Page 31 of The Mistletoe Countess
“Indeed it does.” Mrs. Whitlock squeezed Grace’s hand and offered a smile that somehow held power enough to evoke a great deal of confidence. “You hold to the same faith as I, but even more than that, your Creator holds to you. No matter where you go or what the expectations are, you are not alone. Remember who you are, and you will not only survive, but you will flourish.”
With the flurry of transition in plans and only one day until a wedding, Grace had few opportunities to spend time with Lord Astley more than meals and one turn around the garden with a party of six. He’d remained polite and pleasant enough, keeping his conversation well-honed except for a rather stimulating discussion about their mutual pleasure in readingThe Mystery of Innisworth—he’d liked it as much as her, by all accounts—and an enthralling discussion about Havensbrooke and his desire to restore it. Mrs. Whitlock’s words settled deeper into Grace’s spirit.Love his world and win his heart.
Oh, to win her husband’s heart! Wouldn’t that be a lovely adventure?
Grace was just contemplating those words on her way to the Music Room for a final evening of conversations and games, when someone grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shadows of the Mahogany Room. Strong arms wrapped around her to keep her from stumbling, and the sudden scent of amber hinted of the identity of her assailant.
“I apologize for startling you.” Lord Astley’s deep voice pearled a delicious warmth around her as inviting as his scent. “But it is nearly impossible to find some privacy in this house, and I mean to speak with you before tomorrow.”
She looked up from the cocoon of his arms, his face half hidden in shadow. “Our sudden transfer of affections for one another has caused quite a stir.”
“Yes, that.” His grin tipped. “I’m afraid it was Blake’s idea to circum-vent a scandal.”
“I doubt anyone who really knows Lillias or me believes it.” She shook her head, slipping back a step from him. “The very notion that you would choose me over Lillias is beyond imagination, Lord Astley, and I am a great proponent of imagination.”
“Frederick,” his voice swooped low in a tingle-down-her-neck sort of way. Oh, was this marvelous response attraction? She liked it a great deal. Very magical. “In private you may call me Frederick.”
Frederick? It sounded lovely in her head. She worked the syllables over her tongue as amber shrouded her in a tantalizing hue. “Frederick…is a very nice name.”
“I believe Grace is nicer.” His gaze softened, watching her in a most curious way. What was he thinking? Did he find her pretty doused in moonlight? It probably gave her hair a much less fiery glow.
“You don’t seem quite so aloof when we are alone.” She swallowed against the sudden knot in her throat at his nearness. “Not that we’ve been alone a great deal, but the few times we have, you’ve been more…approachable.”
“I want you to feel as though you may always approach me.”
The quiet room paired with his nearness left her uncharacteristically speechless. She was marrying him in the morning. Surely she could usher up something to say, especially since he was encouraging her freedom to speak and all of that. Her throat tightened around another whiff of amber.
“Mrs. Whitlock said that you’ve been poring over architecture books in your leisure hours the past two days.”
“Oh yes! In one of our earlier conversations you had mentioned that you’d welcome my help with Havensbrooke’s improvements.”
“Indeed I would.” He studied her, his face unreadable in the dark, but then he wrapped his hand around hers and led her to a nearby couch, settling beside her. “My grandmother was an integral part of the estate business with my grandfather.” He had positioned himself so that the firelight played across his strong, angled features and his eyes glowed amber gold. “I should like a similar partnership between us. Something, if you’ll forgive me, your sister would not have offered, I don’t believe. But I hope, perhaps, we can find such an alliance.”
Was he complimenting her? Even over Lillias? No one had ever done that except her grandfather. She’d flattered herself that she was her grandfather’s favorite, if favorites were to be had, but he was a bit of a trouble-maker too. “I find the entire thought of reworking a house or designing gardens enthralling, like an adventure of sorts. A puzzle to be solved, you know? There are quite a few innovations related to hydraulic-powered fountains. Have you heard of them?”
A shock of a laugh burst from him. “You do fix yourself to something quite passionately, don’t you?”
She looked down at her lap, fidgeting with her gloves as a swell of heat rose up her neck. “Another vice to add to the list, I’m afraid.”
“Or virtue?”
Yes, he did keep growing handsomer, especially when he spoke sweetly. Amazing how kind words could impact one’s appearance. “Please hold to that interpretation as long as you can. Then perhaps I won’t become such a nuisance.”
He chuckled, a warm sound that awakened wonderful tingles across her shoulders. “I can be rather gruff at times, and Havensbrooke hasn’t afforded many happy memories for me, I’m afraid, but I’ll endeavor not to bring such shadows into your life, if I can.”
She studied his profile. He carried a heaviness she could almost see. She had the greatest urge to cover his hand with her own. It waited on the cushion between them. Was it proper for a fiancée to take such liberties? She had no idea! She sighed. This attraction and marriage business was mentally taxing. “I can become cross when I’m stuck indoors for too long.”
His grin crooked. “Is that so?”
She traced a finger along the cushion nearest his hand, trying to work up the courage to touch him. He had such nice hands. Strong with long fingers. “My father used to call me his fairy child because I was drawn to nature like a creature of the forest.” Her attention came back to his face, searching his unreadable expression. “But I will try my best to learn what I must for Havensbrooke…and for you. I do so want you to like me for more than my money.”
His smile flashed for a second before he quelled it. “And I should hope you’ll like me for more than my title.”
“I don’t know a great deal about titles, so you’re already at an advantage.”
He turned toward her, close, studying her face with such intensity she thought…maybe…he’d kiss her again. If she was prepared this time, she’d do a much better job of responding in kind. She’d imagined a second chance over and over and felt certain she’d sorted out where her hands should go.
“Grace.” Her name radiated across the inches between them, somehow touching her pulse. How had her simple name suddenly taken on feeling? “I want this marriage to be more than an exchange of money and titles. We’ve both been thrust into positions we were never meant to fill, and I don’t take your choice lightly.”
