Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
W hen Grace awoke, daylight was filtering through the heavy curtains of her chambers, casting faint shadows across the carpet. For a moment, she lay wrapped in the warmth of the bed, but unwelcome thoughts began to intrude and, lest she give in to their power, she decided to rise and take a walk. She did not feel ready to face anyone—not yet. Something about the outdoors beckoned to her, a silent call from the cliffs she had glimpsed the day before.
With quiet determination, Grace dressed in a simple gown from her sister, and wrapped herself in a heavy cloak against the morning chill. Most of the household still slept, no doubt exhausted from their harrowing night and the emotions that had accompanied it. The silence gave her a sense of solitude, a small reprieve from facing others just yet.
As she made her way through the castle, her eyes drifted over the interior steeped in an ancient grandeur that spoke of its long and storied past. She passed through the great hall, which was flanked by roaring fires at either end to ward off the autumn draughts. The towering beams overhead, darkened with age, seemed to bow with the weight of centuries, and the tapestries along the walls hung still, reminding her of a similar scene the night before. She walked on, determined to move past the memory.
Now in the grey light of morning, she could see the outlines of crenellated towers and weathered walls. The very stones seemed alive with history, whispering tales of long-past battles and enduring resilience. She could almost imagine archers standing guard upon the walls, their arrows poised to repel marauding knights.
She moved towards the stone wall that bordered the courtyard, drawn by the rhythmic waves against the rocks below. She watched, mesmerized by the sight, as though the sea might provide answers or insight into her future. The waves surged and broke against the cliffs, sending sprays of white foam into the air before retreating once more.
What happens next? The question was omnipresent, because Grace did not feel at all like the same person who had left England just over a week ago.
How could she return to her old life as though nothing had changed? The events of the past days had stirred something within her. Strength, resolve, longing…but also unease. How could she return to the life she had left behind, to the quiet parlours and the staid expectations of Society? Three of her sisters were now married, their futures secured, and she was expected to follow the same path. Yet the thought filled her with a quiet dread. How could she be content again, knowing what she did now? Knowing how much more of life there was to be had?
She could no more transform herself into someone she was not than she could stop the tide that came in below. She would never be the loud, confident woman who charmed a room effortlessly. She was quiet and reflective, but she was also more than that. This journey had shown her a side of herself she had not known existed—courage she had never thought herself capable of, strength she had not believed she possessed.
If it had not been for the strange twist of fate that had left her on Lord Carew’s ship, she might never have known this feeling—that of leaving, of stepping into something greater than the small world she had once inhabited.
For that, she ought to be grateful. And once her heart healed, perhaps she would be. Would Carew feel obligated to offer for her? The thought sent a pang through her chest. She didn’t think she could bear it. To be tied for life out of duty was a heavy burden to bear, both for the one who gave and the one who received. Yet she could not deny the spark of hope that flickered within her. Could there be more between them? Could he, in time, come to feel for her what she could not deny she already felt for him?
Grace knew he cared for her now—his actions had shown as much. He had shown her kindness, even tenderness, but was that enough? Was it any more than he would show a beloved sister? She shook her head, almost laughing bitterly at her own musings. She was no siren to tempt him into wild confessions of unending devotion. Grace knew herself too well to entertain such notions. Still, the question lingered: what came next? Would they simply leave this place, parting as though the events they had shared were merely like a storm passing in the night?
The injustice of it all formed a tight knot in her chest. She had so little control over her future, so little power to shape her own path. It made her want to scream, to rail against the constraints placed upon her by circumstance and Society. Instead, she closed her eyes, the sound of the sea filling her ears as she tried to quiet her thoughts.
“Grace! There you are!” A familiar voice broke through her reflections, and she turned to see Patience approaching, her cheeks pink from exertion. “I have been searching everywhere for you.”
Grace offered a small smile, though her expression betrayed her weariness. “You have found me,” she said simply.
Patience came to stand beside her, leaning against the wall and following Grace’s gaze out to the sea. “You have changed, Grace,” she said after a moment, her tone contemplative, and her gaze all-seeing. “Since you left.”
Grace turned back to the sea, her hands clasping the edge of her cloak. “I feel changed,” she admitted. “I feel…unsettled. It is as though I no longer know who I am.”
“Perhaps that is because you’re becoming who you are meant to be,” Patience suggested, her voice thoughtful. “Change is rarely comfortable, but that does not mean it isn’t right.”
Grace hesitated, her heart thudding as she considered whether to speak the truth that had been weighing on her. “Patience,” she began tentatively, “supposing I feel something—for someone—that I cannot imagine being returned?”
Patience turned to her, her expression suddenly intent. “You speak of Carew.”
Grace’s cheeks flushed, but she nodded. “There is much more to him than he lets people see. He is kind, and brave, and more than I could ever have imagined. Yet I cannot think he could feel the same for me…and the thought of him offering out of obligation…” Her voice faltered.
Patience placed a hand on Grace’s arm, her touch steady and reassuring. “You are more than you believe yourself to be, Grace, and I think he sees that. Whether his feelings are what you hope, I cannot say, but I do not think him the kind of man to offer out of obligation.”
Grace looked down, the waves crashing far below echoing the turmoil within her. “I do not know what I should do,” she confessed. “I feel as though I am standing on the edge of something, but I cannot see where it leads.”
Patience smiled gently. “Sometimes the best thing you can do is take the next step, whatever that may be, however uncomfortable, and trust yourself to find the way.”
Grace nodded slowly, her sister’s words settling over her like the first rays of sunlight breaking through the mist. Perhaps she did not need to have all the answers now. Perhaps it was enough to simply take that first step.
“But in order to do that, I need to be here, not returning to England,” she felt compelled to point out.
Patience laughed. “’Twould be more difficult in this situation, I grant you. Perhaps we can stay a few more days, if invited. I will speak to Ashley, and he can send word to Westwood that you are found and well. Are you coming back inside?”
“Not just yet.”
Patience kissed her on the cheek and then left her.
Grace decided to explore a bit more—there was a whole other side to the estate where the renowned Donnellan horses were no doubt pastured. She’d rather Carew show them to her but she was not ready to go inside. As luck would have it, she ran into Paddy. She had quite forgotten he went from cabin boy to stable boy when on land.
He stopped and made her an awkward bow.
“How is Theo, miss? I would ’ave come to visit, but we aren’t really allowed in the ’ouse except on special occasions.”
“Well, then I shall bring Theo to you. I am certain he would enjoy the stables and his sister Evelina is here now as well. Two of my sisters have come to visit me here and have brought one of the other kittens.”
“I got sisters, too,” he said sympathetically, which made her laugh.
“I will inform the maid who has been caring for the kittens that you have special permission to help with them.”
“Cor, would you, miss? I’ll even share one with Barry.”
“See that you do. That would be an excellent thing.”
He hurried back to his duties and she watched him go with a smile.
After leaving his father’s room, Ronan paused at one of the landings and looked out of the window when a movement caught his eye. There Grace stood, overlooking the cliffs, a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds as if its entire purpose was to shine right on her. Ronan did not need the heavens to point out her angelic qualities. He knew them very well by now, which is why he still hesitated to offer someone like himself to her. He wasn’t quite the devil, but neither was he the honourable man she deserved.
He moved closer to the window, as if drawn to her light, and saw that she was, in fact, conversing with her sister, Patience. Indeed, they were deep in conversation, Patience was as animated as ever, her hands gesturing expressively, while Grace listened with her customary quiet, thoughtful air. The faintest smile played on Grace’s lips, and Ronan found himself lingering over that sight, remembering the feel of her kiss on his lips.
Her family had come to save her from him and scandal, and it was likely they had succeeded. Why then was he now so resentful about it when he should feel relief? Instead, he wanted to be with her without the strain he’d felt about Flynn and Maeve.
’Twas likely they were already preparing to depart, which also led him close to despair. He needed more time to be able to sort through his feelings and hers. With Flynn no longer being a threat, he felt more free to do so, but he also wanted to have time to determine Grace’s own feelings. Was it better to let her go and then return to London after she’d had time away from him to reflect?
Certainly, without fear of ruin or scandal, that would be the honourable thing to do, but now that he’d seen the real Grace Whitford, he was selfishly reluctant to let her go.
Somehow, subconsciously, he had begun moving to where she was, drawn to her. By the time he reached the terrace wall, he barely caught sight of her heading towards the stables. Then he saw Paddy and understood why she’d gone there. Paddy was already turning away by the time Ronan reached her.
Grace turned when she heard him. “My lord! I had not realized you were there.”
“I have just arrived. How are you this morning?” He searched her face for signs of distress. Only a shade of dark purple beneath her eyes hinted that perhaps she had not slept as well as she ought. Doubtless his own reflected something similar as he’d yet to seek his bed.
“I am well, thank you, although I did not sleep for long,” she confessed as though she’d guessed his thoughts. “How is your sister?”
“I believe she is still sleeping. My mother gave her a draught.”
Grace nodded as though that was just what should have happened.
“Would you care to walk a little?”
Her eyes twinkled. “I had thought to look at your famed stables, sir, but upon seeing Paddy, I was reminded your sailors were also some of your stable workers and might not care to see me.”
“They’ve no fear of the sea goddess here.” He tried to hold back a smile and failed. “There will be some horses in the paddock,” he suggested and held out his arm to her.
She took it a bit hesitantly, as if she, too, were not certain what came next.
It had been a while since he had led her in such a formal manner. In fact, it was when they had presented themselves as very different people, two Seasons ago. He found that he very much disliked being formal with her at all. He’d not been himself for some time and not at all like he’d been before Flynn had begun threatening his family. When he thought how very little time he had now to convince her he could be worthy, his chest thumped hard with what must be panic.
Should he speak with Stuart and Patience and convince them to stay a few days? It was what his father—and very likely his mother too—wanted, he thought wryly. Ronan wanted to make sure it was also what he and Grace wanted.
“This is what the rest of Ireland looks like,” he said inadequately, as they stood before a lush green meadow tucked into a valley surrounded by rolling hills.
The pretty silver mare she’d ridden the night before pranced over, demanding attention, and Ronan watched as Grace stroked her soothingly.
“You seem troubled,” Grace said gently, drawing him back to the present. “Is something wrong?”
Ronan glanced at her, startled by her perceptiveness, but quickly recovered. “Not troubled,” he said after a beat, though he realized how unconvincing it sounded. “Merely…reflective.”
Grace tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in mild amusement. “I would not have taken you for the brooding sort, Lord Carew.”
“Nor I, but it appears you bring out the worst in me,” he said, his voice frank, but not unkind.
Grace blinked, caught off guard, as though he’d slapped her. “If that is the case, then perhaps I ought to leave you to seethe in peace.”
Ronan stepped forward before he could think better of it. “On the contrary,” he said, his tone deepening. “You have proven far too adept at unsettling me for me to wish you gone.”
Grace looked at a loss for words. “Unsettling you is a…desired quality?”
The moment hung between them, like a butterfly hovering, uncertain where to land. Ronan could scarcely believe the words had left his mouth, and a flicker of nervousness crept in— nervousness, of all things. It was both absurd and undeniable. “I rather think it is.”
Her cheeks coloured faintly, and she turned back to the mare as though the horse’s mane demanded her full attention.
Clearing his throat, he turned the conversation to safer ground. “My father has expressed a desire to meet you,” he said, his tone returning to something more familiar. “He wishes to thank you properly for what you have done.”
Grace smiled. “That is unnecessary, but I would be honoured to meet him before we leave.”
Ronan nodded, his mind already leaping ahead. “Perhaps I might speak with Major Stuart and Patience. There is no need for such haste in your departure. My parents would appreciate the company, and the castle has been far too quiet of late.”
Grace looked at him for a long moment, as though searching his face for something unspoken. “Only your parents would appreciate the company, my lord?” she asked softly, yet rather boldly.
Ronan’s lips twisted into the faintest of smiles. “I would as well,” he admitted.
“I should very much like to stay longer and see more of Ireland, and…appreciate the company.”
Ronan did not hold back a wide smile. “My father wants to host a large gathering to celebrate, which is something indeed since he rarely leaves his chambers to dine these days. We often join him for meals in his sitting room. So you see, you are doing all of us a favour.”
He could see she was not convinced.
“I do not wish to be fussed over. Ashley was the one who actually disposed of Flynn.”
“But you were the one who rescued Maeve, Grace.” Then he tenderly tucked some stray hair that had escaped her bonnet behind her ear. Her breathing hitched, making his heart rejoice even though he knew he should stop tempting himself.
Her cheeks blushed a charming pink, and the devil in him could not resist a taste of the forbidden fruit. He leaned down and sampled her lips, and there was no doubt it was anything brotherly this time.
Hesitant at first, she learned quickly and kissed him back, winding her arms about his neck. He had to convince himself to step away.
Her expression was distraught.
“Lass, I should not be kissing you.”
“Why not? I am hardly protesting.”
“And you should be. You will not be forced to wed me now, thanks to your family.”
She looked as though he’d slapped her and his heart clenched, yet he knew it was best to say it. “You deserve much better than me, Grace. You would regret the day ere long.”
“Because of your past.”
“Aye, because I have done things that would shame you.”
“I see. And in your future? No, pay me no mind.” She looked down and shook her head. “You should not be made to pay for my dreadful mistake. But please, if you do not want me for your wife, at least have the decency to say so. I know I am not dashing and beautiful like those ladies with whom you are accustomed.”
“Grace, ’tis not that at all. You can have any man you want.” He pleaded with her to understand he was doing this for her own good.
“Then you are just a coward, my lord,” she said, then turned and hurried away. Ronan did not chase after her because she was right—which confirmed she deserved better than him.