Three Weeks to Wed by Ella Quinn Page A

minutes later, they arrived at Herndon House in Grosvenor Square.
    As the coach rolled to a stop, her uncle’s butler opened the door, and soon they were being led down a long corridor to the back of the house and announced.
    â€œMy dears.” Aunt Herndon rose from her desk and bustled toward them, a harried expression on her face. “I wasn’t expecting you until closer to dinner. Not that it matters, my housekeeper has had your rooms ready for days.” She hugged Grace then said, “Dear Charlotte, how you’ve grown. Let me look at you.” She held Charlotte’s chin with two fingers, turning her face one way then the other. “Perfect.” Aunt Herndon dropped her hand and smiled at Grace. “I could not have asked for better.”
    Charlotte’s chin firmed and Grace smothered a sigh. This was not the time for her sister to become miffed. It was very fortunate they were only spending one week at their aunt’s house. “Charlotte?”
    Charlotte curtseyed gracefully. “How pleased I am to meet you again, Aunt Herndon.”
    Their aunt smiled again, glancing at Grace. “Despite what everyone said would be a bad result. You’ve done a wonderful job, my dear. You should be proud.”
    Grace’s throat tightened. “Thank you for that and all your support.”
    Until her aunt had given her approval, she hadn’t realized how concerned she’d been about Charlotte’s come out. Other than her maternal grandfather, Lord Timothy, none of her relatives thought she was capable of raising her brothers and sisters. Her heart contracted at the memory of panic and nightmares her younger brothers and sisters had when, for a short time, it appeared they would be parceled off in ones and twos to family members. If it hadn’t been for his and then Uncle Herndon’s support, she would not have been awarded guardianship.
    Aunt Herndon turned back to Charlotte. “Call me Aunt Almeria, my child. I predict you’ll have a wonderful Season with many offers.”
    A few moments later, Charlotte and Grace were shown to their chambers, urged to rest, and informed that tea would be served at four o’clock in the back parlor. Grace removed her hat and gloves, handing them to Bolton. She’d not been able to cast off the lowness of spirit that had affected her since her rendezvous with Worthington, but her aunt’s words strengthened her resolve. There was more to her life than lying contented and loved in his arms. As hard as it was, her main focus must be on Charlotte and the rest of the children. Not Worthington and the way he made her laugh or agreed with her about political issues close to her heart. And God help her, not the way he held and kissed her and called her his love.
    Yet whenever she thought of him her body burned with remembered pleasure. That could not happen any longer. This whole matter had become much more complicated than she’d expected. Drat the man. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?
    Bolton helped her change moments before Charlotte fairly flounced into Grace’s chamber. “I cannot believe she did that.” Charlotte seethed with indignation. “As if I was some sort of prized horse. I should have shown her my teeth.”
    Grace passed a hand over her brow, then fixed her sister with a look. “You may as well calm down now. It will not be the last time something of the sort occurs.”
    Charlotte frowned and her lower lip thrust out. “Did you have to go through it?”
    Drawing Charlotte to the small sofa set before the marble fireplace, Grace placed her arm around her sister as she thought back to her first Season. “Yes, of course. It won’t last long and fighting it will only make you appear churlish. It is for this exact reason we practice our manners. So that no matter the provocation, one is able to respond with proper restraint.”
    She might have been better off