Mastering the Marquess by Lavinia Kent Page B

his stall until dinner. I don’t think anybody cared that I was there or worried what I was doing, but I always acted with utmost secrecy. Some of my best moments were spent in the stables.”
    “I have a secret about the stables, too.” Her fingers beat a light tattoo upon his chest. “I cannot sing. And I mean I really cannot sing. Even the footmen cringed when I tried, and it took a lot to make my mother’s footmen show any sign of emotion. The problem is that I love music and love to try my hand at a tune. When I was a child it was the only thing that ever made my mother scream; usually she just spoke in a tone that let me or my brother know we had done something very, very wrong.”
    “And what does this have to do with stables?”
    “In the later years of my marriage, when I was left alone, I would sneak down to the stables at night and sing to the horses. They never seemed to mind, although I confess I often brought a couple of ripe apples with me. I am sure some of the groom’s boys knew what I did but they never said anything. I felt so free when I was there.”
    Her head joined her hand upon his chest. Normally he hated these moments, saw them as false caring, but this felt quite right. He wrapped his arm about her.
    “I’ve never felt free, or ever wanted to,” he replied. “It must sound odd, but my family could be too free, and so all I wanted was order, order and reason. I was probably the only boy who fled to the schoolroom instead of away from it. When I was sent to Eton it felt like being sent to heaven—all those rules and regulations. I knew what I should do and what would happen if I did not. It was wonderful.”
    “That was not how my brother described it.” She snuggled even closer, all soft and warm and sweet.
    “Your brother went to Eton? When?”
    He felt the intake of her breath. Her body pulled away slightly. “No. I didn’t say that. I just meant that he went away to school and most definitely did not find it wonderful.”
    He wasn’t sure if he believed her or not, but he was certainly not going to speak in challenge. “Can I ask you something?’ he said, changing the subject. “I fear you may find it a bit embarrassing, but I probably should have spoken before.”
    “You can ask me anything,” she answered. “Although I do not promise to answer.”
    “Did you talk to Ruby about pregnancy? I would not wish to leave you with child. I should have asked earlier, but I confess you rather distracted me from practical thought. I should probably have asked her myself.”
    She turned her face into his chest. Was it possible to feel a blush?
    “I’ve just finished my menses, only a day ago. Madame Rouge said this was a safe time, though nothing is ever guaranteed. I did ask. I would not wish to seek a new husband with a babe already in my belly. It would be most dishonest.”
    His gut curled at the thought of her finding a husband. He figured it must be because at this moment she was his and his alone. He’d never seen the attraction of virgins, but he had to admit that it filled him with warmth to know he was Grace’s only lover. “Yes, no man would take well to being fooled in such a manner.”
    “Madame did say that I could come to her for help if I found myself in such a situation. I would confess I am not sure how she could help me. I can’t imagine she has the contacts to send me away until after the birth.”
    Grace would probably be surprised by what contacts Ruby did have, he knew, although he was not sure that was the type of help Ruby had meant. He doubted that many of Ruby’s girls who found they had a bun in the oven ever carried the child to term. But his Grace did not need to know about that. “She was only trying to be helpful.”
    “I am sure you are right. She is not at all what I expected a madam to be like.”
    “Ruby is always full of surprises and secrets. And I should tell you that should you find yourself in such a situation, send me a note