All or Nothing at All (Stevens Book 3)

Chapter 1

Grace stopped at the steps and looked up at the open door as the noise of the party spilled down the steps and into the street.  Generally, she was good in social settings, but this time she had come for something specific; she had an end goal, and Grace would not be able to relax and enjoy the party until she had met her goal.

Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her A-line skirt, hoping her outfit would pass for a cocktail party since she hadn't had time to change after class. She was still wearing her dark blue suit with a pink camisole underneath, but she had at least checked her hair before she left to make sure that it was still snugly fastened at the nape of her neck.  Grace pushed her glasses further up on her nose straightened her shoulders as she started up the steps.

She wondered how long it would take her to identify her target, the Earl of Pennington. She was eager to talk to him about his estate in Kent.  The Anthropology department at the university she was lecturing at had wanted to set-up an archaeological dig on his property for several years, but there had never been a chance before now to approach the family about it. The dean of her department knew this, so he had contacted the department staff earlier this week about the Earl's presence at a party that evening.  

The department had taken a vote and had decided that Grace was the ideal person to make the initial contact. Their reasoning was that she was a young, pretty, and the one with "the most class" among them.  While part of her was flattered that they thought she was classy, Grace knew the real reason for her nomination was because she had the least to lose as a visiting lecturer. If she was turned down nothing was lost because she would be gone in two months and someone else could try.

Scanning the crowd, Grace studied faces, trying to figure which one was the Earl; guessing that he would be an older gentleman with white hair and a portly belly.  When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see the dean of her department, Clive Bennett, standing next to her.

"Grace." He handed her a glass of wine. "This will help you blend in with the rest of the crowd."

Taking the glass, she gave him a strained smile, ignoring the reminder that she was gatecrashing the party. A party which was being given as a thank you for a substantial donation from the Earl to the university and only the heads of the departments were supposed to be in attendance.

"Are you ready?" He looked at her. "You look ready."

"That's something at least." She gave a tense smile.

Clive put his hand in the small of her back and started to direct her towards a group near the large fireplace. "You'll like Bryce, all of the ladies seem to like him,  always have since we were at school together."

Grace stopped dead in her tracks at his statement and looked up at him. "You mean he isn't old?" Grace dug in her heels, forcing Clive to stop as well.

"No, does it matter?"

"Yes!" she almost shouted. She had prepared herself to deal with a kindly looking older grandfather of a man, not a relatively young man that all of the ladies seemed to like.

"Come on Grace. Where is that stern dignity that we have all come to admire?  I swear you're more British than most of the Brits I know." He laughed at his joke as he started to push her forward, but she forced him to stop again.

"If you know him so well, why aren't you doing the 'ask'?" Grace demanded as she was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of dread.

Grace was a tall woman, she was 5'8" in her stocking feet, so she was just about eye level with Clive, and she took the advantage she had by drilling him with her eyes.