Page 92 of How the Earl Entices

Ross took a sip. “At least now you can stop pretending that you want to be a vicar.”

“Never.”

His brow inched up.

“Women love it.” A crooked grin twisted at Kit’s lips, and despite his fatigue, his eyes sparkled. “Who am I to stand in the way of their spiritual enlightenment?”

Good Lord.But Ross was too tired to roll his eyes.

“Congratulations,” Kit said quietly.

Ross nodded, his jaw tightening against a grimace of remorse. It was damnably hard to feel victorious when a good man had died and another he had long admired proved himself a traitor.

“But don’t ever risk your life like that again,” Kit added somberly. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

For a moment, the two brothers held each other’s gaze in silent connection. Then Ross let a teasing smile tug at his mouth. “Don’t want to be earl, hmm?”

“God no!” Kit gave an exaggerated shudder of horror.

As Ross chuckled, Kit slumped down into the chair and kicked his legs out in front of him. It had been a long and draining day. Tomorrow would prove equally grueling for both of them, but for now, they had a few hours of reprieve.

And important matters yet to discuss.

Ross shoved himself out of his chair to refill their glasses. As he topped off both drinks, he tossed out casually, “Grace is quite a woman, isn’t she?”

“Very much so.”

“Brilliant, kindhearted, loyal to a fault…a wonderful mother.” Keeping his eyes on Kit to gauge his brother’s reaction, he lowered himself into his chair and said quietly, “I want her to be the next Countess of Spalding.”

Kit’s gaze darted to his in surprise, for a moment attempting to discern if Ross was serious. Then, despite his fatigue, he grinned and repeated, this time with delight, “Congratulations.”

But Ross couldn’t let himself give over to happiness. Not yet. “I want your blessing.”

“Of course you have it.”

He shook his head. “It isn’t that simple. My marriage to Grace will affect the Spalding title and you. I need you to know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

Kit didn’t move, but Ross sensed a hardening in him. An invisible alertness that made him one of the Home Office’s best operatives.

Leaning forward in his chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands folded around the glass he held between them, Ross never moved his gaze from Kit, even as he explained quietly, “Grace isn’t who she seems.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” his brother muttered with a smile.

“When her husband died, she was robbed of her inheritance. She feared for her life and that of her unborn child, so she went into hiding. Eventually, she faked her own death and has lived under a false identity for the past ten years.”

Kit’s smile faded. “I was kidding.”

“I’m not.” He took a large swallow of whiskey, welcoming the burn. He’d determined to marry Grace. Nothing would dissuade him. But he also wanted his brother’s blessing, despite the potential upheaval to both their lives. “When the Earl of Spalding weds a dead society widow, returned from the grave and demanding restitution, scandal will rain down upon us like fire and brimstone.”

“Then let it rain,” Kit murmured, his gaze steely with determination. “When have we ever cared what society thinks of us?”

“And King George? We’re both serve at the pleasure of the king, don’t forget. The kind of scrutiny we’ll receive from society will make it damnably hard to do your job, and I’ll lose my post out right. My diplomatic career will be over.”

He wasn’t prepared for the stab into his chest that uttering it aloud brought. Kit had been right earlier, when he said that Ross would have been offered an ambassadorship. Perhaps even the newly vacated post in France, now that its former occupant sat behind bars in Newgate, awaiting trial and certain execution. It would be the apex of Ross’s diplomatic career, one befitting the duty and loyalty he’d shown to his country, and exactly what he’d wanted since he joined the Court of St. James’s. No, since long before that, when he donned his first uniform and realized what it meant to serve England.

Now, though, he wanted Grace. More than he wanted an ambassadorship. More than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life.

“Despite all that, I am marrying her.” The resolve in those quiet words sounded with the force of cannon fire. “I don’t know that I deserve your blessing, Christopher, knowing the hardship that’s going to befall you. But I’d very much like to have it.”