How to Wake a Sleeping Lady

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How to Wake a Sleeping Lady Page 10

by Wolf, Bree


  Grant’s heart beat wildly in his chest as he rushed down the corridor, his eyes frantically glancing left and right, peering into every corner. Where had she gone? Then footsteps echoed to his ears from up ahead and, a moment later, she stumbled into his path.

  Fortunately for him, Nessa had turned down a small side corridor that led to nowhere in particular, at least nowhere for her to escape. But, of course, she could not remember that.

  Her eyes were wide when she saw him, and tears were streaming down her face. Shock marked her features, and her bottom lip quivered as she stared at him, her feet once again retreating. Away from him. “Leave me alone,” she snapped, pain more than anger ringing in her voice. “You lied to me.” And with that, she spun on her heel and made to escape him.

  But Grant was faster.

  Driven by an all-consuming fear of losing her, he shot forward and grasped her arm. Immediately, Nessa jerked back, but Grant held on, pulling her away from her escape route and into the adjacent room. Only once he’d closed the door to the library behind them did he release her, blocking the door with his body. He would not let her get away. She needed to listen to him first. He had to explain. He had to apologize. He—

  Staring at him, Nessa backed away, her head shaking from side to side. “I should never have come here,” she whispered, panic clear in her voice as she took in her surroundings; unfamiliar to her. Then her hazel eyes, red-rimmed and filled with tears, returned to him, and Grant’s heart twisted painfully in his chest when he saw her distrust of him, the way it dipped into fear as she regarded him. “I should never have come. This was a mistake. I should never have come. I knew I shouldn’t have. I—”

  “Nessa, please let me explain,” Grant begged, starting toward her, but she immediately backed away, her eyes wide. Never in his life had he seen her so fearful, and it frightened him. He heard his mother’s words echo in his mind, and he could not keep himself from wondering how Nessa might have changed since they’d last known each other.

  Forcing himself to remain where he was, Grant looked at her, praying that she would listen. “I meant to tell you. I did. I swear it. But then…” He sighed, searching for the right words to explain how he had felt.

  “But what?” Nessa snapped, her eyes no longer calm, but filled with a fury that Grant remembered only too well. He hadn’t seen it often as Nessa had never been an angry person, but he remembered it; and odd as it was, it put him at ease. “Why did you lie to me?” she demanded, stomping toward him, an accusing finger pointed at his chest. “Why would you bring me here when your wife could—?”

  “You’re my wife!” Grant corrected, feeling himself respond without thought. This was Nessa! His Nessa! And he knew how to talk to her. “You’ve always been my wife, and our marriage is legally binding.”

  Her eyes narrowed before she slowly shook her head. “What did you do? Where is she?”

  Grant sighed. “She is not here. When I learned that you were still alive, I spoke to Mr. Thatcher, my solicitor. He confirmed what I’d suspected, that my second marriage was void now that you had returned.”

  Nessa’s eyes darted around the room as though searching for something. “That is all good and well, but where is she? What did you do? Your mother said…”

  “He is not a beast,” Grant hastened to clarify. “He’s an old friend. I’ve known him all my life and he will ensure that she is well taken care of. I know he will. There was nothing I could do for her, but he…he can protect her. She’ll be safe with him. Believe me, it pained me as well to think of how this affected her, but there was no other way. You belong here. With me.” Raking his hand through his hair, Grant looked at her. “What should I have done? After three years, I find you alive…and…” He swallowed. “I could not have seen this coming. I married Eugenie to—”

  “Eugenie?” Nessa mumbled, and for a reason Grant could not grasp, fresh tears came to her eyes.

  “—to give Milly a mother,” he hastened on, worried that she would lash out at him again. “I didn’t want her to forget you, but she needed someone to be there for her as you would have had you lived.” Gritting his teeth, he stepped toward her. “I could not have known what would happen. If I had, I would never have married her. You need to know that.”

  “But you did marry her,” Nessa mumbled, anger once more replaced by sadness; a sadness so acute it broke Grant’s heart, and yet, it also gave him hope. Would she be this upset if she did not care? “You married her and…and Milly was happy again. You were happy again. You all were.” She shook her head, retreating another step. “I shouldn’t have come back. Your mother was right. It would have been better for all of you if you had never found me.”

  Staring at her, Grant felt his worst fears come to life when he saw the intention to leave in her eyes. Panic swept through him in a tidal wave, and every muscle in his body hardened. “Happy?” he snarled as the emptiness and longing of the past three years broke through. “Happy? No, I was never happy.” Slowly, he advanced on her, watching her retreat until her back was pressed to the tall bookshelf behind her. “I was devastated. People say that time heals all wounds.” He shrugged, his gaze fixed on hers. “Perhaps that is true when you speak of decades. All I know is that I longed for you with the same intensity a week ago as I had the day you disappeared. There was no healing, only pain.”

  Her eyes had widened with his approach, and the moment she’d felt the bookshelf in her back, her gaze had darted past him toward the door, her only means of escape from this room. Still, once again, Grant saw her intention, and when she tried to dart past him, his hands seized her arms, holding her in place. “I cannot let you go,” he said by way of apologizing when she stared up at him in shock.

  “Why did you lie to me?” Nessa demanded when she ceased struggling, realizing that she would not be able to free herself if he did not willingly release her.

  “Why?” Gritting his teeth, Grant swallowed. “Because I was afraid that if I did, you would have refused to come home. I was afraid to lose you all over again and, that, I could not have lived with.” Desperation gripped his body, bringing tears to his eyes, and his hands gripped her arms tighter, desperately holding on. “I know you don’t remember, but can you not see what your loss has done to me? Do you know what it’s like to feel your heart ripped from your chest and be expected to go on without it? To see the rest of your life ahead of you, an empty void and nothing more? Do you know what that’s like?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Mother & Daughter

  His hands were like iron shackles as they held her arms, keeping her pinned to the shelf behind her, his body cutting off every escape. And yet, Nessa no longer wanted to escape. Her gaze held his as she saw tears form in his eyes. His jaw tightened, and she could see his desperate attempt to remain calm as his emotions boiled under the surface. He seemed like a broken man, and she could not fathom how she had not seen it before.

  Although her heart still ached with the revelations of the past moments, Nessa found herself wanting to reach out to him. All she had been concerned about had been her own loss, her own past. Certainly, she had worried what would happen to all of them if she truly was not to remember. However, she had never contemplated the pain her husband had felt at her loss.

  Disbelief clung to her, and her father’s words echoed in her mind. Had Grant truly loved her with such ardent fervor? Did he still? Her? An old spinster with nothing to offer?

  “Please believe me,” he whispered as his hands loosened on her arms, “I did not mean to deceive you. I had every intention of telling you about Eugenie. I did. I swear it.” The pained look in his eyes told her that he was telling the truth. “It was a moment of weakness. Nothing more.”

  Swallowing, Nessa nodded, feeling her anger subside as empathy found its way into her heart. “I do not blame you for remarrying. I understand why you would,” she whispered, and her breath shuddered in her throat when she saw utter relief claim his face.

  His eyes clo
sed, and he suddenly leaned forward, enveloping her in his arms as his head came to rest in the crook of her neck. Overwhelmed, Nessa stood stock still, feeling his warm breath on her skin as his hands slid to her waist, holding her to him as though he never wished to let her go.

  Never had she been this close to anyone—at least not that she remembered—and she found herself completely spellbound by the feel of his body against hers. She could feel his heart thudding in his chest and sense the longing in his heart. He breathed in and out deeply as though at peace, and a part of Nessa wished they could remain like this forever.

  Oddly enough, her own heart had calmed as well, its pace matching that of his as though it had found its old rhythm. Her muscles relaxed and, without thought, she felt her arms rise until they snaked around his neck, returning his embrace.

  As though Grant had been waiting for nothing else but for her to respond, his head rose from her shoulder and his moss-green eyes found hers. For a long moment, he looked at her, and Nessa felt something familiar stir low in her belly. She felt her pulse hitch higher, and as curiosity claimed her, her gaze dropped to his lips.

  It was all the invitation he needed.

  Drawing in a sharp breath, Grant reacted without hesitation. His head swooped down and his mouth claimed hers in a careful but desperate kiss.

  Nessa’s head began to spin at the soft pressure of his lips against hers. She felt his hands tighten on her waist and finally understood the longing he felt. She, too, was overwhelmed by the thousands of new, and yet, strangely familiar sensations that suddenly coursed through her body. Did a part of her remember being held like this by her husband? Feeling his kiss? Or was this a normal response to being kissed by a compelling man? Would she feel like this if he were not her husband but another? A man she had never shared a deeper connection with?

  As her mind began to analyze the situation, Nessa felt herself needing to breathe, to be alone with her thoughts and regain some balance. Too much had happened in the past few moments. Too much for her heart and mind to handle.

  Releasing her hands from their hold around his neck, she pulled away—as far as that was possible with the shelf in her back. Still, her husband seemed to notice the change in her, allowing her the space she needed. Breaking the kiss, he lifted his head, his green eyes back on hers, searching, asking.

  “I need to be alone,” Nessa whispered as she felt her body begin to tremble. “All this is too much. I need…I…”

  “I understand,” he replied before he slowly—reluctantly—stepped back, his hands falling from her sides one by one. “Take all the time and space you need, but I want you to know that I am grateful for receiving this second chance with you. It doesn’t matter how much time you need, I will forever be grateful because the world—my world—is a better place with you in it.” A soft smile came to his lips. “You’re my life, Nessa. You always have been, and that never changed. Not even when I married Eugenie.” He sighed. “It was one of the saddest days of my life because I wanted you, and not her.”

  Tears pooled in her eyes as Nessa stepped around him. Her heart ached in her chest, and she needed to get away. She needed a moment alone. More than a moment. She needed to sort through this chaos in her heart and mind, and she could not do so with him standing before her.

  Fortunately, Nessa’s feet led her into a large drawing room where her eyes spotted one of the terrace doors left ajar. It was like a beacon calling to her and, within moments, Nessa fled the confinement of the house, the home she could not remember, and rushed out into the green oasis opening up before her. The warm sun felt heavenly on her face, and she breathed in deeply, welcoming the fresh air and tantalizing aromas of the gardens. Her feet carried her farther, across the wide lawn to a small grove of trees, clustering in a circle, their shade inviting.

  All but falling against the sturdy trunk of an oak, Nessa sighed, then sank down into the lush grass, her senses calming at the familiarity of her surroundings. The outdoors. The sun. The fresh air. The earthy scent of the ground below her. All reminded her of the abbey.

  Of the only home she could remember.

  Grasping at the comfort it offered, Nessa sighed and closed her eyes as her head fell back, coming to rest against the rough bark of the tree. Her knees rose, and she wrapped her arms around them, holding on tightly as she waited for her heart to calm.

  Breath by breath, her body began to relax, and Nessa finally opened her eyes. A soft smile came to her lips at the sight before her. Indeed, the small grove she had discovered rested on a slight ridge, and from where she sat she had a breathtaking view of the lush gardens as well as the estate, situated in its mist like a pearl in a shell.

  Beautiful, Nessa thought, knowing that she could feel at home in this place if it weren’t for the obstacles that rose before her with every step she took. Would she ever—?

  “Are you all right?”

  At the sound of the soft, small voice dropping down to her ears from above, Nessa jerked her head upward and the back of it collided painfully with the sturdy trunk behind her. Gritting her teeth, she rubbed the throbbing spot, her eyes pitched closed at the sudden pain shooting through her head.

  “I’m sorry,” the small voice came again. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  Blinking her eyes, Nessa pulled back from the tree, then carefully lifted her head, her eyes searching the branches above her.

  To her great surprise, Nessa found a lot more than mere branches. For there, right above her, snuggled into the crown of the oak sat a decent-sized tree house and, upon further inspection, she saw two little legs dangling over the edge of its floor.

  Pushing herself to her feet, Nessa took a step back to get a better view of the tree house’s occupant. Her heart hammered in her chest when her eyes fell on the little girl seated on the simple boards, her light brown hair braided down her back and her hazel eyes—eyes like her own!—looking at her with a frankness only children possessed. Her features were gentle and friendly, and she struck Nessa as a happy child. However, in that very moment, sadness clung to her eyes.

  “Hello,” Nessa whispered, not knowing what else to say for she knew very well who that little girl was.

  “Hello,” Milly replied as her gaze continued to sweep over Nessa, her curiosity not yet sated.

  For a long moment, mother and daughter looked at one another. Nessa felt her head begin to spin yet again, and a deep ache came to her heart, a longing so acute, it stole the breath from her lungs. Oh, please, remember me! Please!

  From whence that longing had come, Nessa could not say for she knew with utter sadness that no memory lingered in her mind of this beautiful child. Her child. Her daughter.

  “You look sad,” Milly observed, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Have you been crying?”

  Swallowing, Nessa brushed a hand over her eyes. “No, I…I was simply looking for a spot to be alone. Everything is quite…overwhelming.”

  Understanding beyond her years shone in Milly’s eyes as she nodded. “I came here to be alone, too.” Her head cocked sideways as though she were trying to decide something. Then she exhaled loudly before turning to look beside her at something Nessa could not see. A moment later, a rope ladder fell from the tree house, its lowest rung dangling not an arm’s length above the ground. “If you like, you can come up.”

  Nessa swallowed, once again blinking back tears. “I’d like that very much,” she whispered, smiling up at her young daughter. Then she slowly set one foot on the rung and began pushing herself upward until her head came above the ground level of the small house.

  Milly scooted sideways, making room for Nessa to climb up and seat herself beside her. “It’s quiet here,” Milly whispered when Nessa had settled down. “And I can see everything from up her but no one can see me.”

  “That’s true,” Nessa replied, glancing at her daughter out of the corner of her eye. “I didn’t even notice you or the house until you spoke to me. It’s a marvelous hiding place. Is it yours?�
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  The hint of a proud smile crossed Milly’s lips. “Father had it built for me.” An amused chuckle flew from her lips that almost felt like a caress to Nessa’s ears. “Grandmother didn’t like it. She said a young lady was not to climb trees.”

  Nessa smiled, carefully turning her head to look at her daughter. “And what did your father say?”

  “He said he would have them add a rope ladder so that I wouldn’t have to climb the tree,” Milly said, a delighted and clearly proud gleam in her eyes. “Grandmother didn’t know what to say to that, but she got all red in the face.” Another giggle spilled from her lips.

  Surprised, Nessa realized that she, too, was smiling. “Your grandmother likes things done proper, doesn’t she?”

  Milly nodded with renewed eagerness. “She’s always serious and never has fun. I don’t think it makes her very happy.”

  “But you’re happy here?” Nessa asked, transfixed by the quick wit of her daughter’s mind. “Here in your tree house?”

  Again, Milly nodded before she looked over at a small telescope that had been mounted to the railing of the tree house. “Grandfather had this put up here,” she whispered as though it were a secret. “In winter, we look at the stars together.”

  Nessa’s eyes narrowed when she detected a conspiratorial gleam in her daughter’s eyes. “And in summer?”

  Milly’s teeth sank into her lower lip as she fought the smile that threatened to stretch across her face. “People are interesting, too.”

  Smiling, Nessa nodded. “I suppose they are. Do you often watch them from up here?”

  “I can’t see the other side of the house,” Milly replied, a hint of disappointment in her voice, “but I can see Grandmother’s room, the back drawing room and the ballroom.”

  “Did you ever sneak out here when a ball was held at Wentford Park?” Nessa asked, seeing the dreamy expression in Milly’s eyes.

  “We’ve never had a ball here,” Milly replied as her head slumped forward, accompanied by a long sigh. “Father is still sad. He thinks I don’t know it, but I do.” Her gaze rose, and Nessa felt her daughter’s watchful eyes come to rest on her face. “We had a small celebration when he married Eugenie, but not a ball.”

 

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