***
After dinner that evening, Grace led Cat into a sitting room where coffee and dessert was brought out for them to enjoy.
“That dinner was absolutely delicious,” Cat said as she slumped in her chair in a very unprincess-like movement. “I don’t think I can eat another bite.”
“Not even some of this Apple Charlotte? It’s one of my favorite desserts and one of my chef’s specialties.”
Cat sighed. “Well, if you’re going to twist my arm about it, I’ll have a piece.”
Grace chuckled as she walked over to the table and poured Cat some coffee to go with the sweet dessert. A flash of light from the window distracted her and she walked over to view the storm.
The rain held a steady tap, tap, tap against the windows and the skies churned with thunder and the occasional bolt of lightning. Grace had taken up photography as a hobby years ago, and itched to take some shots of the angry storm. It was easy to hide behind a camera. Truthfully, it was easy to hide anywhere, if you put your mind to it.
“You seem a hundred years away,” Cat said, and Grace jumped a little.
Caught in her own thoughts, Grace blushed and said, “I’m sorry. I think I was a hundred years away. Let me get you some coffee.”
“Why don’t I get it? It’s the least I can do for invading your home.”
This building had never been a home to her, but she didn’t correct Cat. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that offer.”
As Grace sat down on the couch Cat had just vacated, she thought it might just be time to confess all. How do you mention something this? How do you even bring it up? Even after years with Daniel and one year without him, she still did not know.
“Here you go,” Cat said as she placed a plate of dessert and a delicate cup of coffee in front of her.
“Thanks, Cat,” Grace said as she delved into the dessert first. She had rarely been allowed dessert in the past, and was more than making up for it now.
“No, thank you, Grace,” Cat said as she sat down with her own dessert and coffee. After a few minutes of silent eating and sipping, Cat tentatively said, “I don’t want to pry, Grace.”
The hairs on the back of Grace’s neck stood up as she put down her plate, her appetite gone. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, I lied. I do want to pry.” Cat took Grace’s hand. “How are you really feeling?”
“Relieved,” Grace said before she could think of a more appropriate answer. When Cat’s hand tightened on hers, she considered covering up her comment with another lie but decided against it. She needed a friend.
“My husband was a kind man but a cruel husband,” Grace said. “Everyone, including myself, were charmed by the first but only I suffered the second.”
“Oh, Grace. How cruel?"
"Physically, emotionally, verbally. Even sexually." Grace felt relief for saying it out loud. She'd only admitted the abuse to her therapist, but no one else. Other people had known, but she had never spoken about it to anyone before therapy.
"I'm so sorry. I thought you might have been unhappy, but I had no idea.”
“No one did. He made sure of it. I made sure of it,” she admitted.
“I’m sorry you suffered alone. I should have been a better friend to you.”
“If I’d been a better friend to myself, I would have ended it long ago. I wasn’t strong enough then. Truthfully, I don’t know that I would have ever ended it.” It was something that still haunted her to this day. Would she have ever left him? She just did not know, and now would never find out.
Cat squeezed her hand again. “You don’t have to tell me any details if you’d rather not. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”
“Thank you,” Grace said with a small smile, though she felt sick with worry about what Cat really thought of her. Few really understood why a woman stayed in an abusive relationship, unless they had suffered it themselves.
“Let’s leave the subject for now, all right?” Grace said and Cat nodded. “I know you probably have questions. I still have plenty myself, but save them for another day. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company.”
“All right,” Cat said and squeezed their joined hands one more time before letting go and turning back to her dessert. “Shall I distract you with some news of my own?”
“Please do,” Grace said and reached for her coffee. Her hands were steady, which she had not expected after their brief conversation. Grace felt something tight within her begin to slowly unwind.
“My mother is forcing me to marry.”
“What?”
“Well, technically, I only need to get engaged.”
“Tell me,” Grace said.
As Cat started telling Grace all about the queen’s ‘request’, Grace fell into the moment and the hours slipped by in laughter and discussions of potential suitors.
Chapter 5
Marcello arrived at Nithercott Hall much later than he had expected. A steady torrent of rain the last few days had made some roads muddy, others flooded, and several unpassable. Due to the number of detours he and his driver’d had to make, it was almost midnight.
He had messaged Cat as his delays had grown, but she had insisted that he still come rather than trying to find a hotel or inn for the night. When the car finally pulled to a stop in front of the house, he let out a sigh of relief.
While the driver went to get the luggage - only one small bag as Marcello always traveled light - Marcello ran to the door and started knocking. When no answer came, and with no awning to protect him from the deluge, Marcello simply tried the door handle. To his astonishment, it worked.
Who would leave their front doors unlocked in this day and age? he wondered, as the door creaked open. When he saw a figure on the dark staircase in front of him, he halted in the doorway and his body tensed as it always did when presented with the unknown. When the figure stepped into the dim light of the foyer, his breath caught as thunder and lightning crashed behind him.
She was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, and terribly fragile as she clutched her full-length robe at the base of her long, slim throat. Marcello had a desperate urge to kiss her there.
Her long, golden hair was wound in a braid that hung over one shoulder, and a pair of reading glasses were pinned to her like a headband. Her crisp, blue eyes were wide and her full, pink lips were parted in a gasp.
A photograph had not done her justice.
“Lady Grace Raynott-Nithercott?” Marcello asked, his voice husky and unused.
“Ye-Yes,” she stuttered after a few moments. “Prince Marcello?”
“Please,” he said as he ambled inside and stretched out a hand in greeting. “Just call me ‘Marcello’.” When her soft, warm hand was placed in his, he lifted it and brushed his lips against it. When she shuddered, he cursed inwardly.
“I do apologize,” he said as he let go of her hand. “I’ve just arrived dripping wet and now I’m passing the chill of the night along to you as well. Is there another entrance we should use?”
“No,” she said with furrowed brows. “No, don’t be silly. Please come inside. There’s a fire lit in the parlor. Or would you rather just go to your room?”
Her hand let go of its fierce grip on her robe, revealing a patch of pale, creamy skin. He could just make out the gentle curve of her collarbone. “Is Catharine still awake?”
“I’m not sure. She went to her room, but I don’t know if she managed to stay awake.”
Marcello smiled. “Knowing my sister as I do, she’s probably asleep.”
Grace smiled softly and Marcello felt his stomach give a little flip. “I’d have to agree with you there, but I can ask a maid to confirm,” she said.
He didn’t want to call it a night quite yet, not when there was a chance to spend some time alone with her. “Then why don’t I wait in the parlor while you do?”
“Of course. May I get you anything? Something warm to drink, perhaps?”<
br />
“That would be great, if you’ll join me.
“Join you?”
He bit back a smile at the flummoxed look on her face. “Yes, if you don’t mind giving me a little company before I turn in.”
“Oh, I, well, of course not. What would you like to drink?”
“Surprise me.”
“Surprise you?”
“Yes, with anything you like.”
As a butler strode up, she said, “All right. I’ll just be a few minutes.” She began to give instructions to the butler and Marcello’s driver before she started walking away, and he had a very enjoyable view of slim hips shifting slightly under her robe. Yes, photographs did not do that woman justice.
***
Dazzled. That’s what Grace was. Absolutely dazzled. She had not been dazzled by a man since she had first met Daniel, but even that meeting had been nothing like this.
When she saw a strange man standing in her doorway in the dark of night, the first thing she had felt had been fear. However, the next moment, when the lightning had illuminated his tanned face and dark blond hair, she had thought him an avenging angel sent to help her.
She wasn’t sure where the feeling had come from, or why it had come, but she had not been scared of him. Was she wary of him? Yes, but she was wary of all men since Daniel.
As she strolled into the kitchen, she pondered what to bring him. A hot toddy? Decaf coffee or tea? With a smile on her face, she decided what to make, and this one she would make herself.
A few minutes later, she strode into the parlor with a small tray loaded with two mugs and a few sandwiches, just in case he was hungry.
“Your driver’s settled in one of the spare rooms downstairs,” she said as she strode towards a table.
“Thanks for taking care of him. Here, let me help you with that,” Marcello said, and put down a towel he had been using to dry his hair to take the tray from her. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble at all, I assure you,” she said in her best hostess voice. “Your driver’s being served dinner, too. I can have something else brought up for you, if you’d rather.”
“No, please. This is more than enough.” As he eyed the beverage, he asked with a bemused smile, “What is this?”
“Hot chocolate,” she said with a bright smile. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything stronger, but then you did say to bring anything that I like, and I quite like hot chocolate.” She was babbling but she couldn't seem to help herself. “I hope you don’t mind the extra whipped cream,” she said and then, to give her hands something to do, she picked up her own mug and sat near the fire.
Marcello came to stand in front of the tall fireplace and leaned against it, holding his own mug in one hand. “I don’t mind whipped cream at all, Lady Grace,” he said with a joking smile.
Ignoring the innuendo in his statement, she said, “Please, just call me ‘Grace’.”
“Well, thank you for the lovely welcome, Grace.”
“Of course,” she said and then took a nervous sip. When some whipped cream lingered on her lips, she licked it away.
“You missed a spot,” Marcello said and she looked up into dark eyes that entranced her. Though she was not afraid of him, she was afraid of how those eyes were making her feel at that moment.
He stepped closer and her body froze along with her breath. She knew the reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Marcello, as he paused briefly then continued forward. His thumb reached for the corner of her mouth and brushed softly against it. He had barely touched her and her heart was pounding.
No man had touched her like that since Daniel. If she were being honest with herself, no man, not even Daniel, had touched her with such softness and gentleness. She wasn’t ready for it.
Before she could push him away, he stepped back and licked his thumb clean of the whipped cream. “It’s very good hot chocolate,” he said in a voice deeper than the one he had greeted her with.
Her free hand unconsciously went to hold her robe closed again at her throat. “Thank you,” she said softly. There was no reason to be nervous, she reminded herself, no reason to be afraid. She cleared her throat and spoke louder. “It’s my special recipe, or I should say my family’s recipe.”
“Did you make this yourself?” he asked, surprise evident in his tone.
“Yes, I did. I always make the hot chocolate myself.”
“Well, I like it very much. I hope you’ll make it for me again while I’m here.”
“I’d be happy to.” Changing the subject, she said, “I checked with the maid. Catharine was asleep but asked the maid to wake her when you came, so she should be down shortly.”
“I’m here,” Cat said as she shuffled into the room and yawned. “Why couldn’t you have come at a decent hour, Marcello?”
“Why couldn’t the rain stop in England? Some questions we just don’t have answers to,” he said after he put down his drink and walked over to her. He gave her a quick kiss on each cheek and then hugged her.
Cat squealed and jumped back. “You’re soaking wet, Marcello. Did you have to hug me?”
“No, I didn’t have to, but the chance to torment you was a little was too good to pass up,” he said with a broad smile. Grace noted how much love was evident even in the midst of sibling rivalry. She also noted what a lovely smile he had.
“And to think I was glad to see you,” Cat said as she took a seat next to Grace on the couch.
Marcello chuckled and the sound seemed to reverberate through Grace. She was feeling nervous and uncomfortable, and she did not like those feelings at all. They reminded her too much of times past.
“I think I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Grace said as she put down her drink and stood up. “Just let me or the staff know if either of you need anything.”
“You don’t need to hurry out on our account,” Cat said.
Grace just shook her head and gave Cat a small smile. “It’s nothing to do with you. I’m just exhausted, that’s all. Good night,” she said and hurried out before either of them could stop her.
When she got to her room a few minutes later, she closed the door behind her and let out a long sigh. Why did she feel so unsure and out of sorts? He was just a man, and he was not a man like Daniel.
You don’t know that for sure, a little voice inside her said. Hadn’t Daniel been kind and sweet to you in the beginning, too?
Grace shook her head and walked towards the bed. Daniel was gone. Dead and gone. He could not hurt her anymore unless she let him, and she was not going to let him. Not every man is like Daniel, she reminded herself, just as her therapist did from time to time. And this was Cat’s brother; Cat would never have suggested Marcello stay in her house if she thought he was that sort of man, particularly after their conversation last night.
Grace slipped off her robe and laid it across a chair. As she walked to the bed, she removed her reading glasses and set them atop the book she had been reading when Marcello had arrived. After she slid under the warm covers, she curled into herself, as she had become prone to do. What was once a defense mechanism against Daniel had now become habit.
The day’s exhaustion overtook her, even while her thoughts were filled with a tall, slim man with dark blond hair and her confusing reaction to him. Tomorrow, she thought as sleep came; tomorrow she would figure it all out.
Chapter 6
Grace woke the next morning almost as exhausted as she had felt going to sleep. She had slept some, but her nightmares had woken her twice and thoughts of her guests had made any more sleep elusive.
She was mildly grateful that her nightmares had been tame this time. Some nights she woke screaming bloody murder and terrified the servants who rushed in to calm her. A screaming nightmare certainly would not do with royal guests in the house.
As she remembered Marcello and Catharine, she shot up and glanced at the clock, then sighed in relief. It was barely five in the morning, so she had plenty of ti
me to see to things before breakfast was served.
She stepped out of bed and walked to the window, rubbing her arms for warmth; the fire had died sometime during the night. As she drew aside the curtains, she saw the dawn breaking through. The night’s storm had finally passed, leaving a bright, clear day in its wake.
Deciding that an hour or so working in the gardens would be perfect exercise for her, she dressed in old jeans and boots, and a simple t-shirt that covered her to her elbows. She grabbed a ridiculously large straw hat that made her feel silly but happy, and headed out.
Marcello & Grace (Royals of Valleria #2) Page 4