Chapter Twenty-seven
Grace had awoken as early as normal, but hadn’t gone to the stables.
She’d told Tobias the night before that she wouldn’t.
Or rather, she had told Sarah to pass the message on to one of his personal servants that she was unavailable.
It was far too humiliating to speak to him herself after yesterday’s rejection.
She didn’t have much experience with men aside from her husband.
Her life, until she was six and twenty, had been very sheltered.
She’d heard rumours, however, of the life a woman could lead when she was a widow.
For the few short weeks she had been about London she had received offers that would have made her younger self blush.
None of them had interested her, but it had given her a taste of what her life could be, should she choose.
Tobias turning her down was shocking, not just because he was a man who had found her attractive enough to kiss her as if the world was ending, but also because nothing in her life had taught her that men would refuse such an overture made by a woman.
The conclusion she had come to after hours of tossing and turning was that he could not have been serious about his offer of marriage.
It had been some sort of cover for the fact that he was rejecting her.
He was correct in thinking that Sebastian would not have approved of Grace becoming his mistress and she thought that his proposal would appease any guilt he might have in taking her to bed.
It had been an offer made in the heat of the moment, one he would have regretted once his blood had cooled if she had accepted.
It had to be. A duke did not ask the daughter of murderers to be his wife.
Now it was morning and a faint mist was covering the grounds.
It would be hours before breakfast was served and she had nothing to do but wander the house, avoiding Tobias.
That would not be difficult. Aside from mealtimes and the time he spent with her, Tobias was mostly sequestered in his study, rarely joining in with the entertainment put on for his guests.
Another beautiful day was dawning, and yet Grace felt as if a greyness was seeping into the corners of her world, turning everything flat.
Not a passionate reader, Grace had yet to visit the library, but Emily had waxed lyrical about the room, to the point that Grace felt she might as well see it while she was here.
She hoped she might find a few books to read, which would, in turn, help her to stop thinking incessantly about Tobias and his hand splayed against her back, his body flush with hers.
She reached the library and before her thoughts could continue down the path, she pushed open the tall double doors.
Cream tiles shone around the edge of the long rectangular room, the rest of the floor covered with rich green rugs.
Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves ran along the walls with further ones dividing the room into sections.
She walked slowly down the centre, peering into the alcoves.
Several contained deep-cushioned settees and others large square tables designed for work.
On one of the tables, she found a drawing of the gardens at Glanmore Park, so detailed she half-expected the trees to come to life and wave their branches.
A pencil lay on an unfinished area, the artist seemingly stopping in the middle of detailing a flowerbed.
On another was a map of England, spread out with weights holding down the four corners.
She leaned over the table, searching for places she’d heard mentioned.
Her fingers circled London, wondering when she would return there.
Despite yesterday, she was reluctant to leave Glanmore Park.
Her friends were here, her niece was here, and although she would prefer not to admit to his hold over her, Tobias was here too.
The library door opened and someone stepped inside.
Grace straightened. It could be a maid, but they tended to be discreet and footmen had seen her entering.
Heavy footsteps thudded on the thick rug and she knew, without having to check, that this was Tobias.
Palms slick with sweat and with her heart racing, she glanced around, searching for a place to hide, but unless she could shrink and disguise herself on a shelf, she was out of options.
‘Ah,’ said Tobias rounding the stack of books nearest to her. ‘There you are. I have been looking all over.’
When they had parted yesterday, he had been tense and cross and not at all like the man standing in front of her now, whose eyes were full of warmth.
‘Yes,’ she said, for some inexplicable reason.
A slight tug on the corner of his mouth indicated he found her response amusing. ‘Emily is suggesting a game of lawn bowls this afternoon and I have come to ask you if you would do me the honour of being on my team.’
‘I…’ What was this? Hadn’t they fallen out yesterday? This whole encounter should be tense and unpleasant. She did not want to be at odds with him, but she would like some indication that he was as thrown by their interaction at the lake as she was. ‘Yes.’
‘Excellent. I am sure to win in that case. I am told you are very competitive.’
‘I…’ What was he about? His continuing to appear utterly normal was both unnerving and annoying.
‘You?’ He raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘I am very good at lawn bowls.’
His lips tilted up at the corners and her traitorous heart stuttered. ‘I am sure that you are. As it happens, I am particularly proficient too. My brothers will not know what has hit them.’
Somehow they were getting closer, but she wasn’t entirely sure which one of them was moving.
She was no longer pressed up against the table with the map, so it had to be at least partly her and yet she had no recollection of her feet taking her in his direction.
His thumb brushed the back of her hand and she startled.
‘Have you changed your mind?’ she whispered.
‘No,’ he said equally as quietly. ‘Have you?’
‘You cannot mean it.’
Somewhere inside the room, a clock chimed, announcing a change of hour. ‘Why not?’
‘I do not believe you had given any thought to marrying me before yesterday.’
His fingers traced hers and he turned them slightly so that their hands were entwined. ‘I know you do not like it when you are in the wrong, so I will not argue that point with you. However, you must see that it is an eminently sensible thing to do.’
‘Sensible? You will need to explain, because as far as I can see, your suggestion is the opposite.’ There was nothing sensible about how she felt about the man standing in front of her. Infuriated? Yes. Confused? Yes. Intoxicated? Unfortunately, yes.
His eyes were crinkling now, almost like her pique amused him. ‘I find that I cannot stop thinking about you. Even now when you are like an indignant hen, I would like to resume kissing you.’
‘I am not like a hen,’ she said, choosing to focus on that, rather than the kissing.
‘A furious cat then.’
They had moved so close together that only a sliver of air separated them. ‘That is not accurate either.’
‘Very well, here are some other reasons why a union between you and me is a good idea. Firstly, you can talk well under pressure. I cannot.’
‘You are talking perfectly well in this moment.’
‘I am capable of speech.’ His gaze kept dropping to her lips and it took all her restraint not to lean up and press her mouth to his once again.
She didn’t because she wanted to know what else he had to say.
‘However, we both know my words can vanish at inopportune times. Yours, fortunately, do not.’
‘That is not enough to make a marriage successful.’ But it was a good point. They could work well as a partnership, and she could see how she could help him in this regard, but was that really worth giving up her freedom?
‘You would be able to ride Daisy whenever you wished. I would give her to you as a gift if we didn’t marry, but as you know, she cannot be separated from Montagu and so alas being my wife is the only way to keep riding her.
’ He grinned, a quick flash of teeth. ‘I can see from your narrowed eyes this is not enough of an incentive. How about Charlotte? If we were wed, you would be able to live with her all year round. Ah,’ he said softly, the amusement fading from his eyes.
‘I did not mean to tease you about that. I can see it is something that you would like and I do not mean to be cruel.’
‘You do not mean your proposal then?’ She did not know why she kept pressing him on this point.
She had already given him her answer. Marriage was a cage and no matter how much Tobias might want to protect her from that, he could not guarantee that she would not chafe at the restrictions of being a duchess.
As the duke, he would know how many rules he lived by that would be worse for her because she was a woman and the world was naturally harder towards her sex.
‘I do mean it, but I will not use Charlotte as bait; I would not make light of her situation.’ He cocked his head to one side as if considering what else he could offer.
It was interesting that he was not proffering being with him all the time as one of the incentives.
‘Instead, I will try and tempt you with my cook’s fruit cake. ’
Her heart squeezed, because this funny, generous, thoughtful man did not think to list himself as a benefit.
Part of her wanted to point that out, but the other side of her, the side she was trying to protect, didn’t want him to realise just how highly she thought of him.
Besides, it was all very well her getting all these privileges, but he was getting an older woman for his bride, one who it was proven could not have children.
She couldn’t understand, other than having someone to talk for him, what he would get out of the exchange. ‘What do you get in return?’
‘I get you,’ he said, making her sound like a prize very much to be desired, and the rest of the world fell away, leaving only him.
His lips brushed hers, once again, and again. Before he could move away, she gripped his arms and tugged him closer. She could taste his smile in his kiss. Walking her backwards, he pressed her against the bookshelves, but she was too far gone to notice books digging into her spine.
She tore her mouth from his, her voice breathy. ‘This is not an agreement to your proposal.’
‘I would be disappointed if you gave in too easily,’ he said gruffly, but there was the unmistakable sound of laughter threaded through his words and she realised she was smiling too.
‘I still think we would be better as lovers,’ she said against his mouth.
He lifted his head slightly, his lips brushing her cheek, the shell of her ear, the base of her neck. ‘Then I propose a challenge. I will persuade you that my way is right, but I will allow you to try and win me over to your way of thinking.’
‘You will?’ She should be pleased about that, not disappointed, and yet she found that she was. She was a fool.
‘Mm,’ he said, running his lips back up the length of her neck, his stubble sending little shocks across her skin.
‘I will win,’ she said, even as her body trembled.
‘We shall see.’ He straightened, dropping one last kiss on her mouth, before stepping away. ‘I shall look forward to bowls later.’
Shooting her one last grin, he turned and walked away from her, his heavy footsteps sounding on the rug once more. It took her a long time before she was able to walk out of the library and act as if nothing untoward had happened.