by Bree Wolf
Nessa blinked, the look in her eyes clearing as she looked up at him, all but searching his face.
“What is it?” Grant asked, surprised by the inquisitive look in her eyes.
Swallowing, Nessa shook her head as though trying to clear her mind. “You…you love me?”
A slow smile spread over Grant’s face. “Does that truly come as a surprise to you? Have I not said so before?”
Her jaw dropped, and once again she shook her head in utter disbelief. “How can you possibly love me? We’ve known each other for a matter of days. That is it. No more. Can anyone ever truly love another in such a short time. You know so little about me, how can you be certain that—?”
Grant’s hands tightened upon hers, gently pulling her closer toward him. “I know,” he said with more conviction than he had ever felt before. “I don’t know how, but I am certain that I love you. I look at you, and I know. I don’t know how to explain it any better. Believe me, it took me by surprise as well. I’ve never felt the way I do now. I never expected to feel this way. Yes, up until the moment I saw you, I probably would have gone along with my mother’s plans to make a favorable match and produce an heir as I am expected to do. It seemed the right thing to do, the normal thing to do.” Grant inhaled a deep breath, feeling the shackles of his privileged life slowly falling away. “I was a fool, and I did not know it. That is not the life I want to have.” He pulled her closer, cherishing that feeling of warmth and contentedness that filled him whenever he looked at her, whenever he touched her, whenever she was near. “I want a life with you. I want days like the one we shared yesterday. I want a family. I want children, and I want to love them the way your father loves you. I never want to look at them as my mother always looked at me. I know that now.” He breathed out deeply, mesmerized by the glow in her hazel eyes. “Marry me, Nessa.”
Her eyes closed before she sank into his arms, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I want to,” she whispered, disbelief in her voice. “I cannot believe I’m saying this, but I want to.” She lifted her head and looked at him. “I want to believe you. I want to…marry you.” She shook her head as though she did not dare believe what was right in front of her. “I want to because…because despite every effort I have undertaken to prevent it, I…” Again, her eyes shone with tears and, yet, the smile that slowly stole onto her face was mesmerizing.
Grant cupped the side of her face, gently skimming his thumb over her cheek. “Is it possible that you, too, have come to love me?”
Nessa closed her eyes, but her smile grew wider. “I’m afraid so,” she mumbled, looking up at him once more. “I did what I could, but…you…” Abruptly, she pulled back. Then her hands flew forward and she shoved him hard in the chest, making him stumble a step backward. “You did this!” Nessa snapped, still smiling, disbelief still in her eyes as she advanced upon him. “I tried not to, but you simply wouldn’t go away.”
Grant laughed. “Are you truly mad at me?”
“Yes!” Nessa exclaimed, her words contradictory to the joyous glow upon her face. “I did not plan for this. I made my peace with my lot in life, and I was happy. I did not—”
“Were you happy? Or merely content?” Grant demanded, lifting his brows in challenge.
Her lips clamped shut as she eyed him pointedly. “It does not matter,” she finally said. “You’ve upended my entire world. A week ago, I thought I knew what I wanted and who I was. My future was clear in front of me, and now?” She shook her head, staring at him as though he had suddenly sprouted another head. “I don’t know what to do. I look at you, and I know that I want—” Again her lips clamped shut, and he could see her hands falling into fists as she fought the many different emotions tugging her in opposite directions.
“I know it is not easy to have one’s life turned upside down, and I’m sorry for it.” Carefully, he moved toward her, then gently placed his hands upon her shoulders. “Still, I am glad for it. Merely imagining never having met you causes me physical pain. I never thought I could feel about anyone the way I feel about you, and I am determined to seize this chance. What will you do? Will we forever run from it? Because I will not go away. I will come here and ask you to marry me every day for the rest of my life if need be.”
Rolling her eyes at him, she laughed. “You are quite a nuisance,” she chided rather affectionately before something thoughtful came to her eyes. “What if I truly did not love you? Would you go away then?”
Grant frowned. “You love me?”
“Oh, no. You answer my question first. Then I’ll answer yours.” With his hands still upon her shoulders, Nessa crossed her arms in front of her, her gaze fixed upon his, demanding he comply.
Grant sighed. “Yes, I would not pursue you if I knew that you truly did not care for me. I would never force myself where I’m not wanted. Never.” He leaned closer, gazing down into her eyes, seeing that warmth grow as she looked back at him. “Yet, I do not believe that to be the case. And quite frankly, I’m mighty tempted to simply snatch you away to Gretna Green. Tonight.”
She gasped in surprise. “You can’t be serious!”
“Believe me, I am. Now you.”
Nessa frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It is your turn to answer my question,” he reminded her with utter delight, a wide grin teasing her into rolling her eyes at him once more. “Do you love me?”
Her eyes closed and she sank her teeth into her lower lip as though willing the words back down, fighting with herself, struggling not to say that which all but demanded to be heard. “Yes,” she finally whispered, her eyes still closed. “Yes, I love you. I don’t know when it happened or how, but somehow you wormed your way into my heart.” She chuckled, then opened her eyes and looked at him. “I always thought of myself as immune to the charms of men. I’ve seen women swoon and faint because of a smile or a look, and I always wondered what made them do so, if it was real or simply pretend.”
With his heart beating wildly in his chest, Grant pulled her closer. “I suppose it can be both. Not every smile is a true smile, not every tear is a true one.” His hands moved from her shoulders, the tips of his fingers trailing along the sides of her neck. “I know what I want,” he whispered, grasping her chin and tilting it upward. “You know what I want. The question remains, what is it that you want?”
A deep smile came to her face, and he felt her hands reach for him, sliding up his chest and then curl into his jacket, pulling him closer. “I want you to stop talking and kiss me.”
Grant smiled. Never had he heard a more welcome demand. “As you wish.”
And then she was in his arms and he was in hers, and words became obsolete. A voice in the back of his mind still whispered that she had yet to give him an answer. However, Grant was now certain what it would be. She might yet need some time to say it, to commit herself to what her heart desired—after all, it had only been a matter of days—but he no longer doubted that she would. After all, she loved him. She truly and honestly did.
Grant’s heart felt ready to burst. His pulse beat fast, and he felt all but invincible. This was where he was meant to be, where she was meant to be. Never had he believed in fate or destiny or some such thing. It had always seemed rather ludicrous to him. Now, however, there was not a single doubt in him.
This was it.
She was the one.
And soon, the world would know.
Chapter Fourteen – An Announcement in the Paper
Agnes woke with a wide smile upon her face, and her thoughts instantly returned to the night before. She could all but feel Grant’s arms around her still, his lips upon hers and his heart beating in tandem with her own. She loved him. Yes, it was true. Despite all her efforts, she had fallen in love with him.
Only a sennight ago, she would have believed such a possibility nothing but romantic nonsense. Only fools fell head over heels in love, did they not? How could this have happened to her? Certainly, she had always liked Lord Wentford. Sh
e had always thought him a kind and decent sort of man with the most dazzling smile and moss-green eyes that had the power to—
Agnes shook her head, trying her best to clear her thoughts and focus. Only it was easier said than done for her wayward thoughts always returned to linger upon Grant.
His moss-green eyes.
His teasing smile.
The way he had held her.
The way he had kissed her.
All but jumping out of bed, Agnes rushed to dress, knowing that allowing her thoughts to continue to run in circles would never bring her closer to a solution. She still felt torn between what her heart desired and what her mind cautioned her to consider. It had only been a week! One week! How could she have come to feel this way in only a week?
“Good morning, my dear,” her father greeted her as she sat down to breakfast. “You seem to have slept remarkably well, judging from the radiant glow upon your cheeks.” He chuckled, his eyes full of mirth and devotion alike. Stirring sugar into his tea, her father looked at her in a bit of a contemplative manner. “Is it safe to say that Lord Wentford’s visit last night was a success?”
Agnes felt heat surge to her cheeks, feeling like a silly girl entering society for the first time. “I think it is not wrong to be…hopeful.”
“Hopeful, you say,” her father remarked, sipping his tea. “Yet, it seems you have not accepted his proposal, have you? I assume he asked you again?”
Agnes sighed, her eyes looking down at the food upon her plate. “He did,” she mumbled, doubting she would be able to eat anything at all. Her stomach was in knots. And yet, something warm and tingling seemed to be fluttering about in there.
“Was that the twelfth time?” her father teased affectionately. “Or the thirteenth time he’s asked you?”
Smiling, Agnes looked up at him. “I believe it was the sixteenth time.”
Her father nodded approvingly. “The man seems quite determined, does he not? You, however, seemed equally determined to make him wait.” His brows rose in question.
Agnes sighed, knowing that she needed to make a decision. And soon, or she would lose her mind. And perhaps him. Indeed, the thought was crippling and devastating and it made her realize that her father had been right. There could not be a worse feeling than the one she would suffer if she did not dare take this leap of faith.
“Have you read the paper yet today?”
Agnes blinked, then turned to look at her father. The joy and mirth she had seen there before were suddenly gone, replaced by a more serious expression. “I have not. Why?”
He drew in a deep breath, then handed her the paper.
Agnes looked down upon the words written there, her eyes sweeping over headlines and moving from paragraph to paragraph until—
Her heart stopped, and she drew in a sharp breath as her eyes found the words her father had no doubt referred to.
It is with great delight that Grant Barrett, Earl of Wentford, and Lady Elizabeth, daughter to the Duke of Hartridge, announce their engagement.
Agnes stared at those few lines for a long moment. At first, she could not help but feel like a fool, yet again, angry at herself for believing his lies. Tears began to prick the backs of her eyes, and she felt that old sense of misery wash over her once more.
However, this initial reaction lasted for no more than a few heartbeats. Then, her thoughts changed. They moved away from the self-doubt that had always hindered her, away from the ready belief that he had betrayed her, to settle upon a suspicion she might not have considered the day before.
“He did not do this,” Agnes whispered before she looked up and met her father’s gaze. “Yesterday, he said…” Her lips clamped shut as she fought to clear her head. “He did not do this. He would not do this to me.”
Her father offered her an approving smile.
Agnes inhaled a deep breath, her gaze returning to the paper again and again. “If it wasn’t him, then…” For a second, she wondered if perhaps Lady Elizabeth had found herself compelled to take matters into her own hands after Grant had failed to respond in the expected way. However, Nessa quickly remember what Grant had told her the night before about Lady Elizabeth and his cousin. “That leaves his mother,” Agnes mumbled, anger once more settling in her bones, but not anger toward herself, but toward another.
“What do you intend to do?” her father asked, his watchful eyes upon her, waiting patiently.
Agnes gritted her teeth. “I’m not certain. Perhaps I should…I should…” She frowned, her gaze once more moving from the paper to her father. “Would it be too forward to visit her?” Indeed, she had never been introduced to the Dowager Countess of Wentford.
Her father chuckled. “Does it matter?”
Agnes smiled at him. “Will you come with me?” she asked him. “Will you come with me into the lion’s den?”
He placed his hand upon hers, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Anytime, my dear. Anytime.”
Agnes smiled. Today was the day. She would finally put her doubts to rest and move forward. Today would be the day that she would finally agree to marry Grant…or say goodbye to him for good.
Surprised at herself, Agnes realized that she did not believe it would be the latter.
Chapter Fifteen – Lies & Truths
Grant was eager to be off and see Nessa again. Yet, he knew he needed to speak to his mother. He needed to make it absolutely clear that he would never, under any circumstances, marry Lady Elizabeth. After all, his heart belonged to Nessa and always would. Grant was certain of that.
As they sat down to breakfast, Grant wondered at the slight tension he detected upon his mother’s face. Usually, she always appeared rather poised and in complete control, few emotions ever playing over her face other than displeasure or disapproval.
“Are you well, Mother?” Grant inquired, adding a lump of sugar to his tea.
His mother nodded. “Quite well.” She smiled at him, but he could not help but think that it seemed a bit forced. “What plans do you have today? I was thinking that we could perhaps invite—”
Footsteps thundered down the hall and, a moment later, the door was flung open and Pierce stormed In. “Is this the help you promised?” he growled at Grant, what seemed to be today’s paper clutched in his right fist. “You speak of family and then you stab me in the back!”
Utterly confused, Grant rose to his feet. “What are you talking about?” He looked from his cousin’s flushed face to the crumpled paper in his hand. “What happened?”
Pierce’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of doubt coming to them. “Do you truly pretend to be ignorant?” he demanded, shaking his fist into Grant’s face. “Why would you encourage me to pursue her and then turn around and claim her for yourself?” His hands trembled, and below the anger that radiated from him, Grant could see deep despair.
Stepping toward Pierce, Grant tried his best to remain calm. “I assure you, I have no knowledge of what you speak. Whatever happened, it was not my doing.” A cold shiver ran down his back, and he glanced over his shoulder at his mother. “Do you know of what he speaks?”
Her mouth opened in shock. “Of course not,” she exclaimed. Yet, the indignation in her voice seemed…forced.
Grant turned back to look upon his cousin. “Please, explain what happened.”
Pierce inhaled a slow breath, trying to calm himself. Then he unclamped the hand still clutching the paper and handed it to Grant. “Here. Read this.” The moment Grant took hold of the paper, Pierce began to pace the length of the breakfast room.
Swallowing, Grant turned his attention to the paper in his hands. “What am I looking for? What do you want me to—?” His heart slammed to a halt when his gaze fell upon a most outrageous proclamation. Instantly, Grant understood how his cousin felt.
It is with great delight that Grant Barrett, Earl of Wentford, and Lady Elizabeth, daughter to the Duke of Hartridge, announce their engagement.
“This is a lie!” His head jerked up and he
stared at his cousin. “You must believe me. This is not true.” Gripping the paper, Grant then dropped it onto the table and spun around to face his mother. “Did you do this?” he demanded, pointing down at the short paragraph threatening to upend all their lives.
Despite the calm that seemed to linger upon his mother’s face, Grant could detect subtle signs that underneath she was as agitated as he was. “I apologize if I was a bit presumptuous,” she said, her voice even and cold, so cold and detached. “However, it was most obvious that a deep attachment was forming between you and Lady Elizabeth. Therefore, I thought it prudent to warn off any other potential suitors.” Her gaze narrowed and she glanced past Grant at her nephew, a man who was family, a man she despised like few others.
Because she despised his mother.
Because of that ludicrous feud between them.
Grant briefly closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath, then he turned to look upon his cousin. “I apologize for what my mother has done. I assure you I had no knowledge of it.” He stepped toward Pierce, praying that his cousin would believe him. “I meant every word I said to you. Lady Elizabeth is a wonderful woman, but she’s not the one for me.” He placed a hand upon Pierce’s shoulder, relieved to see that the furious expression upon his face was lessening. “It is you she cares for. Not me.”
Pierce inhaled a deep breath, his eyes still clouded with regret. “As much as it hurts me to say this, I do not believe it matters at this point.” He glanced at the paper upon the table. “The announcement has been made. You cannot step back now without ruining her.” He bowed his head. “I’m sorry I thought so little of you. You did not deserve it. Only when I opened the paper and I—”
“I completely understand,” Grant assured his cousin. “There is no need to apologize. Believe me, I would have felt the same way. And you’re wrong. It is never too late. Never.”