Confessions of Lady Grace

by Rachel Ann Smith

  Grace moved faster, reaching the exit first. “I shall consider your recommendations. No need to escort me to the door, I’ll be perfectly safe.” She rose and stepped down to leave.

  “Then I shall wait here until you have entered.”

  “Suit yourself.” Stubborn man. No one was going to accost her this close to home. With a few quick strides, she was at the entrance of the townhouse.

  Silverman swung the door open just as her foot landed on the last step. “His lordship is awaiting you in his study.”

  Grace must have misheard. Her papa should be abed at this hour. She nodded, slipped off her gloves, and gave them, along with her wrap and reticle, to the butler. “I assume he intends to lecture me on having left Aunt Emily to fend for herself at Redburn’s.”

  “I’ve not a clue what his lordship intends, but your aunt did pay a visit earlier, my lady.” Silverman raised his lit candle and led her down the hall.

  She could hear her papa’s grumblings from the hallway. He was definitely not in a pleasant mood. Squaring her shoulders, she entered the surprisingly warm room.

  Her papa stood by the mantel of the blazing fire. “Ah, there you are, Gracie girl. Come join me by the fire.”

  The intensity of his gaze and tone made her feel like she was eight years of age again and he had found her reading the paper instead of doing needlepoint. She took her time arranging her skirts that had somehow become twisted like the knots in her stomach.

  “Where did you venture off to this eve?” Her papa drummed his fingers on the wood mantel.

  What was she to say? That she left because of boredom and had tired of waiting for her faux fiancé to appear? Or because she had an inkling Matthew was in trouble again? Neither seemed a sound enough reason to leave the ball in haste. Grace crossed and uncrossed her legs at the ankles.

  The tapping stopped. “Love is confusing. It’s illogical, volatile, and painful all the while, it makes one believe they are at the heights of existence, and no matters seem impossible.” He moved to sit in the chair next to her. “I’ve found over time emotions like love can cause one to believe they are acting in the best interest of others but to the detriment of oneself.”

  Grace was tired, and the constant pounding in her head made it even more challenging for her to follow the direction of the conversation. “Papa, I don’t understand your meaning.”

  “You and Harrington fell in love and from the beginning were in sync with one another.”

  Grace stared at her papa. His statement couldn’t have been further from the truth. Yes, they each claimed to love the other, but they were hardly in agreement from the start. Matthew wanted to marry right away. She wanted to wait. If they had been in accord, he would never have left, or she would have at least understood why he had chosen to venture to the Continent.

  Grace said, “I believe his actions prove otherwise.”

  Her papa shook his head. “Gracie, you are a good girl. Always following the rules, even the ones others often ignore. You care deeply for others and are extremely loyal. Are you sure you want to marry Harrington? You’re not marrying him because I expressed my wish for it to be so or for other reasons I’d rather not discuss?”

  It didn’t surprise Grace that her papa was aware and didn’t want to discuss the matter of her maidenhood, but what did come as a shock was him questioning her love for Matthew. Of course, she wanted to marry Matthew. She had gone to extreme lengths to ensure his safe return. Yet hadn’t she done the same for Blake during the war? Squeezing her eyes tight, she tried to reorganize her muddled thoughts. Focus on the facts, and the rest will sort itself out. The motto she had lived by for years. On a shallow breath, Grace said, “Matthew proposed this eve, and I agreed. We are to be wed tomorrow. Assuming Tobias comes through on his promise.”

  “Why did you say yes?”

  “Beg pardon?”

  “Why did you agree to marry Harrington? All the recent reports I’ve received state he has returned a different man.”

  “Aye. Matthew is not the same, and I’d not expected him to be. After the harrowing events he experienced, how could it not have affected him? Was it not you who told me life occurrences influence how one makes future choices but do not alter one’s soul? Matthew is fundamentally the same man to me. It may take years or the remainder of our lives for him to be rid of his nightmares and insecurities that were born from his captivity, but I want to be the woman next to him—the one to be there for him.”

  “Ahh… I understand. You are a replica of your mama.” He rose and banked the fire. “It’s growing late. We both need rest.” He assisted Grace to her feet and escorted her out to the hall where a droopy-eyed Silverman was waiting. As they followed the butler, her papa said, “Have Cook prepare a light affair in the morn and let’s partake in an early-morning stroll. I’d like to be of sound mind for your wedding.”

  He was slightly out of breath as they approached his door. Before he left Grace, he said, “Don’t forget.”

  “I won’t, Papa. I’ll remember.”

  At a slower pace, Grace followed Silverman down the corridor to her chamber. Fully aware she was about to break several conventions, she said, “I know you have an opinion on tomorrow’s events, and the walls are not so thick you didn’t hear of my papa’s concerns. Do you think I’m making the wrong decision in marrying Lord Harrington?”

  Silverman’s gaze shifted from left to right and back again. When she thought he’d not answer, the butler cleared his throat. “I’ve been in your family’s employ since you were but a babe. I agree with his lordship. You tend to think of what matters to others first and especially so when Lord Harrington is involved. Be selfish for once and do as you wish.”

  “Thank you for sharing your thoughts on the matter.”

  Grace entered her dark room and leaned back against the door. Her maid was asleep in the chair next to her bed. Remaining quiet, she rolled the back of her head against the solid wood and let her mind roam.

  Her papa was a wise man, but her inability to share and display her emotions was the real cause of his concern. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Matthew; it was that she was reluctant to act upon it in front of others. She used her sham engagement as an excuse not to share her true feelings, even with Matthew. He’d always been able to interrupt her actions and translate them into words that she found difficult to form.

  Her shoulders slouched forward as a deep ache formed in the center of her chest. She had assumed Matthew would again simply know how much she cared for him, but how could he? They had rarely spent any time together alone for her to show him the depths of her love, and she certainly hadn’t spoken of it when they had a chance to be in each other’s company. Eyes closed, she slowly slumped to the ground, and curled her knees to her chest.

  A hand brushed over her bent head. Tilman softly said, “My lady, let me help you to bed.”

  How long had she sat upon the floor? The ache in her chest remained, but she no longer felt tired. “No, I must seek out Lord Ellingsworth. I need his help.”

  “It’s late, and there are but a few more hours before we must start to prepare for the wedding. I’ll assist in getting a message to him. What is it that you need?”

  The tone Tilman used was one Grace had never heard before. Searching her maid’s eyes, there was a clarity to them that told Grace the woman considered the matter serious and would not fail her.

  “I need Lord Ellingsworth to know that, while Matthew would never intentionally fail to deliver upon his promise, ceasing his inquiries into PORFs is impossible. No. The message needs to be less wordy.”

  Tilman let out a laugh and assisted Grace to stand. “Not to worry. All will be as it should be, my lady. The network and Lady Theo have already begun working on setting matters straight.”

  “Theo? The network?” Grace asked as her maid turned her about by the shoulders and undressed her. After her stays were loosed and removed, she asked, “How do you—”

  Tilman p
ulled her chemise up over her head, cutting off the rest of her question. “You and Lord Harrington have been meddling for years. I was assigned to monitor your progress.”

  “Assigned by whom?”

  Slipping a nightgown over Grace’s head, her maid started removing hairpins and popped them in her apron.

  Grace tried again, “Whose orders do you heed?”

  “Yours, my lady.” Tilman picked up her evening gown and retreated to the changing chamber where Grace’s wardrobe was housed along with a cot that her maid occasionally made use of.

  When Tilman failed to reappear, Grace climbed into bed. She would have to trust her friend. Theo would, as Tilman had phrased it, set matters straight.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Why had he not worn gloves? Matthew withdrew his finger from his mouth and spat out the droplet of blood. Damn climbing rose bush. The overgrown plant significantly slowed his progress. Scratched and pricked by thorns, he heaved himself up the last three inches to latch on to Grace’s windowsill.

  He rapped on her window. Three quick taps, a pause, two quick taps, a pause, and one last quick tap. It was the code she had insisted he use in order for her to open the damn window.

  Moments later, the window opened, and a groggy sounding Grace said, “Matthew?”

  He counted to five to give her time to step back, and then he pushed himself headfirst through the window. “I hope I never have to do that again.” Matthew straightened and tugged on his coat sleeves. He waited for Grace to enthusiastically wrap her arms about him like she used to. Instead, she stood a good foot away with her hands on her hips.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you about our plans for tomorrow.” Grace launched herself at him, and he stumbled backward. Arms wound tight about his neck she stared at him with brown eyes filled with worry. “I’m terrible at expressing my feelings. I know you are not the same man as before, but I still love you, and I’ll never stop. I’m not the same woman you proposed to either. I’m more cynical and definitely less trusting, but I hope you will still love me and want to marry me.” She heaved in a deep breath and rested her forehead against his chest.

  Knowing the toll her emotional confessions must have taken, Matthew rubbed her back and squeezed her to him. “I’ve never stopped loving you, even when I stupidly believed you had accepted a proposal from Ellingsworth. I’m going to marry you.”

  Her breathing evened out, and he guided her back to bed. She crawled up onto the bed, and he was tempted to follow her, but he was in full court attire under his greatcoat. Grace tugged on his hand, inviting him to lie next to her. Her pleading brown eyes were hard to resist. She frowned up at him as he pulled the sheets and the coverlet up over her, but her lips curved into a smile as soon as he shifted to sit on the edge of the bed facing her. Unable to toe-off his boots, he bent to tug them off. Readjusting his coat to sit more comfortably, he sat up to find Grace had scooted down and was mere inches away. Staring at her long, unbound hair, Matthew leaned in and wrapped his hand around the side of her neck, his fingers grazing against her soft locks.

  Grace tilted her head and whispered, “Kiss me.”

  He wanted to give in to her request, but he was uncertain he’d have enough self-control to stop after one kiss. “First, I must tell you…” Matthew paused as the sweet scent of lilacs registered. His fingers tightened about the back of her neck as he gave in to temptation and placed his lips against her soft, inviting mouth. He was right; he couldn’t stop at one kiss. Grace opened for him, and his tongue sought out the taste of her. He’d dreamed of making slow love to her, of taking her in every position imaginable and of lying about merely kissing. Hours away from finally making Grace his marchioness, he’d settle for kisses for now.

  Lost in their open-mouthed kisses, Matthew froze when Grace slipped her hand under his shirt and ran a finger over his nipple. The minx had somehow managed to breach the many layers that were between them. Her palm skimmed over his puckered and scarred skin. Matthew cringed. His muscles bunched tight as he waited for her to stop and withdraw in revulsion. Instead, her hand drifted down his side and stilled at his waist. Grace pulled back and glanced down between them.

  One of his many nightmares was about to play out. Would it be the one where she told him he wasn’t half the man he used to be or the one in which she told him she no longer wished to touch him? The latter would be crushing, as physical touch was Grace’s way of communicating her love for another. He inhaled and braced himself for what was to come.

  Rather than pushing him away or fixing the layers of clothing between them, she said, “You are dressed for court, but you are not due for hours yet.”

  The swell of relief that she hadn’t rejected him was quickly replaced by irritation. Her inadvertent admission to having been at the park throughout the entire ordeal meant Ellingsworth was right. She had no regard for her own safety. With a quick, chaste kiss upon his chin, Grace wiped his irritation away, and his desire roared back. He captured her lips and kissed her until they were both gasping for air.

  Matthew sat back and attempted to give her his most serious glare. “So you were there, and I need not have come to see you.” He groaned as one side of her mouth kicked up in a grin. Damn, the woman was alluring. After a long period of abstinence and longing for her, he pushed her back to lie upon the bed and loomed over her.

  Wrapping her arms about his neck once again, Grace pulled him down to her. “I’m glad you are here. Now, I have the chance to tell you how much I’m looking forward to marrying you and working”—she waggled her eyebrows at him and then continued—“with you.”

  Matthew chuckled as he fondly remembered their time working together. Their meetings always began with great intentions of solving the department’s problems or planning the newest mission. Images of Grace’s head bent over papers and maps and then of her lying naked atop a pile of cushions, rosy-cheeked and satisfied, had Matthew dipping his head and kissing the woman he loved. He’d only ever been with one woman, and she was wiggling beneath him, driving him mad. “Grace, if something… I wanted you to know…”

  Grace placed a finger over his lips. “Shh… Have faith in Theo. Try not to be late… but if you are, I will be waiting for you.” She replaced her finger with her lips.

  Had he heard her correctly? Why was Theo involved? Her kisses were distracting. Rather than focusing on the intricate workings of PORFs, the network, and the Crown, Matthew gave in to the moment and shifted so he could lie next to her.

  Lying face-to-face on their sides, Grace asked, “Do you not care for my hands to be upon you anymore? You didn’t seem to mind the other night in the gazebo, but tonight…”

  He would love to have her hands on his skin, but his body was scarred, and some sections remained numb. Matthew wasn’t sure why he had become more self-conscious of his injuries this evening. “I’m sorry, I know how important it is for you to be able to communicate via touch.” He rubbed his cheek against her soft palm. “I do love your caresses, but we are to wed tomorrow, and I had the crazy notion that we should wait to be intimate until after the ceremony. I came here tonight to talk, not to take advantage of you.”

  She closed her eyes for a brief moment, then asked, “Are you worried about your meeting with Prinny?” Grace rubbed her thumb back and forth over his cheekbone with her eyes trained on him.

  The answer was absolutely. Matthew had entrusted Ellingsworth, a near stranger, to see to it that Prinny heard his case and did not find him guilty of treason. Matthew simply nodded and closed his eyes.

  Grace’s soothing strokes stopped, and her hand left his face. She whispered, “Stay with me a while.” The rustle of material was all he heard; he dared not open his eyes. Grace lifted his arm and placed it securely about her waist as she snuggled her back against him. “I feel safe with you here, and I admit I’m exhausted.”

  Her admission was heart-wrenching. He would stay for a bit. It was the least he could do f
or her. “I’ll need to leave before your family awakes.”

  Matthew wasn’t confident she even heard his response. Her breathing was slow and even, as if she had fallen asleep as soon as she settled into his embrace. He didn’t seek out sleep immediately. He merely matched his breathing to hers. In the dark with a warm bundle next to him, the silence didn’t bring him nightmares. Instead, for the first time in a long time, Matthew allowed himself to picture a future that had them together, happy and surrounded by children. Knowing Grace’s opinions on family and how she had longed for a sibling, he hoped he would be able to provide her with a large brood of her own. He promised himself he would start working on it as soon as they were married.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The bed linens tangled about her as Grace rolled over. Matthew was gone. Struggling to free herself, Grace mumbled. “Bloody covers.”

  “Thank heavens, you are awake.” Tilman hovered over her and brushed back the wayward strands of hair that covered her face. “Not that it looks like you slept a wink.” Her maid’s eyebrows scrunched into a fierce scowl.

  Glaring at Tilman, Grace sat up and said, “I’ll not agree to you placing potatoes over my eyes again.”

  Tilman winked at Grace before turning to the table next to the bed. “Very well, my lady. Good thing I requested cucumbers from Cook this time.” Swiveling back with two slices of the fruit dangling from her fingertips, Tilman ordered, “Lie back, my lady.”

  Eyes closed Grace reluctantly scooted down to rest her head upon the pillows.

  “Let this sit awhile. Promise not to move until I’ve returned with your wedding dress.”

  The last thing Grace wanted to do this morn was upset her maid. “I promise.”

  The door hinge squeaked as the door closed. She would have to see to it they were oiled. Grace’s chest contracted. No, she wouldn’t. After the wedding, this chamber would no longer belong to her. She wouldn’t be returning to her papa’s townhouse if all was to go to plan. Grace wasn’t due for her monthly cycle for another week, yet her stomach knotted and cramped. She overlapped her hands and placed them on top of her tummy and took deep calming breaths.