Marcello & Grace (Royals of Valleria #2) (5 page)

Grace woke the next morning almost as exhausted as she had felt going to sleep. She had slept some, but her nightmares had woken her twice and thoughts of her guests had made any more sleep elusive.

She was mildly grateful that her nightmares had been tame this time. Some nights she woke screaming bloody murder and terrified the servants who rushed in to calm her. A screaming nightmare certainly would not do with royal guests in the house.

As she remembered Marcello and Catharine, she shot up and glanced at the clock, then sighed in relief. It was barely five in the morning, so she had plenty of time to see to things before breakfast was served.

She stepped out of bed and walked to the window, rubbing her arms for warmth; the fire had died sometime during the night. As she drew aside the curtains, she saw the dawn breaking through. The night’s storm had finally passed, leaving a bright, clear day in its wake.

Deciding that an hour or so working in the gardens would be perfect exercise for her, she dressed in old jeans and boots, and a simple t-shirt that covered her to her elbows. She grabbed a ridiculously large straw hat that made her feel silly but happy, and headed out.

The house was quiet on her way down the stairs. A few of the servants were milling about, cleaning and setting the dining room for breakfast. After a few words with the housekeeper and butler, she made her way through the house and exited out the back.

There was a slight chill in the air and Grace rubbed her arms again as she made her way to the gardener’s shed on the far side of the lawn. She walked past rows of trimmed hedges and banks of flowers, their colours now fading with the summer. The trees, which lined small paths created for walking centuries ago, were slowing gaining colour and losing leaves. Winter would be here before she knew it.

She always used to hate it when winter was near. Winter used to mean months stuck in the house alone with Daniel. She was never really allowed out in the winter.

As she greeted the gardener and went to get some gloves and tools from the large gardening shed, she wondered when she would stop comparing everything and every man to Daniel.
He’s not alive anymore
, she reminded herself again. She could go anywhere and see anything she damn well chose, even in the winter.

“Lovely morning, isn’t it?” a male voice said.

With a gasp, she swung around, a spade in one hand and a trowel in the other.

Marcello held up both hands in front of him. “I come unarmed,” he joked, but she sagged back and took a few quick breaths.

“You startled me,” she said, her voice a little unsteady. Damn him for making her afraid, she thought as anger bloomed within her. “Don’t do that,” she snapped.

To his credit, he didn’t bite back. He simply put his hands down and said, very calmly, “I’m sorry. Truly. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

For some reason, as she gazed into his dark brown eyes, she felt as though she could trust him. Grace, who had become so used to not trusting men, felt uncomfortable and just a little bit foolish at her outburst.

“No, I’m sorry,” she said as she released the tools and they clattered onto a workbench. “I didn’t mean to be so rude. I just wasn’t expecting either of my guests out this early.”

“I’ve always been an early riser, and I had some work to take care of this morning. After which, I decided a walk would be just the thing.”

He was dressed casually like her in jeans and a shirt, but his clothes clearly weren’t meant for digging in the dirt as hers were. “The fields will be a bit muddy this morning from the rain last night, but the paths should be clear for you.”

“Why don’t you walk with me? That is, if you don’t mind changing your plans for the morning?”

Grace opened her mouth to reply then promptly shut it. It had been so long since a man asked her what she wanted to do rather than telling her, other than her servants. After a few moments deliberation, she decided to turn this into a test for him, and herself. “Why don’t you come with me instead? Your clothes might get a bit dirty, though.”

“The dirtier the better,” he said with satisfied smile and stepped up to her. As she moved instinctually away from him, her back hit the edge of the workbench. She leaned back as he leaned forward and placed one arm beside her.

He was barely two breaths away from her. His face was close, too close. Though he was not touching her, just the nearness of his body to hers had her tensing. She tilted her head up, so that she could see him past the brim of her large hat. Marcello’s eyes briefly dropped to her lips before they took in the workbench behind her. “Why don’t I help you carry everything?” he whispered.

“Yes,” she whispered back, then cleared her throat. “Yes, thank you.”

After another moment, he stepped back and picked up several tools nearby and placed them in a basket. “Anything else we need?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, glancing at the basket as she licked her dry lips. She missed the flicker in Marcello’s eyes as she considered. “We’ll need to get you some gloves. We’ve got extras in the other room. I’ll go fetch a pair,” she said and turned away.

When she was safely in the other room, she let out a long sigh of relief. She was confused again and she hated it. The worst part was, she didn’t know if she was relieved that he had not kissed her, or if she wished that he had.

What would it be like to kiss another man again? she wondered. She’d had so little experience with it before Daniel and, well, it probably was not a stretch to believe that Marcello would kiss better than him.

Shaking her head free of foolish thoughts, she picked up a pair of gloves she thought may fit Marcello and headed back into the other room.

***

Marcello had wanted to kiss Grace since he first saw her last night. He had almost kissed her just now, but the look in her eyes stopped him.

He had gotten too close to her. Marcello had never and would never incite fear in a woman or abuse them. And, though he did not want to admit it, Grace was acting like a woman who had suffered abuse at the hands of a man. He wondered if Cat knew.

Marcello had wanted a few days of distraction when he arrived here, and thought the pretty widow might provide it. He had only wanted to learn more about the woman he had been thinking about for the last few weeks.

Now, he found himself wanting to learn everything.

Before he could think about what that really meant, she returned. She was more composed than she had been a minute or two ago, and as she walked closer he caught her scent again. God, that scent could drive a man mad with longing.

He was halfway there himself.

“Here you go,” she said in that soft, refined accent of hers. It made him wonder what her voice might sound like in other situations.

“Thank you,” he said as he took the gloves and his fingers brushed hers. She pulled her hand away quickly and turned to pick up the basket.

“Why don’t I help with that?” he asked as he held out his hand.

Both of her hands were wrapped around the handle in a fierce grip. As he caught sight of it, he wondered what kind of man would hurt the woman in front of him. “I’ll carry it actually. Why don’t you bring that extra basket over there?”

He picked it up and she led the way out of the gardening shed. They walked in silence for several moments before Grace began pointing out different parts of the property. Grace didn’t need to know that Marcello already had the blueprints for the entire house memorized; he never stayed anywhere unless he knew the escape routes. Some habits, especially considering the mission he may soon be on, never changed.

“Did you grow up nearby?" Marcello asked. "It seems as though you know the area quite well.”

“Approximately thirty or so miles that way,” she said, pointing one slim arm in a southeasterly direction. “Raynott Hall is over there. It’s in my care since my father passed about six years ago.”

Marcello raised an eyebrow. “Running two estates must keep you quite busy, particularly if the other house is as large as this one.”

Grace nodded. “There’s a lot to see to. Fortunately, my father did a very good job of keeping Raynott Hall up to date. I’ve had to do quite a lot to this house over the last year,” Grace said, her voice trailing off.

“Cat mentioned last night that you’d been renovating it,” Marcello said. “You’ve done a great job. It all looks wonderful.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile and he felt his insides twist. God, she was beautiful. Her golden hair was wound in another braid and covered by the large hat, and the sight of naturally pink lips smiling at him had his heart skip a beat. She was lovely, simply lovely.

Clearing his throat, he said, “You’re more than welcome. So, where are we off to this morning?”

“It’s just a little further down. I’ve been working on a little garden and vegetable patch out here. I thought, since no one else would be up, that I’d spent some time there this morning.” She stopped walking and it took Marcello a few steps to realize that she had. He looked back at her with a quizzical expression.

“Would you rather go inside?” she asked. “I can have breakfast prepared for you if you like.”

Marcello stepped towards her slowly and intently. “I would much rather be out here with you, enjoying this beautiful morning. Shall we?” he asked as he held out his arm for her to take.

After a few moments, one of her hands slowly slid around his elbow and they began walking again, arm in arm. Her fingers were light, and barely grazed the half-sleeve of his shirt. He could feel her tense beside him and he wasn’t sure how to resolve it.

Keeping his voice light and his pace slow, he began to ask about the estate and the various buildings he saw, keeping up her commentary from earlier. Slowly, as she began to talk of the familiar, her hand relaxed more against the unfamiliar.

“We’re heading for a garden just over there,” she said gesturing with her head down another path.

“Where does the other path lead?” he asked.

“Another garden,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Though the flowers have all but left at this point in the season.”

“I’d still like to see it.”

“I’d rather you stay to the paths nearest the house, if you don’t mind.” Her arm slipped from his and he wondered why she was pulling away from him. What lay in the other garden that made her so defensive?

As she began to walk ahead of him, Marcello called her back. “Grace,” he said softly. She stopped walking but didn’t turn towards him, so he walked forward to stand in front of her.

He slowly raised his hand, making sure it was within her sight, and gently tipped her chin up so their eyes met. The blue of her eyes were so pale they were almost translucent, and emotion lay heavy within them. He wondered what she saw naked in his own eyes.

“I would never hurt you, Grace, or go against your wishes,” he said in an even voice. “And I won’t intrude on your privacy, however much I’d like to.” He didn’t add that, to a certain extent, he had already intruded by studying layouts of the house and grounds.

Her eyes widened and she swallowed. Marcello followed the line of her throat as she did and had to reign in his need to pull her close. Instead, his fingers left her chin to caress her throat and the delicate collarbone peeking through the neck of her shirt. Her breath caught.

She stepped back and Marcello’s hand fell away. “I appreciate your consideration of my feelings,” Grace said.

Marcello cursed inwardly. If she was resorting to formality again, they were moving backward, not forward. He stepped towards her.

“Will you tell me one day why the other garden means so much to you?”

A flash of fear crossed her eyes and she began to fiddle with the basket in her hand. “It’s not that, not at all,” she said as she walked around him and down the path. “It’s best if you stay close to the house. It’s easy to get lost on the paths and with the rains we get this time of year, well, I’m just concerned for your safety, that’s all.”