Page 34 of Married By Twelfth Night
The rest of the game passed with a blur. His anger no longer simmered. It had been replaced with a glimmer of fear.
He had nearly kissed her.
Little Gracie May . . . his sister’s best friend . . . his greatest antagonist.
And the worst part?
He was thoroughly sorry he hadn’t.
Chapter 14
It took Grace threedays to recover from the card party before finally deciding she was strong enough to visit Bridget without conjuring up images of her brother under the card table. She might never forget how his light-brown eyes had burned gold when he’d glanced at her mouth, or how his warm breath had tickled her lips. An abundance of feelings had tumbled through her: disappointment, curiosity, fascination. None of them made sense. The primary emotion should be relief and none else. She shook her head to clear it as a footman let her inside Belside manor.
“Miss Graham is in the library, miss.”
“Thank you, Nevell.” She handed him her cloak and made her way to the library.
She glanced toward the closed study door, wondering if Richard was sequestered inside or out with his friends. She hoped it was the latter. She had expressly come in the early afternoon, knowing he was an active personality who usually was out and about on business or errands at this time of day. She did not make it a habit of noticing his schedule, but since she did not care to see him today, she had put more thought into it than usual.
A creak sounded behind her and she jumped.
Good heavens. It was the maid.
She clung to her throat. Was she afraid of Richard now? This sort of behavior was ridiculous. True, she had barely handled seeing him the day after the card party for his short visit. He had said a few words to her, and she had caught a few strange looks as well, but he had spent the majority of the time asking Ruth about her music.
All this time, Grace had not known him to be so enraptured on the subject. A perfect reminder that he cared for her sister and not her. If she had any reason to believe his feelings had shifted to her, that visit had cleared up any misunderstanding.
Even so, when Richard had left that day, she had felt both relieved and disappointed. He stopped by again yesterday with Bridget but, thank the stars, she had been in town with Mother at the mercantile. She had been wise to beg her mother to buy her a new pair of gloves. The time apart had been just what her senses needed to recover from a dreadful Richard Graham hangover. The man was as toxic as any strong drink, and she was determined to stay sober. Their secret arrangement had merely confused her. In less than a month’s time, he would be engaged to her sister, and she would move away to find a suitor of her own.
She pulled the walnut door open and found Bridget on the ladder, tugging a book off a high shelf. Her head turned and her gaze met Grace’s. “Finally, you have come. It has been an age!”
“Three days,” Grace corrected.
Bridget climbed down, tucking her book under her arm. “As I said, an age. I know you were in town yesterday, but you must have a better excuse for not visiting me.”
She had a most valid excuse, but one she intended to keep to herself. “We cannot be together every day,” she said. “What will happen when I move to my aunt’s?”
Bridget tucked her arm in Grace’s. “I don’t worry about that anymore because it is not going to happen.”
Grace met her gaze square in the eyes. “I haven’t convinced my parents yet, but I am determined.”
Bridget led her to a floral sofa in tans and pinks, its high back a similar walnut color as the door and shelves lining the walls. “You cannot lie to me. I have known you much too long.”
“Why would I lie?”
Bridget spread her arm across the back of the sofa, in the very pose her brother often adopted, and Grace had to look away. “See, that look! You do not want to leave, do you?”
Grace sighed. “I have to leave. I want to get married, and I haven’t any suitors here.” She purposefully did not mention how Mr. Craig had called on her the day before yesterday. She was not yet sure of his interest. He seemed the type to prefer conquests to marriage. And she wasn’t desperate enough to consider Mr. Dobson after working so hard to be rid of his attentions.
“How could you say that? My poor brother is exhausting himself chasing after you. I wish you would forgive him and give him a chance.”
“He is hardly chasing me. Besides, he ignored you and your mother in your time of need.” Even as she said it, her ire toward him on that subject had waned considerably.
“We talked about it, you know.” Bridget brought her arms down and set them in her lap. “He told me what you said and apologized. Then he spent the days leading up to the card party doing whatever I wanted him to do. It was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
“The most fun? I thought we had fun regularly.” Grace gave a playful shake of her head.
“You know what I mean. I’ve missed him.”
