Page 57 of Claimed By the Duke of Ice

Beside her husband, Aaron cleared his throat. “I shall give the two of you some privacy,” he stated, meeting Grace’s eyes. “Unless you prefer not to have it.”

Love and appreciation welled up in Grace as she smiled softly at her father and gave him a gentle nod.

“It’s all right, Papa,” she whispered, still not fully able to find her voice. Aaron gave her a solid nod then turned his gaze watchfully toward Nathaniel before he disappeared out of the doorway.

“Grace, I am so sorry,” Nathaniel said emphatically as he walked over to her. “Thank God you are all right.”

His arms stretched out toward her, and Grace felt the longing to go into them take over her. She had missed his arms, his touch, so desperately. But now that he was actually in front of her, she felt wary of his embrace. Her heart had ached for days over the thought of losing him, and the last thing she wanted was to give hope to something that was only going to hurt her again.

But when she backed away from him, Nathaniel flinched. And somehow, that hurt her more. She stared back at him pleadingly, unsure of what to do.

“You do not want me here,” he stated, his tone full of pain.

“That is not so,” Grace replied quickly, still unsure if this moment was real. “But something is not right between us, Your Grace. In fact, something must be incredibly wrong for you to leave me the way you did.”

“Yes,” Nathaniel agreed, taking another step toward her. “And the fault is completely my own. But I promise you that if you come back with me, it will never happen again.”

Despite her lack of trust screaming at her to stay away, Grace felt a glimmer of hope.

“You want me to come back with you?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, I do, very much,” Nathaniel replied, fidgeting with his gloves. “I have missed you so much. I’ve felt a longing I’ve never experienced before, and it creates an ache in me I cannot stand. Please, Grace. Return home with me. Allow me to make things right.”

“Of course, I want to go home with you,” Grace breathed, fighting the urge to run into his arms. “But after what has happened, how can I trust you? You stayed away from me for so long, Nathaniel, and when it seemed that we finally made it through the battle you were fighting within yourself, you abandoned me. And your aunt, when she visited, she made it seem as if you held me to blame.”

“She had no right to speak to you about me,” Nathaniel replied. “You are not to blame for my actions, and if I had known she was going to seek you out, I would have stopped her. She has no idea what is going on.”

“Nor do I,” Grace countered, exasperated. “I have no idea what you saw or felt when you left me. If we were to ever reconcile, Nathaniel, these secrets must stop. There must be nothing between us. Tell me, can you promise that?”

Nathaniel looked at her painfully for a moment but then nodded.

“Yes, you are right,” he agreed, moving toward a couch in the center of the room. “Please, if you’ll sit with me, I will tell you everything.”

Nathaniel’s willingness to come forward startled Grace. She was sure that he was going to tell her something else, but instead, he was suddenly so willing to share. She nodded, then moved to sit in the chair opposite the couch. When she did so Nathaniel looked at her woefully as if begging her to sit closer to him. But she would not move. Not until she was sure he was telling the truth. When Nathaniel realized she would remain away from him, he nodded in understanding and began to speak.

“My aunt is a cold woman,” he began, “but she cannot help it. Her entire family—my father’s side of the family—they were all like that. My father was just as harsh as her if not harsher. The only kindness—the only warmth I ever received from my family was from my mother. And when I was thirteen, she died in my arms.”

Grace gasped as she felt an icy pain take hold. She pictured herself losing her mother, and the pain she felt was great.

“What happened?” she asked, her heart going to him.

Nathaniel let out a weak laugh from his frowning lips, and he shook his head.

“I wish it was something more than the truth,” he admitted. “That something great had felled my mother, and I did everything I could to protect her. But that did not happen. It was an accident, we later found out. Our estate is vast, as you know, and we rarely ever met new servants. Sometimes, we weren’t even aware they were new at all. Apparently, our old cook had grown sick and needed much time to recover. A new one had taken their place and had been given a list of favorites and dislikes. But he was not warned about allergies. He saw that cinnamon cakes were my mother’s favorite, and he made them for her that day but with an extra ingredient. Almonds.”

He paused, looking up at her, helpless.

“Even I did not know my mother was allergic. We were having tea together. I had just gotten back from a hunt with Mr. Snievely and was so proud of the rabbits I had gotten for the upcoming festival.”

Nathaniel broke then, the emotion coming out so strangled that it ripped at Grace’s heart. Unable to help herself, she moved from her chair to the couch. The moment she sat down beside Nathaniel, he gripped her hand tight and looked her in the eyes.

“She was just talking,” he continued, the memory clear in his gaze. “She was talking about how proud she was of me and who I was becoming. Then she couldn’t breathe. When she fell over, I caught her, and I thought—I was sure—I could do something to save her. But I couldn’t. And she just…faded in my arms.”

“Oh, Nathaniel,” Grace whispered, squeezing his hand tighter. She wanted so badly to rip off his glove and press her bare palm into his own. But she didn’t and instead continued to let Nathaniel speak in his own time.

“I held onto her long after she was gone,” he finally continued after struggling for a moment. “The servants tried to make me let go. The physician, too, after he arrived. It took them hours to get me to give her up. My father was away on business, but the servants tried to comfort me. Especially Mr. and Mrs. Snievely. But every time they touched me, to just hug me or put a hand on my shoulder, it felt like knives being thrust into my skin. I couldn’t be touched anymore. I couldn’t touch anyone anymore, either. And I…became this.”

He stopped and looked down at his hands, one still clinging to Grace’s. Grace felt a tremor run through his body as he pulled in another deep breath.

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