Grace

by Deneane Clark

  Trevor couldn’t believe she meant what he thought she did. Could she really be so eager to begin their wedding night? He searched her smiling face, but found nothing but love and trust in her shining blue eyes. She had grown up in the country, he rationalized to himself. She had likely watched her father breed horses all her life, and had, perhaps, even helped with the delivery of some. That would, of course, explain her frank attitude toward the consummation of their marriage. The knowledge rather relieved him. Although he looked forward to initiating his innocent young wife to the joys of the marriage bed, he did not enjoy the thought of frightening her. He smiled down at her, a wry grin on his face. “I’m quite certain our absence would be remarked upon.”

  “You’re probably right,” she said with a resigned little sigh. She looked up at her handsome husband and felt a sudden surge of complete, carefree joy. Playfully, she tapped him on the shoulder, then backed a couple small steps away from him. She clasped her hands innocently behind her back, an impish smile lighting her face. “Well, if we can’t leave yet, I think we should make every effort to enjoy the time we must spend here, shouldn’t we?”

  Trevor looked into her dancing eyes dubiously. He took a step toward her as she continued to back away. Grace held up a warning hand. He stopped. “You’re it,” she gleefully informed him with a jaunty toss of her head.

  A smile lit his face. He caught her joyous mood. “I’m what?”

  “It,” said Grace patiently. She backed two more steps away. A worried look crossed her face, and she took one step back toward him, suddenly remembering that he had never had brothers and sisters to play games with as a child. Staying just out of his reach, she explained:“You see, I just tagged you, and now you must tag me. Then I will be it. But you have to catch me first.” With that, she spun away in a flurry of dove-colored silk skirts. She vanished with astonishing swiftness into the crowd.

  Utterly enchanted, Trevor stared at the spot where he had last seen his bride of only a few hours, his face wreathed in a wide, silly grin. I’m it, he thought, and chuckled to himself.

  Gareth materialized at his side. “Something amusing, Hunt?” He squinted and peered in the same direction as Trevor, but saw only a cross-looking old dowager in a shocking orange turban adorned with a large lime-green feather. He found the sight far more frightening than amusing. He looked back at his friend. “Care to let me in on the joke?”

  Trevor’s eyes scanned the room in clear delight. “I am it,” he informed Gareth gleefully, then set off across the ballroom in search of his irrepressible countess.

  Gareth watched him go and shook his head. Marriage, from what he had seen, had a very real tendency to make fools out of perfectly logical men. He caught sight of the Duke of Blackthorne engaged in reluctant conversation with a very nervous-looking young lady. Mercy Ackerly stood off to the side and watched, scowling. He decided to join them. Sebastian, he knew, wholeheartedly shared his opinion on the subject of marriage.

  Three hours later, Trevor’s amusement had nearly vanished. He’d had no idea—because he had never had cause to consider such a thought—how many places one could find to hide in a crowded ballroom. More than once, certain he had caught Grace, he’d found himself in possession of one of her laughing sisters, whose help in the game Grace had obviously enlisted.

  For the first half hour she kept him busy by dispatching servants to his side, ostensibly to inquire about the various fictitious needs of some of the guests. He’d finally caught on when he glimpsed Grace speaking to a footman across the room, then pointing in his direction. Trevor caught his wife’s eye and glowered good-naturedly at her, then dispatched the footman to have his problems solved by the capable Wilson. When he looked up again, Grace had vanished. Trevor found Wilson himself, and instructed him to order all the servants to ignore the countess’s attempts at diversion. To Wilson’s credit, the man’s expression did not change at the odd command, though the corners of his mouth twitched once or twice. Trevor decided to pretend he hadn’t seen.

  Next, Grace resorted to using their friends and family to intercept and hold his attention, a new relation appearing each time he concluded a conversation and renewed his attempt to search for her. Trevor did not find much success in fending off these interlopers. Short of being rude, he simply could not walk away in the middle of someone else’s speech. After yet another hour passed, he realized that most of the room’s occupants now knew exactly what Grace was up to. Worse, they knew she was besting him.

  Trevor changed his strategy. Each time one of Grace’s saboteurs waylaid him, he launched into conversation on whatever boring subject occurred to him, making the intruder positively yearn to be away from him. This time his unsuspecting audience found themselves held captive. Whenever somebody tried to make an excuse to leave, Trevor would address that person directly, thus making it impossible for them to leave without appearing rude themselves. After another thirty minutes passed, word got around to avoid the groom at all costs. Trevor finally found himself blessedly free of their restrictive company.

  However, the game was old. Taking his bride to bed now loomed foremost in his mind, but he had no idea where she had taken it into her pretty little head to hide. He knew she had not left the ballroom. Grace would never shirk the responsibility of attending to their guests, but exactly where she performed that duty was a mystery. So he decided not to look for her at all. He simply walked to the outer edge of the dance floor, glanced once around the room, then stepped around a column and disappeared.

  Until that very moment, Grace’s plan to evade Trevor had worked. She had kept him in sight, knowing his exact location at all times. But momentarily distracted by a distant cousin of Trevor’s who commented on her gown, she looked away. When she looked back again, he had vanished. And for the first time all evening, Grace knew her husband had the upper hand. A delicious thrill coursed through her. With the knowledge that he likely now knew her precise location, she began looking for him, beginning with the place she had seen him last.

  Trevor watched from his vantage point behind the pillar, waiting patiently as she approached. When she drew even with the column, he slipped quietly around it and came up behind her.

  The hairs on the back of Grace’s neck prickled. She whirled and found herself swept, helplessly laughing, into his arms. “Got you!” Trevor declared triumphantly. He turned and strode purposefully toward the ballroom steps, holding Grace firmly in his arms so that she would not escape again.

  He nudged his way through the crowd, excusing himself as he went, to the great entertainment of everyone they passed. When he reached the wide, shallow steps, he took them two at time, then turned at the top to face the amused crowd. As the music came to a discordant halt and the whispering died down, he spoke.

  “Grace and I would like to thank you for being our guests tonight. Please feel free to stay as long as you wish and enjoy yourselves.” He smiled down at his wife, who beamed back at him happily, then looked again into the ballroom. “We do hope, however, that you will excuse us. Say, ‘Good night, everybody,’ ” he told Grace.

  “Good night, everybody!” She waved obediently; then Trevor turned and they left, amid laughter, applause, and shouts of encouragement.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  My goodness,” said Grace with a breathless laugh as her husband carried her effortlessly down the corridor to the suite that housed the connecting chambers of the Earl and Countess of Huntwick. “Our guests seemed almost happy to see us go.”

  Trevor raised sardonic brows. “I believe they may have expected us to go sooner.”

  “They did? But it’s early yet.” Grace wrinkled her brow in momentary confusion as she thought of the normally late hours the ton kept when in town, then shrugged happily. She nuzzled her face into Trevor’s neck.

  He considered the fact that she had been raised, motherless, by an elder sister who remained a spinster, and realized Grace might not have the best grasp on the concept of a wedding night and a
ll it entailed. At the thought of her innocence, tenderness washed through him, and when they reached the door that opened into her chamber, Trevor easily hoisted her slight weight over to one arm and opened the double doors with a flourish. He carried her inside and gently set her down on her feet.

  She looked around in wonder at the spacious, elegant room, unable to believe that it actually belonged to her simply because she had married this wonderful man. She turned shining eyes on her husband. “It’s beautiful, my lord,” she murmured.

  Acres of pale green Aubusson carpeting covered the floor, making Grace long to kick off her slippers and peel down her stockings, just so she could curl her toes deep into the velvety pile. She ran her fingers across the marble-topped vanity table to her right. Skirted in a sumptuous mint-and-pale-peach stripe, the fabric matched the draperies at the high windows and the coverlet on the large bed that stood in the center of the room. With a little laugh, she ran across the room and leaped onto the bed, rolling across linens fashioned of the softest silk, edged with scalloped cutwork lace.

  Suddenly she remembered she was not alone in the lovely room. She flushed as she sat up and looked shyly at her widely grinning husband. Somewhat abashed at her childish behavior, she wriggled off the enormous bed, then turned to smooth the rumpled covers, allowing her cheeks a moment to cool in the process. She faced him when she felt his hands on her shoulders.

  “I take it you like your chamber, my lady?”

  Impulsively, Grace stood on tiptoe and threw her arms around his neck. “I shall never wish to leave this room,” she declared with a laugh.

  “Oh, but you must, my love,” Trevor said gravely, inclining his head to the right. “That door over there connects this chamber with mine. I’m afraid I’d get rather lonely in there without you.” He moved closer and lifted her chin with his finger, looking down at her in a way that made her heart race. She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his.

  “Can you keep a secret?” he asked. The words were a whisper against her lips, his tone confiding. Grace nodded gravely.

  A light came into his eyes. “I’m rather frightened of the dark.”

  A sudden image of her large, powerful husband peeping from beneath his covers popped into Grace’s head. Stifling a giggle, she looked up at him with mock sympathy, and laid a hand on his cheek. “What is it that scares you, my lord?” Her voice quavered with amusement.

  He pulled her closer still, and slowly ran the tip of his tongue along the crease between her lips. As her knees turned to liquid, he murmured, “Monsters.”

  “My goodness,” Grace said, pulling back. “Monsters!” She opened her eyes wide in feigned shock.

  He nodded. “Great, big, furry ones. With claws.”

  Grace ran a finger down his jawline to softly tap his lower lip. “And where do these horrid monsters stay when it isn’t dark?”

  Trevor drew his head back and gave her a look that plainly said she had insulted his intelligence. “Why, under the bed, of course!”

  She nodded sagely. “Of course,” she returned, with such a grave look that Trevor gave in. With a shout of laughter, he scooped her up under her arms and lifted her over his head, spinning her around and around until she breathlessly begged him to put her down.

  A small sound near the door made them both stop laughing and look around. Trevor set Grace lightly back on her feet. Becky had come quietly into the room to help prepare Grace for bed. The plump maid curtsied, still a bit self-conscious around the earl, not yet used to her new station.

  Trevor took a reluctant step away from Grace, then turned and walked across the room to the connecting door.“After you’ve dressed for bed, my lady, would you care to join me for a drink in my chamber?” She nodded hesitantly; he opened the door and went into the room beyond.

  Grace turned toward Becky with a helpless smile. “Well,” she said, her stomach beginning to feel strangely jumpy. “I suppose those are for me.” She indicated the frothy nightgown and dressing gown laid across a large, overstuffed chair in the near corner.

  She had been looking forward to this night, but after she changed into the new clothing, Grace became certain that some sort of horrible mistake had occurred. The gown that Becky helped her into was positively transparent, and the matching robe didn’t do much to help. She recalled the night he had come to her chamber after she was ill. With a sudden rush of clarity, she realized that the reason the gown was so filmy was that it was a nearly unnecessary garment. Suddenly nervous, she sat stiff and silent at the dressing table, unable even to gossip pleasantly as she usually did while Becky finished brushing her hair. She did not even notice at first when the maid set the brush down and left the room.

  With clarity came logic. Trevor had undressed her that night. It stood to reason he intended to do so again tonight. This time, she was not yet passion-drugged and senseless. Tonight, she would participate willingly. The thought gave her a tiny thrill—until she allowed her thoughts to follow a natural progression. Her eyes widened in the mirror. If she were going to be undressed and in her husband’s bed, wouldn’t he also be unclothed? Her mind skittered away from that certainty.

  After several moments passed, Grace stood. She wiped her damp palms on the sides of her gown and stared with growing trepidation at the door across the room, wishing fervently for her much more serviceable dressing gown, already packed for tomorrow’s early morning trip to the Willows. But she took a deep breath, resolutely squared her shoulders, and marched across the room to knock firmly on the connecting door.

  At her husband’s pleasant, “Come in, my lady,” she opened the door, slipped inside, and quickly closed it behind her, pressing her back against it and clutching the doorknob as though it were her lifeline to safety. She looked slowly around the room. Trevor stood near the fire-place on the other side, reaching up to replace a book he had obviously read to pass the time as he waited for her to appear. To her immediate right stood a table upon which a candle burned. Without thinking, Grace leaned over and blew the candle out. She glanced at Trevor to gauge his reaction and found him facing her. At his questioning look, she nervously stammered, “T-too much light sometimes hurts my eyes, my lord.”

  Trevor looked steadily at his wife, registering the expression on her face. He revised his earlier assessment of her frank attitude toward their wedding night. He began walking toward her, then stopped when he heard her gasp. He followed the direction of her stricken gaze and looked down at himself. He wore his favorite dark blue satin dressing gown trimmed in midnight velvet. Belted loosely at the waist, it showed a good amount of the crisp, curly black hair that covered his upper chest. He watched her flush a deep red and avert her eyes in embarrassment. He sighed with resignation. He would need to go slowly.

  “Grace,” he said softly.

  She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, blushed deeper still, and looked away again.

  “Look at my face, love, only my face, just as I am looking at yours.”

  Hesitantly Grace did as instructed. Trevor looked at her with gentle understanding in his dark green eyes, a look that reassured her nearly as much as his next words. “You are my wife. There is no need, now or ever, for us to have secrets from each other.” He moved closer, took her hand and led her across the room, dousing candles as he went, until only the crackling fire and the two candles beside the bed illuminated the room.

  Grace glanced covertly at those two candles. She wondered if Trevor intended to snuff them as well, then promptly forgot the candles as her gaze skidded to a halt on the enormous bed. It loomed before her like a monster on its raised dais. A long-forgotten memory of something someone had once wickedly told her about married couples and what they did in beds stirred faintly in her mind. She suddenly knew, without a doubt, that she absolutely did not want to get into that bed with her husband; she wasn’t sure she was prepared.

  When Trevor saw where her eyes had riveted, he smiled grimly to himself. He idly wondered if all females inheri
ted an innate sense that told them to beware of finding themselves alone in a room with a man that also happened to contain a bed. “Remember, Grace, I asked you to look at me,” he reminded her.

  She turned obediently toward him. He could see the pulse beating rapidly in her throat. Christ! He had not even touched her yet. He decided to try another approach. “I’ve been thinking about how we got here, Grace.” He kept his voice as deliberately pleasant and unthreatening as possible. “We’ve wanted each other at different times. First, I wanted you when you didn’t want me, then you wanted me when I didn’t want you. We’ve led each other quite the merry little chase, haven’t we?”

  Her face softenened. She smiled and nodded.

  “Now, here we are. You are my wife. I want you with me as much as possible. I want spend my days with you in laughter. And I want to fall asleep, every single night for the rest of my life, with you in my arms and in my bed.” He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her forehead softly. “I think you want that too, Grace. Come to bed with me, darling.”

  Grace nodded. Before she could change her mind, he effortlessly scooped her into his arms and laid her gently against the soft pillows, then stretched out beside her. She lay stiffly silent, but looked at him trustingly. Trevor felt his heart wrench at the bravery displayed by the girl he had married in the face of something she did not understand. He gently smoothed a burnished curl from her cheek, then leaned down and brought his lips to hers.

  She returned his kiss automatically. She felt her nervousness melt away, replaced with that odd sense of longing she always felt with this man, now her husband. Her stomach tightened into a knot of desire, although she had no idea what she wanted from him. With a small whimper, she closed her eyes and leaned into his body.

  Trevor slowly untied the satin ribbons of her dressing gown, then pushed himself up on his elbows to look down into her face. Her eyes flew open as she realized what he planned. “Shhh,” he crooned. “I’m going to take your clothes off now, Grace.”