"Sir, I took the liberty of readying your carriage when you didn't ask for it about a quarter hour ago," Whit assured as Ewan continued to ready himself for a bout with the English winter weather.
"Thank you, Whit. I just might not kill you for waiting so long in reminding me about the miserable clock," he retorted over his shoulder as he put his tall hat upon his head, smoothing the brim.
"Here you go, sir." Whit handed Ewan his gloves as he walked past. "And, if I may say so, sir, good luck tonight." Ewan grinned at Whit. They had discussed earlier how he would make his intentions known. In fact they had spoken about it a week ago, where Whit had encouraged him to pursue her with all the manners of a gentleman so that Grace would know his intentions were noble and well thought out, not born of a fleeting jealousy or impulsive attraction.
"Thank you, Whit." He glanced at his friend and nodded before heading out into the cold air.
Chapter Nine
The Kringle Ball was a much anticipated and huge annual celebration. Each year it was the last hurrah before the Christmas holiday. The steps leading to the house were lined with gold and green silk, cascading down from the marble pillars and billowing in the cold breeze. Trees were decorated with crystals, silk, and candles, sending warm light into the night air.
When Grace entered into the foyer, she gasped at the hundreds of twinkling candles that lined the hall, reflected by strategically placed mirrors to maximize the romantic light. The musicians played cherished Christmas songs, and Grace inhaled the scent of cedar, pine, and cinnamon. The deep breath Grace took reminded her of Christmas cookies and warm cider on a cold night.
A glance upward revealed tiny crystals chiming in the rafters, tinkling their music softly as the door opened and closed with each arriving guest. The footfalls of each guest were muted on the marbled floors strewn with rose petals, and the subtle scent of rose complimented the other festive fragrances. Everything was beautiful and breathtaking, truly a night for magic if ever there was one.
After she was announced, she squeezed her father's hand and went off to find Rachel. The crowd was thick with feathers and fur. Grace wove about the crush, adoring each festive gown, tall hat, and crimson cravat.
But before she found her friend, Shiply sought Grace out and asked for a dance. The desire to turn him down rose in her throat before she caught herself and obliged him. With a smart bow he promised to come and collect her when the dancing commenced.
She began to walk further into the richly adorned ballroom when she caught a glimpse of Ewan's face. The glimpse was so brief, she wondered if it was simply wishful thinking, but then the two men blocking her view moved out of the way.
Her breath suspended in her chest, and she felt the music fade into the background. He walked with purpose as he entered the room, his eyes intent and searching. He was handsome, painfully handsome, in his dark evening coat with a crisp white shirt and crimson red cravat. Even from a distance, she could see his shining boots and muscular legs.
Thrilled that she could take her time in gazing at him, she lovingly caressed each inch of him with her eyes, memorizing his shape and form. When her perusal reached his face, she saw his eyes had been on her, watching her wanton appraisal of his person.
She felt the heat of his gaze from across the room. Gone was the flawlessly polite gentleman who had benignly spent time with her over the past week, and present was the Ewan she had always loved. A tingling sensation traveled up her fingers and into her chest. She offered him a slight smile. His response was immediate as he winked at her and began striding toward her with robust steps.
The music for the quadrille began at that moment, causing Grace to groan with the knowledge that soon Shiply would be along to collect her for the promised dance. No sooner had Ewan approached and grasped her gloved hand, searing her with his passionate blue gaze, did Shiply arrive and interrupt. "Hello there, Greys."
Shiply bowed slightly before turning to Grace. "I believe this dance was promised to me."
He offered his hand. Reluctantly Grace withdrew her fingers from Ewan's grasp, but he held her fingers, softly caressing them as she pulled them away. A blush rose in Grace's cheeks at the brazen yet private exchange.
"Of course." Grace nodded to Ewan as she left with Shiply.
****
Ewan expelled an exasperated breath. His patience was running short. After the past week where he resisted every urge to behave like… well, himself, he was on thin ice. One dance and then he'd steal her away, he vowed to himself as he watched Grace dance.
"How are you tonight, your grace?" Miss Rachel asked as she came to stand beside Ewan.
"Ahh, Miss Jacobsen. Lovely as usual. I'm afraid my patience is in short supply, but aside from that, I'm quite well, thank you." He had taken to being quite honest with Miss Rachel, as she had in turn been just as honest with him, especially regarding their dual pursuit.
"I can sympathize," she remarked as she watched Shiply dance with Grace.
"Have you made any progress?" he asked, turning to her, hoping to distract himself from the desire to beat Shiply for touching Grace as they danced.
"Some, but not nearly enough. What about you?" she asked him.
"The same, but tonight I will tell her of my intentions." Ewan said confidently as he watched Grace twirl.
"Truly?" she asked as her eyebrows rose, and a tiny grin graced her lips.
"Yes, although I must speak with her father first…" His voice trailed off as he remembered his first task of the night.
"He's over there, speaking with my father, actually." Miss Jacobsen pointed with her fan in the opposite direction of Grace.
"Wonderful. I think I'll go speak with him right now, get it taken care of first." He nodded to Miss Jacobsen and left.
****
Shiply was a delightful partner and executed the dance perfectly, but Grace found herself missing steps as she searched for Ewan. All she wanted was to see Ewan, speak with him, watch the mischief dance in his eyes as he charmed her. As the dance ended, she nodded to Shiply and excused herself. At last, she saw Ewan with her father and another gentleman she didn't recognize.
A moment later, she noticed Rachel heading toward her. "Rachel, how lovely to see you! That hat is perfect with your dress! Aren't you glad you purchased it?" Grace asked as she squeezed her friend's dainty hand.
"Yes, you were right. It is perfect!" The light in Rachel's eyes was brighter than usual.
"What are you so excited about? You're positively glowing." Grace asked, curious as to what had caused her friend so much joy.
"Ah, well, I have heard some amazing news, I'm sure you'll find out later…" Her voice trailed off, and she glanced for just a second at Ewan where he spoke with a man Grace did not recognize.
"Truly?" Grace asked as her stomach became uneasy.
"Yes!" Rachel gushed. "Oh, if you'll excuse me, my father's motioning for me to come to him. I'll find you later!" She gave Grace's hand a quick squeeze and walked elegantly over to where Ewan stood still speaking to the unknown gentleman. When Rachel stopped and gave the man Grace hadn't recognized an affectionate squeeze on the arm, she felt the blood drain from her face.
"No," she whispered. Had she misunderstood everything? Perhaps that was why Ewan had been so well mannered, so unlike himself around Grace; because he was trying to distance himself from her and pursue Rachel. Was that the reason for Rachel's excitement? Was Ewan even now asking Rachel's father for permission to court her — marry her, even? Her heart pounded with fear as she watched her father pat Ewan on the back in what looked like congratulations. Unable to look away, she saw him shake hands with Rachel's father and bow to kiss Rachel's hand.
Grace lifted her hand to her mouth to hide the shock and throbbing in her heart that was clearly displayed on her face. The tears threatened to spill so she began to turn around, but not before she caught Ewan's glance at her direction. At seeing her reaction, he lost his smirk and began to excuse himself. Grace spun o
n her heel and left, all but running from the room.
As she wove around people, politely excusing herself, she willed the tears to stall until she was alone. Reaching the edge of the room, she threw open a door and walked into a lonely hallway, lit by only a few solitary candles. The tears began to fall once she was alone. At the sound of a door opening behind her, she walked faster down the hall, furiously wiping her tears. Ewan burst into the hallway searching for her, followed by Rachel.
"Grace!" Ewan shouted, rushing up to her.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled together the fragments of the wall that remained around her heart. "Ewan," she said coolly, earning a questioning look from him.
"Grace, what is wrong? You've been crying." He reached up to wipe a tear, but she shied away, stepping back from his touch. His expression betrayed his pain as he took a step closer, eliminating the space between them.
"Grace…" he whispered, reaching for her hand, but she pulled it back too, hiding it behind her back. Ewan paused, as if unsure of what to do.
Grace took another a deep breath. "Let me be the first to offer congratulations to the two of you," she said dispassionately, fighting hard to keep at least her pride intact.
"Congratulations?" Rachel asked with a confused furrow in her brow.
"Well, yes…" Grace trailed off, now uncertain.
"For what? If I may ask?" Ewan questioned, clearly confused.
"Well, aren't you… I mean, I saw you speak with Rachel's father…" Grace tried to form the word 'betrothal' but couldn't, it was too painful. Not Ewan, not Rachel. She felt her eyes sting with more tears.
"You thought I was going to marry the Duke of Greys!" Rachel asked, shocked.
"Well, yes… You said you would have some amazing news, and then Ewan spoke with your father…" Grace saw the light return to Ewan's eyes with a teasing glint. He was always so merciless! But as much as it annoyed her, it was a beloved look and she felt more secure, more sure of herself.
Ewan's expression changed from confusion to triumph as he stepped closer to Grace, gazing into her eyes. She saw him prepare to tease her. But she also saw he wasn't doing it to be mean, he was doing it to save her from her pain, her sorrow, however misplaced. How often he had done the same thing without her knowing? In teasing her, how often had he in fact saved her? His eyes gleamed wickedly.
****
Ewan knew what he needed to do. Grace needed to feel herself again, without the pain, insecurity and doubt. The quickest way Ewan knew to accomplish that was to tease her and draw her out, as he had done many times without even realizing it; only now had he pieced it together. So, with the arrogant swagger he knew supremely annoyed her, he sauntered around to where she stood.
"You're jealous!" he whispered, overjoyed at the revelation.
"I most certainly am not!" Grace whispered back, her eyes flashing.
"Oh, but you are, that is why you're here, my dear. If you weren't jealous why did you leave the ballroom, almost knocking down the Dowager Duchess Darley?"
Ewan kept his eyebrows raised as he watched Grace sputter and clench her fists. The sight of her angry made him feel giddy. It was one of his true delights, but it also carried the overwhelming emotion of desire along with it.
"I… did nothing of the sort!" Her hesitation implied a lie.
Grace continued to sputter, and he heard the arrival of yet another person in the darkened hall.
Of course.
The party wouldn't have been complete without the timely interruption of Shiply. He stumbled into the hall and took in the sight of a grinning Miss Jacobsen, a taunting Greys, and a furious Lady Grace. Likely feeling the need to intervene, he stepped closer. Miss Rachel noticed him and brazenly placed her hand on his chest, promptly stopping his advance. Shiply looked down at her with curiosity before a flash of recognition played across his features.
Ewan continued as if nothing had happened. "Yes you did, and yes, you were jealous. You can't lie to me, Grace." He stepped closer so that they were only a few inches apart.
"I'll just be, er…" Rachel stammered.
"Yes, Miss Jacobsen. I trust Lord Shiply can escort you back to the party?" Ewan's gaze didn't leave Grace's.
"Oh, well… Lady Grace?" Shiply asked, completely unsure as to what action to take.
"It's quite all right. Please see Miss Jacobsen to the party. I'll be along shortly." Grace spoke with a slight glance in Shiply's direction to dismiss him, then once again focused on Ewan.
"Lady Grace…" Shiply hesitated, then reached toward her, stopped, and let his hand drop to his side. With a heavy breath, he looked at Ewan, then Grace, then back at Ewan again.
"I see." He spoke softly, disappointment evident in his tone.
"Lord Shiply?" Miss Rachel asked gently, laying her soft-gloved fingers on Shiply's arm. He turned toward her and offered his arm, giving one last glance at Grace.
As they left, Shiply asked the question Ewan knew Miss Rachel had been hoping to hear for quite some time. "Miss Rachel… Jacobsen?"
He looked at her with acute interest as he studied her from the top of her head to her slippered feet, earning a blush from Miss Rachel. "Why, I thought there was something familiar about you! How have you been? How is your family?" His voice faded into the background and Ewan couldn't help but smile. Things had a way of working out, at least he hoped so. Either way, he was about to find out.
"Grace?" Ewan whispered. His gaze roamed over her face, taking in her smooth creamy skin and flashing green eyes that sent a bolt of desire through his entire body.
With a slight blush, Grace looked away and took a step back. "Please, don't."
Her words weren't harsh or scolding like usual, but more of a plea. The nature of the request pierced Ewan's heart.
"Grace," Ewan whispered again, taking another step toward her. His eyes never left her face, willing her to look up at him, to read the sincerity in his voice and displayed in his eyes.
"Ewan…"As she said his name she looked up, tears glistening her eyes and spilling fat drops onto her cheeks. Ewan froze, Grace's tears pierced him, stalling any rational thought but the intense desire to slay whatever caused them. He reached into his suit coat, pulled out a handkerchief, and began to wipe them away, one by one. Grace lifted her hand to take the handkerchief.
"Shhh. No, no. Let me," he crooned as he gently wiped her tears away, then he unthinkingly leaned forward and kissed her cheek, still salty and slightly wet.
****
Grace forgot how to breathe. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest, yet the elation she felt at the same time made her want to soar. Ewan was kissing her. It might only have been her cheek, but his touch was powerful, thrilling her and causing her fingertips to tingle. His warm lips caressed the cool flesh of her cheek, while his nose brushed the edge of her face. His breath swirled as he inhaled and exhaled, mingling with her own labored breath.
Unable to move, Grace stood frozen, except for the slight closing of her eyes as his head descended toward her own.
"Grace," Ewan whispered hoarsely, teasing the sensitive flesh around her temple with his nose and raining more soft kisses along her cheek and onto her jawline.
With a sigh of contentment and disbelief, Grace lifted her chin to allow Ewan better access. He caressed the other side of her neck, trailing gently down her shoulder and then her arm before finally lacing her fingers within his own.
With a squeeze, he held tightly to her hand while his other one masterfully pulled on her hairpins to release her cinnamon and gold mane. Before Grace could react or think to stop him, her hair cascaded around her shoulders releasing the heady scent of her rose and citrus soap. Ewan groaned as his hand picked up a curl and inhaled the scent.
"Even better than I imagined or dreamed," he whispered, resuming his gentle kisses to her jaw and then lower to her neck. Grace couldn't believe her ears. Had he dreamt of her, as she had of him?
"Of me? You've dreamt of me?" Grace whispered, unable to keep
her voice from wavering as her breathing was uneven in response to Ewan's kisses.
Leaning back, Ewan looked into her eyes and caressed her face with the back of his hand.
"Oh yes, Grace," he answered, searching her eyes. "But nothing, not the best of dreams, could ever compare with this." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he pressed his lips softly to hers.
****
Ewan shivered in response to the sensation of Grace's lips caressing his own. Shuddering with desire at her innocent response to his attentions, he struggled to be gentle. The last thing he wanted was to scare her with his intense desire. No, this was Grace, and she deserved the most perfect of kisses. Even if it killed him, he would give them to her, again and again.
The scent of her skin filled his senses, and the rose and citrus fragrance imbedded itself in his mind. Nothing would ever compare to it.
Her lips were soft and plush as she innocently accepted his attentions, not returning them. Trying to curb his frustration at her lack of response, he restrained himself from demanding more of her, choosing to put her needs before his own. A strange concept, that. Gently he raised his hand that had been holding her hand and guided her gloved fingers to his shoulder, never once breaking the seal of their lips.
Once she touched his shoulder, she moved her arm around his neck and drew him closer. She tentatively began to tug at his hair, nearly dissolving Ewan's fragile self-control.
Physically shaking in efforts to control himself, he kissed her harder, teasing her to open her mouth. When she gasped as he ran his tongue along her lower lip, he seized the opportunity and gently caressed her teeth with the tip of his tongue.
With hesitation, Grace began to follow his lead and kissed him back.
Ewan reached his hands around her and pressed the small of her back, guiding her into a closer embrace that left no space between them. Reaching up, he lost himself in the long tresses he had unbound earlier and thrilled at their weight and texture. Each caress of her tongue, and nip at his lips brought Ewan closer to the point of breaking, but with each moment, his resolve seemed to firm further.
Redeeming the Deception of Grace Page 7