ‘Gray.’ He nodded a greeting.

      Zach nodded in reply. ‘Duke.’

      He was damned if he would continue to ‘your Grace’ the man.

      ‘Might I borrow my sister? My wife would like a word with her.’

      What could he say? Cecily threw him a tight smile, then crossed the room to sit with the Duchess. The Duke remained.

      ‘I am conscious we as a family are in your debt, Gray, but you would oblige me if you avoid