Chapter Twenty-one
Grace had stopped crying, so Tobias should drop his hold on her.
They were out in the open and if one member of the house party rounded the corner, then scandal or a marriage were the only two outcomes.
Yet his body was not responding to his mind’s orders.
All his life he had followed rules, been the dignified duke he’d been raised and been expected to be.
It was humbling to discover that underneath all the fine clothes and an Oxford education, his base instincts were those of a Norse invader, who would stop at nothing to protect what was his.
Neither his mind nor his body were ready to face the fact that Grace wasn’t his.
He would deal with that when the blood wasn’t rushing through his veins, urging him to act.
As a child, he’d been bemused when his younger brothers got into fights with one another, not understanding their apparent constant need to push and shove until whichever adult was around would yell at them to stop.
Now he understood. The need to make Grace’s husband pay for what he had done to her was clamouring within him, screeching like a banshee to scorch the earth.
Tobias suspected the finite details of what this lovely, kind, generous woman standing in his arms had experienced were far worse than what she had brushed over in her explanation.
Her late husband’s death was the only thing tempering Tobias’ fury, although that didn’t stop the fantasy of his fist connecting with the stranger’s face.
Grace loosening her hold on his jacket cut through the anger surging through him.
For a moment, he thought she might be about to step back from him and he prepared himself for letting go, even though that went against every instinct.
Instead, her arms slipped around him, her fingers curling around the fabric against his back, briefly brushing his spine.
He hoped she couldn’t hear how that contact made his heart pick up speed.
‘Do you want me to leave?’ Grace asked, his clothing muffling her words.
‘Leave?’
She nodded, her forehead rubbing against his chest in a way that should not be pleasing in the circumstances and yet was most definitely something he could get used to should she want to do it again.
Her hat tickled his chin and he managed to stop himself from pulling it off so he could feel the softness of her hair against him.
‘Do you mean the training ground?’ he asked, feeling as if he had missed something important, while his body had been going back to its most basic of inclinations.
‘Glanmore Park,’ she clarified.
‘Why would I want you to do that?’ He was genuinely confused. It was as if they had suddenly started speaking two very different languages.
‘Because of… because of everything.’
That still made no sense to him. Surely he was giving every indication of a man who did not want her to move from this exact spot, let alone his home.
When he didn’t respond, she said, very quietly, ‘My late husband killed your brother. My parents are awful. I am their daughter, Ichabod’s widow.
’ She sucked in a shuddery breath. ‘I am related to people who made these horrific decisions for greed. My hair is the same colour as my mother’s.
Sometimes, when I catch sight of it in the mirror, I want to cut it all off. ’
‘Dear God, I beg of you not to do that.’ Tobias clamped his lips shut, shocked at his outburst. He had barely admitted to himself how much he liked to see Grace’s hair curl about her neck. ‘You have the same hair colour as Charlotte,’ he tempered. ‘It would be a shame to lose that connection.’
‘True,’ she said. ‘And I am vain. I would not look good bald.’
Tobias was relieved to hear some of Grace’s normal personality creeping back in; he still did not let go. Neither did she.
‘I meant what I said. You are one of us now. It does not matter who your parents are.’
She nodded once more against him, but he still didn’t think he had said enough to convince her.
‘Charlotte has your parents as grandparents and she could not be more loved by any one person in my family. Neither of my parents were what you would call devoted parents, yet each one of my brothers took on the role of father to Charlotte without question.’ His throat was surprisingly tight, as he said things he knew to be true but had never truly considered before.
‘Our birthright does not define us. What we do. Who we are. That is what is important.’
Her arms tightened around him briefly and then she was letting go, stepping back from him and he was left with no choice but to drop his own hold and let her move away from him.
‘You have been very kind,’ she said, wiping her face with the tips of her fingers.
‘Not really,’ he said, because he did not want to go back to a sense of formality with her, not after what had passed between them this morning.
Her laugh was weaker than normal, but still beautiful. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you are terrible at accepting compliments?’
‘No. Never.’
‘Well, you are very bad at it.’ Her smile was tremulous, her skin blotchy and yet, to him, there was no one more lovely.
‘Perhaps if your praise had been a little less limp.’ He pulled a deliberate face of disdain. ‘What man wants to be called kind? It does not suggest he is a splendid fellow, does it?’
‘I see.’ Her ready smile was beginning to make a reappearance, and his heart tripped over itself at the sight. ‘Would you have preferred it if I called you a nonpareil? Or perhaps a Corinthian?’
He stroked his chin, pretending to give it serious consideration. ‘Both of those are preferable, yes. You might also say that I am cutting something of a dash this morning.’
When her gaze flicked over his body, he had to hold himself very still indeed.
‘You were until I ruined your shirt.’ Her fingers reached up as if she was going to touch the material, perhaps to straighten it, but to his disappointment, she let them fall before making contact.
‘I seem to have a habit of ruining your outfits.’
‘It is not a problem.’ He recognised that he was in trouble when he realised he liked that she had rumpled his clothes because she had been clinging to them.
Worse still was that he had no intention of going to get changed due to the fact that it was she who had done the ruining.
He did not want to think too deeply about what that might mean, because he suspected, no, he had been told, more than once, that she had no interest in marrying him.
And anything else was out of the question.
Kissing Grace with no intention of making her his bride would dishonour Sebastian, who had obviously held her in high regard.
It was far better to ignore the evidence his body was trying to show him and to deny, to himself as much as to everyone else, that there was a connection between him and Grace, one he had never experienced with another woman.
He rubbed a hand over his face. This morning had been difficult.
He would have to tell his brothers what Grace had told him, because they needed to know the truth.
He doubted any of them would blame Grace for it, but if they did…
He sighed softly; he would not think of that unless it happened.
Although Grace was smiling, he could see, from the droop of her shoulders, that this morning had taken it out of her.
What she needed was a hearty breakfast and to be in the company of his large, boisterous family and their guests.
A bit of normality would hopefully settle her.
‘Shall we return Daisy to Montagu?’ he said. ‘They have been parted long enough and I do not want him to slip into a fit of the doldrums. I should like to ride him later.’
With anyone else he would not have admitted to what he had done for the stallion, but Grace had seemed to enjoy teasing him about being romantic and so he was glad he had made the confession.
Another sign that, whatever this thing was that he was feeling towards the woman in front of him, he was in over his head.
‘Oh.’ Grace glanced over her shoulder at Daisy, who was still waiting patiently. ‘I had quite forgotten about her.’ She reached up and patted the horse’s flank. ‘It has not been particularly successful, has it?’
On the contrary, the morning had gone very well indeed.
Not only had Grace finally told him everything, most of which Tobias had already suspected, but he thought that the unburdening would come as a great relief to her.
They had also spent uninterrupted time together without his meddlesome family involved.
‘You got used to being around Daisy. You do not seem frightened of her any more. I would say that is a great step. We shall meet tomorrow at the same time for your next lesson.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Do you always demand people do as you say and expect them to fall in with your plans?’
Only when he did not want them to refuse. ‘Should you wish to back out, then all you need to do is send me word.’ He smiled to show her that he was not serious, but he was glad when she did not make any excuses to avoid seeing him the following morning.
The two of them headed towards the stables. Before they left the training ring, she caught his sleeve, her tone serious. ‘Are you sure?’
‘About the riding lessons?’
‘About me staying.’
‘Yes, Grace. I very much want you to stay.’
Her full smile was glorious and Tobias knew he would give almost everything that he had to be privileged enough to see it every day.
‘You are very k… dashing,’ she finished.
‘That was a much better compliment, Grace. Next time, try it without the pause.’