A Gentle Grace (Wedded Women Quartet) (11 page)

She could not breathe with him so close. She could not think with him so close. “No, I would not like to sit down. I do not want to dance any longer. I just want to go home.” And to her complete and utter embarrassment, Grace began to cry. “Except,” she choked out while Stephen stood frozen with a look of sheer helplessness on his face that she would have found comical if she weren’t falling apart, “I d-do not have a carriage b-because it had to be s-s-sold.” The last bit she wailed loud enough to have heads turning, and with a muttered oath Stephen whipped off his overcoat, threw it around her shaking shoulders, and guided her with all haste from the ballroom.

From across the floor Catherine and Josephine watched Grace and Stephen’s very public exchange with wide eyes while their husbands beat a hasty retreat to the supper room.

“We should go after them,” Catherine said at once. She gathered up her skirts to do just that, and glanced down with some surprise when she felt Josephine’s hand close around her wrist.

“No,” the blond said calmly. “I do not think we should.”

Catherine blinked. “I must have heard you incorrectly. It sounded as if you do
not
want to go rescue Grace from Lord Melbourne… But surely that is not what you meant to imply.”

“That is exactly what I meant to imply.” Josephine rolled her eyes. “Honestly, have you ever known me to say something I do not mean? Let them go. If Grace needs us, she will come and find us.”

“But—”

“No, no ‘buts’. Grace came here with the intention of finding Stephen and that is exactly what she has done. Now they will either come to terms with their feelings or come apart completely, but at least it will be done once and for all.”

Catherine crossed her arms and took a reluctant step back. “I do so hate it when you are right.”

“I know you do,” Josephine said cheerfully. “Want to make a bet?”

“On Grace and Stephen’s reconciliation?” Catherine’s eyebrows snapped together over sapphire eyes that flashed with disapproval. “Really, Josie, this time you have gone too far. Betting on our dear friend’s happiness is—”

“Horribly vulgar,” Josephine finished for her, “which is why I made it with Margaret before she left. No, I am talking about how long our husbands will remain in hiding. It’s like magic, really. A woman sheds a few tears and they go
poof
, like little rabbits disappearing into a hat.” 

Releasing a very un-ladylike snort, Catherine tapped one gloved finger thoughtfully against her chin. “Ten pounds they come back within the hour.”

“Twenty they stay out of sight until midnight.”

“Twenty it is.”

Exchanging a quick grin, the two women linked arms and sauntered off.     

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“I am terribly sorry,” Grace gasped the moment she and Stephen stepped outside. The cool evening air hit her like a slap to the face but she welcomed the suddenness of it, for it helped to clear her spinning head and made her realize just how big of a fool she had made of herself. “I do not know what came over—”

“No,” Stephen said savagely. His fingers bit into her arm and she winced, but one glance at his dark, dangerous expression told her he did not even realize he was still touching her. “You do
not
apologize to me. Not now, not ever. Do you understand?”

Biting her lip, Grace sniffed back the rest of her tears and nodded vigorously. “I… I understand. Do you think… Do you think you might lessen your grip? I know you are not meaning to, but I fear you are cutting off the circulation in my arm.”

“HELL AND DAMNATION!”

The curse exploded in the air, shocking Grace down to her very core. She had never heard Stephen swear so vehemently before, not even when she accidentally spooked his horse and he was thrown into a pile of muck.

He whirled from her and began to pace between the two stone columns that guarded the entrance to Almack’s, his eyes so dark as to nearly be black in the shifting shadows and every muscle in his body coiled tight as a lion’s ready to spring.

Not sure what to do, Grace drew Stephen’s overcoat closer around her chilled shoulders and remained where she was. She had never seen him like this: so filled with anger it rolled off from him in waves. He was always so calm and in control. So sure of himself and his actions. “Stephen,” she began tentatively, “it is quite all right. I came with Catherine and I will simply wait until she is ready to leave.”

Ever so slowly Stephen stopped and turned. Half his countenance was illuminated by flickering torchlight, and the raw, wretched pain Grace saw flash across his face caused her breath to catch.

“Stephen, what—”

“I am always hurting you,” he said bitterly. “Then. Now. I thought coming back here would make a difference, but it has not. It cannot. What I did to you… There is no penance large enough that I can pay to make up for it. I never deserved you. I
hurt
you, Grace.”

“Yes,” she said simply, for it was the truth. “Yes, you did. The way you ended it was cruel, Stephen. Did you think…,” And here Grace hesitated, for although she desired to know why Stephen had left with every beat of her heart, she was afraid as well, for what if the reason was one she could not understand?

Steeling her spine for any possible answer he could give, she finished her question with a calm reserve that disguised the panic that simmered just below the surface. “Did you think you had done something I could not forgive you for, and that is why you left? Tell me, Stephen.” Her tone urgent, Grace went to him and clutched his forearm. His jaw clenching tight, he bowed his head and refused to meet her gaze. “Look at me,” she demanded.

Stephen looked. “I want to give you all of the answers you seek. I do, Grace. It is why I came back. There was no other reason for me to return but you. Everything I have done was always for you.” His Adam’s apple jerked convulsively in his throat and he paused, seemingly at a loss for words. Seeking to comfort, Grace splayed her hand over his heart and he leaned into the pressure as if he needed it to hold him up, slight as it was. “And no matter what you decide when you have learned the truth,” he finished roughly, “I want you to know that.”

Their eyes met and held. Stephen cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the outline of her bottom lip while his other arm curved around her back and pulled her tight against him. Grace felt the warmth and the hardness of his body simultaneously, and even though she knew she shouldn’t, and even though she knew it was wicked, she tipped into his long frame, her nipples drawing taut beneath the thin fabric of her gown as her pulse quickened and something tightened low in her belly.  

“Stephen…” she whispered achingly. Her fingers crept up to catch in the ends of his hair. He lowered his head, his breathing heavy, his eyes dark with need. Grace wet her lips, sliding the tip of her tongue across the edge of his thumb and tasting the merest hint of salt. He groaned, and she felt the hand at her back begin a slow, sensuous descent. Tilting her chin up, she closed her eyes…

“I should get you home. The hour is late, and I do not want you to catch a chill.”

Had Stephen kicked her feet out from underneath her he could not have shocked her from her state of arousal any faster than he did with those two short sentences.

“Get… Get me home?” she repeated dumbly.

“Yes. At once. Immediately. Now. You there!” Spinning free of her grasp so quickly she was set back on her heels, Stephen marched across the cobblestone drive and flagged down a footman. Before she quite knew quite what was happening Grace was tucked into an unfamiliar carriage with Stephen sitting across from her and they were headed for her home some twenty blocks away.

When they arrived Stephen assisted her from the carriage, but his mood was aloof, his touch on her arm oddly detached. Bewildered by the sudden change in his demeanor Grace remained silent, caught up in her own thoughts until Stephen’s third knock on the front door went unanswered and he turned to her for an explanation.

“Oh, my parents are away,” she recalled belatedly, her brow furrowing. “They went to fetch Rosalind. I do hope they catch her before she marries the Baron,” she added thoughtfully.

“Your sister ran away to marry a… Never mind.” Raking a hand through his hair, Stephen hissed out a breath between his teeth and glowered down at her. “Where are your servants? Surely someone should be up to answer the damn door.”

Finding she did not like his tone one bit, Grace hugged her naked arms to her chest – they had left before she could fetch her cloak and she had returned Stephen’s overcoat to him in the carriage – and took a step back, retreating the furthest distance from him the narrow front portico would allow. “Mother let most of the household staff go. There is only a cook and an upstairs maid, both of which live elsewhere. That is why I am staying with Catherine. I told you all of this, Stephen.”

“You bloody well did not!” he exclaimed, his eyes widening.

“You curse more now than you used to,” she observed idly.

As if to prove her point Stephen swore again before he turned from her and braced both arms against the wrought iron fence that surrounded the portico. Stifling a yawn, Grace leaned back against the door, letting her head thump loudly against the wood once, twice, three times before Stephen spun around, fists clenched and chest heaving.

“Would you stop that?” he snapped.

Grace paused mid-thump. “You are also much more temperamental. I must say, it is almost like you are a different person.” Although she desperately wanted nothing more than to ask Stephen a hundred questions, she was rather enjoying provoking his ire. “Why did you want to leave Almack’s so suddenly?” Her lips twitched. “Was it past your bedtime?”

“It was either leave then or ravish you up against the pillar,” he said silkily. “Which one would you rather I have done?”

Grace swallowed audibly, then gasped when Stephen sprang forward and slapped one hand on either side of her shoulders, effectively pinning her against the door. His knee slipped between her legs, parting them easily. Even through her voluminous skirts she felt her womanhood brush up against the length of his hard thigh, and her cheeks suffused with color even as her mind cried,
Yes! Yes, this is what I want
.

“Well?” Stephen whispered, his mouth a hair’s breadth from her own. “Which one, Grace?”

It felt like she was burning from the inside out. Every inch of her was aware of his presence. Every nerve screamed for his touch. Whether she ever got the answers she sought or not,
this
is what she truly wanted. To feel alive. For Stephen to
make
her feel alive. For him to love her, if only for a little while, for she would rather have one minute of ecstasy in his arms than one hundred years of loneliness without him.

Fumbling behind her, Grace closed her fingers around the doorknob. The metal was cool against her skin. “R-ravish me,” she gasped before her hand twisted, the door opened, and they stumbled inside.  

CHAPTER TWELVE

The house was dark, but they didn’t need light. They had touch.

Stephen’s hands were everywhere as he backed Grace into the parlor. She tripped over the rug and her hip bumped hard against a side table, but neither of them paused. They fell onto a velvet chaise lounge in a tangle of limbs, Stephen on top, Grace writhing beneath.

Months worth of frustration and helplessness and unrequited longing came pouring out of Grace as she pressed her mouth greedily to his, not caring when their teeth bumped or he nipped too hard at her bottom lip.

They had made love only twice before. Both times had been sweet and filled with tenderness. Gentle words had been spoken, loving glances exchanged. Stephen had been so careful with her, as if she were spun of glass. Grace had been shy. Reserved. Hesitant, even. Now they tore at each other’s clothes like animals and the air was filled with the sounds of their gasps and throaty moans.

Stephen ripped the stays on her gown and all but wrenched the delicate fabric in two to get it off of her. Laughing, she struggled to help him, half sitting on the chaise and lifting her arms high above her head so he could pluck the dress from her body in one fell swoop.