Three Weeks to Wed by Ella Quinn

chamber, Grace thought back to the last time she’d spent the night at an inn and glanced at the large four-post bed with longing. A too vivid picture of Worthington lying next to her touching and kissing her raced through her mind. Her body responded to the memory, and an ache between her legs made her want him even more. If only he could hold her just once more. If she could watch him sleeping and not have to leave.
    She sighed.
    â€œIf you want to lie down, I’ll tell them to push dinner back.”
    Goodness, Grace hadn’t even heard her maid return. She needed to stop all this mooning about. It would do her no good at all. “No, I’m just a little fatigued from the travel. Not being in a coach until to-morrow is what I need.”
    That and to stop thinking about Worthington.
    * * *
    â€œWhat the devil’s wrong with you?”
    Matt glanced to his side as he made his way to the stables. A large bay gelding pranced prettily next to him. Mounted on the horse was the Marquis of Kenilworth. “Good morning, Kenilworth.”
    â€œAren’t you going with the hunt to-day?”
    For some reason, chasing after a small fox did not hold its usual interest. “No. As a matter of fact, I’m leaving for Town.”
    â€œWhy the deuce would you want to do that?” The man glanced at the group starting to form around the Master of the Hunt. “Only thing there this time of year are mamas getting their girls ready for their come out. Better off staying here.” Kenilworth raised a brow, and drawled, “Unless you’re in the market, that is.”
    Mac was leading the curricle out of the coaching house, and Matt was in a hurry. It hadn’t been until he’d arrived that he realized he was in completely male company. If his host’s ladies were in London, so might his lady be. Though he’d be damned if he would let Kenilworth know anything about her. He gave the marquis a chagrined look. “My sister’s coming out.”
    â€œI don’t envy you that.” Kenilworth gave a shudder. “Remember hearing what my mother had to go through with my sisters. Never been so glad to be the youngest. I made sure I wasn’t sent down from Oxford the whole of their Seasons.”
    Matt grinned. “I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks.”
    â€œOh no, you won’t.” Kenilworth looked at Matt as if he’d lost his mind. “I’m there for parliament and other entertainments. You’re not going to catch me around the types of parties you’ll be attending.” The other man tipped his hat as he rode away. “Might see you at Brooks though.”
    Matt climbed into his carriage, saluting the hunters as he drove toward the main road. He had no idea if his lady would attend the Season or not, but someone there must know who she was. As soon as he made sure his sisters were settled, he’d visit Marcus and Phoebe.
    * * *
    Charlotte and Grace had finally reached Mayfair. She rapped on the roof of the carriage. “Take us by Stanwood House if you please.”
    â€œAre we go’n in, my lady?”
    â€œNo, I merely wish to show Lady Charlotte where it is.”
    Ever since they’d reached London’s outskirts, Charlotte had been excitedly pointing out all the people, conveyances, and buildings.
    â€œThis is really much different than some of the areas we went through.”
    â€œIt is,” Grace agreed, wishing there was some way she could help those less fortunate. “Anyone who has pretensions of being in Polite Society lives in Mayfair. Here we come into Berkeley Square. Our house is the fourth one in from the end.”
    Charlotte clapped her hands delightedly. “I can’t wait to live here. That one floor looks to be all windows. Is that the school-room?”
    â€œIt is.” Grace craned her neck to be able to see it. “I’m exceedingly proud of how it turned out.”
    A few