Page 40 of Married By Twelfth Night
“I didn’t need a reason other than trying to protect my baby sister and her friend. I believed that you hadn’t done it on purpose and feared you’d get a greater punishment than you deserved. Now that I know the truth, I can see why you stole away to the stables after sneaking me dinner.”
“Youwerefollowing me!”
He shrugged, tucking his gloved hands beneath his folded arms. “You were an intriguing little thing even then.”
Was he implying she was now too?
After they collected their first basketful of mistletoe, they agreed to keep searching the orchard for more plants. She wanted to ask what other memories Richard had about their childhood, but she needed to uphold her end of the bargain, and this was the perfect opportunity to do so.
“Ruth,” Grace called to her sister, who was at least a dozen feet ahead of them.
Ruth stopped and turned back to them. “Yes?”
“Mr. Graham did not know that mistletoe was a parasitic plant. Since you’ve read about them, perhaps you could explain to him what that means.”
Richard eyed her. “I thought it was you who was ignorant.”
She discreetly pinched his arm. “Play along,” she whispered.
When they caught up to Ruth, she quietly began explaining how the mistletoe grew. Grace took the opportunity to step ahead and join Bridget, letting Richard and Ruth have time alone together. Despite her confusing feelings, she wouldn’t go back on her word. Helping Richard meant helping Bridget. It was the right thing to do.
A few hours later, they reconvened in the Grahams’ drawing room with their baskets of mistletoe, ribbons, and freshly trimmed pine that the servants had gathered for them.
Bridget launched into her leadership role. “Ruth, you sort the mistletoe into bunches. Grace and Richard, you two layer the baskets with pine. I will start cutting strips of ribbon.”
A footman had set up a few card tables, and Grace followed Richard to the one Bridget had designated for them. They began quietly working, an air of curious tension sitting between them like a third person.
Grace’s eyes settled on Richard’s sideburns cut into an L shape at his cheekbone. Trimmed to perfection, they enhanced his already sculpted face. A face she had almost kissed a few days previously under a table much like this one. How could she think about Ruth when thinking at all seemed useless with Richard so near her? With all he had happening in his life, he had dropped everything to agree to making these silly kissing boughs for his sister. He’d been hiding his good heart from her, but now that she knew it was there, she couldn’t unsee it.
Richard turned, catching her in her shameless stare. “Admiring something?”
She squirmed, picking up a handful of pine needles and shoving them into the nearest basket. “What do you mean?”
“You were staring.”
“Oh, that. I was wondering how you manage to bear all that hubris in that large head of yours.”
His lazy smile made her insides dance. “And I was wondering what is so attractive about my big head that you cannot look away.”
She scoffed, but still her cheeks burned. “What are you talking about?”
His golden brown eyes sparked a warmth inside her. “You were leaning toward me too.”
She straightened, her breathing quickening. Had she really been leaning? There was no need to panic. She could come up with a reasonable explanation. She looked at Ruth carefully sorting the dainty mistletoe on the tea table and Bridget methodically cutting ribbon from the sofa. “You are mistaken. Leaning requires wanting, and I was not . . .” She tried to remember if she had indeed been leaning and couldn’t honestly say she hadn’t been. What was it about him? She cleared her throat. “A little humility from you would be required to hold my attention.” Which was exactly why she had struggled since their carriage ride. He had shown her the real man behind his arrogant facade.
Indeed, he had shown true remorse when she had told him about his neglect toward Bridget, and according to her, he had spent the entire week by his sister’s side. She could hardly believe it. He had put his sister’s emotional well-being before the future of their estate. He had spent over a year chasing ideas to save Belside, and when put on a deadline to marry Ruth by Twelfth Night for the exact solution, he had willingly stepped away from it.
If he had been attractive at all to Grace before, which was quite the understatement, he was exponentially more so now. Such an amount of attraction seemed impossible to achieve, but drat that man, he had done it.
Any man with eyes could make a fortune if they had bet that she had been leaning toward Richard. She had likely been drooling too. The whole thing exasperated her to no end. Why him? Why not anyone else in the entire world?
“You’re much too fun to tease,” he said. “But since you have been so dutiful at helping me get to know Ruth, I must try harder to repent of my ways. What is this humility you speak of, and how might I acquire it?”
She elbowed him and he chuckled.
“I’m being serious. You’ve been telling me for years that I have far too much self-importance. I don’t like the man I used to be before Father died. I was too ignorant of significant matters and of the people I truly valued. I want to improve myself. What do you suggest?”
She pointed a small pine branch at him that was no bigger than her hand. “When did you start listening to me?”
