Page 68 of Everything But the Earl
Grace nodded and thanked Iain. That gave her three days to figure out what she’d say.
Chapter Eighteen
Owen’s first goalwas making certain that Grace was all right.
He hadn’t thought this through entirely when he’d decided to leave London, but he’d had plenty of time to think along the way. If his fellow Lords were going to send troops to put down a rebellion rather than do anything to solve the cause of the rebellion, well, it was out of his hands. If the members of Parliament were going to treat him as an idealistic fool, then he didn’t need to be there.
But he did need to be with his wife, because two weeks had gone by with no letters at all. In the eight months since he’d left Wales, he’d received a letter every week.
Once he saw her with his own eyes and verified that she was of sound mind and body, he would ask her about her pottery, and GM. Well, maybe not right away, but at dinner, they would discuss it. He spent most of the carriage ride concocting a polite way to bring up the questions he wanted answered.
It seemed a small problem in the scheme of things. She didn’t owe him much, and he’d told her that before he’d returned to London. They intended to live separate lives. If his suspicions were accurate, he was disappointed that she hadn’t told him, but he understood her reasoning. But the truth was that he wanted her to trust him, to care about him the way he was beginning to care about her.
Or, hell, the way he’d come to care for her in the weeks after their wedding. And he didn’t think it was entirely sexual.
The thing was, the letters had changed everything. When he’d first committed to marrying Grace, they hadn’t known each other, and it was easy to agree to live separate lives. But now that they did know each other—body, mind, and spirit, from Owen’s perspective—he wanted to spend time with her. So he’d made plans to spend at least a month in Wales, exploring the intellectual connection they’d developed over their letters and to verify his hunch that the two of them could easily fall in love and have a true marriage.
He made the journey in four days, hastily writing letters to his various friends and colleagues in London and posting them along the way to explain his sudden absence. It was a lot of time in a coach, or on a horse when he got tired of just sitting, and he made his stops as short as possible. The members of his staff who had come along on this trip kept looking at him like he was crazy, but he had this burning need to get to Wales as quickly as possible.
At long last, his carriage rumbled up the drive at Caer Newydd. They should have known to expect him today, and a few staff members were standing in front of the house to receive him.
He alighted from the carriage and was met by Driscoll, the butler. He was conspicuously not greeted by Grace.
“Is the countess home?” Owen asked.
“She is, my lord. She has been a bit unwell, so she declined to step outside today, but you can find her in the parlor.”
“Thank you.”
“I will see to your things.”
Owen didn’t much care about his luggage. Grace was alive, at least, although he wondered what Davis meant byunwell. He wanted to run but held himself back. Instead, he walked straight to the parlor, knowing he probably smelled like horse and was covered in dust from the road. He just needed to set eyes on her as soon as possible.
Grace was in the process of standing when he walked into the parlor. God, she was a sight for sore eyes. She wore a simple muslingown and her hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, although she some hair pinned away from her face. It was clear she was not ready for visitors, but then, he was her husband. And if the staff knew to expect him, she must have, too.
“Owen,” she said.
Something in him melted. He crossed the room and took her into his arms. “Grace. My goodness. I am very glad to see you.”
“And I you.” She let out a heavy sigh and put her arms around him.
They held each other like that for a long time. Owen stroked her hair. He was relieved to find her in one piece, and gratified that she was just as beautiful as he remembered, but the fear that she was still unwell tugged at him. He stepped back so he could look at her face more closely. She was a little pale but did not look sick. “Are you all right?”
“I am fine, my lord.”
“Let us dispense with formalities, Grace. I have been worried for weeks. Your letters always arrive at a dependable interval and I had grown to look forward to them. But when I didn’t receive any letters for two weeks in a row, I grew concerned. And I’ve been wanting to see you for months, if I’m to be honest, but business kept me in London. But that is not important, because you did not write me, and then Driscoll mentioned that you are unwell. What happened?”
“Oh. Yes, I was quite unable to write to you, and I apologize for that. I really should have, but by the time I felt strong enough to write a letter, we got word that you were on your way here so it hardly seemed worth it to… Oh, Owen, I have much to tell you.”
“You were ill?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. I had a bit of a scare. And I am still recovering. But I knew you were coming today, so I put the effort into being ready to greet you. I apologize for my appearance, but the last few weeks have been challenging.”
“Do not trouble yourself on my account. I don’t need to see you in fancy clothing to know how beautiful you are. I admit, I feared the worst, that some disease had claimed you and I would never see you again. You were ill in a manner of speaking? Were you injured?”
“Yes, you could say that. I will explain.”
“No, wait. Let me just look at you for a moment.”
