Blinded by Grace: Book Five of the Cotillion Ball series (Crimson Romance)

by Lower, Becky

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The hours in the sick room fell into a lovely monotony, for Grace anyway. Halwyn was restless, as any able-bodied man would be, but Grace was enjoying every secret minute of solitude with him. If she let her thoughts drift, she could picture this scene happening time and again if they were truly husband and wife. When he slept, which was often because of the morphine, she settled in the chair next to his bed and stared at his face, memorizing every feature, every line, every expression. Pain was evident, even with the medicine, and he moaned softly whenever he tried to turn to one side or the other.

  She indulged in her fantasy that Halwyn’s moans were not of pain, but rather of desire, for her. She could feel her corresponding excitement for him, and allowed her mind to wallow in the picture she was creating. It might be because of the medicine, or their forced confinement, but Halwyn seemed to be paying considerable attention to her body. Her breasts in particular. She was aware some men were drawn to a woman’s breasts, or their backsides, but she had never experienced such a male side of Halwyn’s personality before. Every time his eyes flitted over her bosom, her nipples grew hard under his gaze. She could only imagine what the response would be should he actually touch her. Or taste her flesh. Her moans matched Halwyn’s as she continued with her tortured thoughts. She placed a hand over her mouth, to quiet herself.

  She was playing a dangerous game. When, and if, his memory returned, he would surely hate her for not letting him know the truth about their relationship. She had hoped to gain his love sometime during their year of marriage, but she was also well aware she was currently far from her goal. Halwyn was helping her out of a sticky situation, and doing nothing more for her than he would have done for any of his sisters. In fact, he lumped her into his memory with his twin sisters. He was not even close to being in love with her, despite what his mother believed.

  This was foolishness, and she’d best clear her mind of any story other than the truth. It might further confuse him to tell him what their relationship truly was while he was still so heavily medicated, so she’d give herself a few more days to indulge. But once he began to feel better, and tapered off the pain medicine so his mind wouldn’t be so fuzzy, she’d tell all. She’d have to.

  Charlotte crept into the room on tiptoes, waving to Grace.

  “How’s our patient doing?” she whispered as she ran her hand over Halwyn’s brow.

  “He had a bad night, but took some medicine an hour ago, so he’s sleeping well now.”

  “Sleep is the best thing for him right now.” Charlotte straightened up and glanced at Grace. “How are you holding up?”

  “Let’s go into my room and chat for a moment, shall we?”

  The pair adjourned to the small bedroom next to Halwyn’s, leaving the door ajar.

  “I have the feeling you want to talk about something important. Am I right, Grace?”

  “Yes, ma’am. As soon as Halwyn can think straight, without the medicine clogging his brain, I think I must tell him the truth.”

  “Has his memory returned at all?”

  “No, not yet, and his brain is very fuzzy from the medicine.”

  “Well then, dear, you’d best not to clog things up further. Let him believe what he will until he’s totally off the medicine. Then you can tell him anything you want.” Charlotte reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Grace’s ear. “You’re doing a splendid job of being a nurse to him, and I’m so grateful. All those stairs up and down between here and the kitchen would make my knees ache. I’m glad you’re here to do the running, with your young body. To show my appreciation, I’ve ordered a footbath for you with Epsom salts. The maid should arrive with the water shortly.”

  Tears of gratitude filled Grace’s eyes. “No one has cared about my well-being since my father died, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. I’m so thankful for you.”

  Charlotte hugged her briefly and smoothed her hair. “You are one of my own, dear. We will always care for you. No harm can befall you now, with the strength of the Fitzpatricks behind you.”

  Grace couldn’t contain the trickle of dread shimmying down her spine. She somehow doubted even the Fitzpatick’s reputation could contain the wrath of Simon for long.

  • • •

  Halwyn woke with a start from his tortured sleep. His mind was a haze, filled with images of Grace. Of holding her close as the two had danced, so close her breasts grazed his chest. Of him sliding a hand down her body and cupping one of those luscious breasts, feeling its weight in his palm. Of catching a glimpse of her naked ankle as she changed into her evening attire.

  Surely, these were dreams and not his reality. He would remember such important occasions, head wound or not. Wouldn’t he?

  He rubbed his eyes and took deep breaths, willing his heart to stop racing and his mind to slow down. As his body began to calm, he glanced around the room. He was alone. Where was Grace? The thought of her leaving his side reinforced the images from his dreams. When had he become so dependent on her? To have the day not be complete without seeing her smile? To need to touch her, kiss her? He groaned as, even though his heart had stopped racing, another part of his anatomy began to throb. He wanted to touch far more than Grace’s hand, or give her a gentle kiss on the lips. He only wished he could remember how far they had taken things before his fall. Surely he’d fondled her, hadn’t he? Could his mind be making up the sensation of his hand encircling her breast, making her gasp in pleasure at his touch? This madness had to stop.

  But where was she? Grace hadn’t left his side in days, and he wanted—no, he needed—to see her right now. He yanked the bell off the table near his bed and gave the blasted thing a violent shake.

  He caught wind of her favorite phrase—blast and damn!—and water sloshing. A few seconds later, she appeared at the doorway to his room, hastily wiping her hands on a towel.

  “I’m sorry, Halwyn. I thought you’d sleep longer. What can I get you?”

  He gazed at her. The doorway framed her, creating a lovely picture. Her hair was a bit disheveled, and she must have just woken, since she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes. His gaze wandered down her body, taking in her firm, high bosom which had been in his thoughts as he had woken up, moving on to her tiny waist, her swell of hips, and her legs, which went on for days. His perusal ended at her feet, which were bare. A trail of damp footprints marked her entrance into the room. A fleeting image of a naked ankle crept out from the shadows surrounding his fuzzy brain. Had he seen her nude feet before? Surely he would have remembered the lovely arch which was now on display. He longed to reach out and run his finger over the curve of it. Or to kiss her feet. His wayward thoughts had him momentarily tongue-tied.

  He cleared his throat. “What you can get me is some company. I’m bored. Come sit with me and let’s talk.”

  She smoothed her skirt, and then tried to bring her hair into some semblance of order. “Oh. All right, Halwyn, I’ll sit with you.” She ran her hand over her disheveled hair again as she sat at the edge of the bed, the towel in her lap.

  He reached out and stilled her hand. “Have I ever seen you with your hair down before?”

  “Of course you have. When I played here with your sisters years ago, we all wore our hair down.”

  “But you were much younger then. What about now? Is your hair still curly? I remember ringlets all over your head.”

  Grace inhaled a deep breath. “You remember my ringlets?” she whispered.

  “Yes, and I insist on seeing your curls again. It’s a request from a very ill man, so you can’t possibly refuse me.” He moved to take the pins from her hair, which cascaded in waves of black silk over her shoulders. He ran his hand through her locks. “Soft. Just as the rest of you.” He tugged on her hair to pull her closer. His mouth covered hers just as she opened her mouth to express surprise. His tongue marched through the small opening as if he was a general leading his troops into battle. And what a battle! Their tongues dueled and parried with each ot
her, giving, retreating. He pulled her closer. Her face was above his now, her breasts grazing his chest as she sank over him. Just as he had dreamed. His hands wove into her curls as he explored every inch of her mouth. Finally, he retreated, only to capture her lush lower lip and tease it to even fuller plumpness. She placed a hand on either side of his body and pulled herself up.

  “My goodness, Halwyn. Your nap certainly made you feisty.” She backed off and moved to the chair alongside his bed.

  He grinned at her. “You may say feisty. I say I’m being dutiful to my beloved. Now, tell me, why are you without shoes?”

  She gasped as she pulled her feet under her skirt. “Your mother was kind enough to order a footbath for me. She was afraid all my trips up and down the stairs were taking a toll on my feet.”

  “And are you better now?”

  “Yes, thank you. I should go put my shoes back on now. If you don’t need anything else.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up at her remark. “There is one more thing … ” He reached over and removed the towel from her hands before he took hold of her ankle, bringing one foot up to the top of the bed. “You have been working awfully hard on my behalf. The least I can do is dry your feet for you.” He began by gently rubbing her sole, toes, and ankle with the cloth. After a sharp intake of her breath, she exhaled slowly, in a small hiss of pleasure. He removed the towel and ran his thumb lightly over her instep. “You have a truly lovely arch, Grace.” He brought her clean foot to his mouth and kissed it. Just as he had been dreaming of doing.

  She lowered her foot to the floor slowly and, at his insistence, lifted the other for him to administer to as well.

  “I think my arches are my best feature, and it’s a shame they are almost always covered by my shoes.”

  “Ah, but now I am aware of what’s hidden beneath the shoes, so I can take pleasure in the knowledge of the graceful arch of your foot, which no other man will ever see. But I must disagree. You have other assets much more fine than your feet.”

  She smiled, a truly beautiful smile, tinged with a bit of sadness, he thought, and wondered why. “What other assets do you think are better than my feet?”

  He couldn’t help himself. His gaze fell to her breasts. “Those. They fascinate me.”

  She stood suddenly, as she gasped in surprise. “You shouldn’t say such things, Halwyn.”

  “I apologize. Will you accept the excuse of the medicine loosening my tongue?”

  She stood silently, wringing her hands. He reached out and took hold of one.

  “I would never intentionally say anything to upset you, Grace.”

  She locked her gaze on him. “Yes, I’ll accept your apology. But we must take precautions not to let things get so out of hand again.”

  He broke eye contact and let his gaze roam to her feet again as a wry smile graced his lips. “Then I suggest you put some shoes on. Your feet are very tempting.”

  • • •

  Grace’s world was crumbling around her bit by bit. She had dared pull on a thread and her life began to unravel. Already once in her mere twenty years, her life had turned on its axis when her father died. In her mind, her world was divided into “Life with Father” and “Life after Father.” Now, it was threatening to break into fragments again, into “Life before the Proposal” and “Life after.” She didn’t care for the “after” part at all, but she had no one to blame but herself for her current predicament.

  “How could I have been so stupid?” She whispered to herself as she punched her bed pillow. The feathers had no answer. “I’ve been playing with Halwyn’s emotions as if they were of no consequence. I’m an awful person.” Tears threatened, and she blinked rapidly, willing her eyes to stay dry. Crying was useless at this point. She crawled under the covers, still smelling the scent of Halwyn on her body, every place where he had touched her.

  She could play the “if only” game forever and her situation would stay exactly the same. Because of Simon, she was placed in such close confines with Halwyn. Because of the closeness and his short-term memory loss, he was behaving as a smitten suitor would. And most of all, because of the circumstances, she was loving every second she was spending with him. She pounded her fist into her pillow and flipped over onto her back.

  Despite Charlotte’s encouraging words, this situation was becoming more intolerable by the day. Allowing Halwyn to see her naked feet was bad enough. Allowing him to massage them and kiss her arch was tantamount to torture. She, in her dazed state of sensual bliss caused by his touch, had almost slid into bed with him. What had she been thinking?

  Of course, if she had followed through on the course of action her chaotic mind had taken, and she had lain with Halwyn, she was certain, even with a broken leg, he would have taken advantage of the situation. Most men would not turn a blind eye to such wanton behavior. He admitted an attraction, a fascination even, with her breasts, and she wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on her bare bosom. She covered her breasts with her own hands and tried to imagine they were Halwyn’s. Immediately, dampness developed between her legs, and her body began to ache with need.

  She massaged her breasts as she imagined Halwyn would do, and a small moan escaped from her lips. What would come next? Would he put his mouth on her breast? Cover her nipple and tug on her, teasing the nipple into a hard peak? Already, just the mere thought of him doing so made her nipples bud. She ran her hand over the engorged tips and groaned again. The ache between her legs became stronger. She controlled her mad impulse to leave her own bed and walk down the hall to Halwyn’s.

  What would have come next was anyone’s guess, but the way her body reacted to his mere words led her to believe whatever was involved in the next step would be wonderful; magical. And Halwyn, the delightful, dutiful man he was, would make good on this marriage of convenience if she was at all compromised, even if she pulled away from the relationship.

  But the desire to explore what came next was inhibited by his memory loss. She couldn’t believe he really was infatuated with her. He certainly had been a model of decorum prior to his accident. If she hadn’t initiated everything, from the proposal to their first kiss, they would have remained good friends forever, and her childhood crush on him would remain just a lovely dream.

  Maybe his mother was right, and he would have gotten around to desiring her at some point during their year together, but she doubted it. Wasn’t true love an instantaneous thing? Such had been the case for both Heather and Jasmine, and fighting the inevitable had been pointless. And goodness, their older sister Ginger couldn’t control her love for Joseph, even when his true heritage was revealed. Halwyn hadn’t been immediately smitten with her. He’d had seven years to ask her to marry him, and he hadn’t yet gotten around to it. He was not her life partner. And even if she allowed him to take advantage of her, and he proposed, she would now have to turn him down. Her conscience would let her do nothing else. She didn’t want someone to marry her out of pity or a sense of duty. No, what she wanted was the kind of passion she had seen among her friends and their partners. And she must finally admit her true soul mate wasn’t Halwyn. There had to be someone else meant for her. Someone she had yet to meet. She had to put a stop to this treacherous path she and Halwyn were taking, even if her actions meant she would lose her fortune. It could be no worse than the loss of her heart to Halwyn.

  She’d tell Halwyn in the morning of her duplicity. Then, his fascination for her breasts and her feet would dissolve. The light of desire would fade from his eyes, and they’d be back to friends. If he could even stand the sight of her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Even though Halwyn wasn’t used to inactivity, being forced to lie in bed while Grace took care of his every need was a lovely way to spend his days. This was the third day since he had been released from the hospital. He was now only taking the pain medicine once or twice during the day and at night, so his head was becoming clearer. He still only had vague memories of the past seve
ral weeks, but one thing was certain. He was getting married in a few weeks and he was going to stand up for the ceremony. The doctor had given him clearance to walk around and dropped off crutches yesterday. So he was determined to get up and start walking today, to get his muscle tone back.

  Since he had been confined to his bed, he had been doing everything he could to get Grace to come closer to him. She was wary and maintained her distance, usually taking a seat beside the bed instead of sitting on the counterpane close to him, as he would have preferred. He might be reacting to the medicine, but his nightly dreams consisted of sweaty images of him and Grace together, nude and locked in a passionate embrace. Blurry images raced through his head of her beautifully shaped breasts nestled in the palms of his hands. Had he touched her breasts before? He couldn’t remember, and he couldn’t very well ask such an intimate question. Although he did mention yesterday, in a hazy fog, that he found her breasts fascinating. What insanity.

  True, he had made up reasons for her to hover above him, fluffing the pillows behind his back, or adjusting the lighting so he could read. While she was working over him, he allowed his eyes to feast on those mounds of flesh, tantalizingly mere inches from his face. His breath hitched in his throat as he fantasized about how her breasts would feel in his hands. Yes, the medicine must be responsible for his reaction.

  A noise in the hallway alerted him to the fact Grace was returning with a pot of tea. He moved the chamber pot to the side of the bed and his gaze darted to the doorway of the room. She’d only been gone for ten minutes or so, having removed the dirty water, his shaving mug, and straight edge razor from his morning ablutions, but he was eager to see her again. She hurried into the room with a teapot and cups balanced on a tray, which she placed on a small table. When she stood upright and turned to him with a smile on her face, Halwyn thought the sun had just broken through the clouds.