Her Saving Grace

by Catherine Winchester

  “On the contrary,” he answered. “I rather think your problem might be that you feel things too deeply.”

  She looked around, surprised by his answer.

  “I think you were born into a family at war and the everyday, the small and not so small insults from your mother and brothers stung. Your father probably told you to be strong, to ignore them, while praising your intellect, so you tried to repress your pain and focused on broadening your mind. You came to believe that everyone viewed you as negatively as your mother did and so you developed a hard edge, to push people away before they could reject you. Sometimes I can almost literally see your intellect struggling to repress your emotions, but the two work best together, complementing each other.”

  With each word he spoke, her colour faded until she looked as white as a sheet. He stepped closer, wanting to comfort her but unsure of his welcome.

  “I don’t care what you say,” he told her, reaching out and caressing her cheek with the back of his index finger. “I can see the real you. The woman who cares too much, the woman who feels too deeply, the little girl who’s terrified of being rejected again.” He smiled tenderly. “You have done so much, survived much more, but you can't even see how special you are. I think you’re utterly amazing, Mari, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you how wonderful you are, and how deeply I love you.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You have to,” he implored, cupping her cheek with his hand. “Each day you keep your emotions buried, a little more of you dies. I worry that one day, all you will be is intellect, but there is no place for intellect, without humanity.”

  By the time he was finished, her lower lip was trembling. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over.

  “I’m frightened.”

  “I know, my darling, I understand how painful life has been for you, but can you honestly tell me that denying your emotions has made things easier?”

  “I can function.”

  “But the pain is still there, festering. Letting it out is the first step towards letting it go. Please, Mari, let me help you.”

  “I don’t know how.”

  “Tell me how you feel about me, honestly.”

  “I… I… care for you, very much.”

  The disappointment he felt was palpable but he wasn’t giving in yet. Besides, he didn’t believe her.

  “Kiss me,” he told her. She may not be able to tell him how she really felt but he could feel it in her kiss.

  To his surprise, he didn’t need to ask twice and she stretched up to kiss him, threading the fingers of one hand into his hair to pull his head down. He didn’t resist. She kissed him with more desire that he had ever experienced before and when they separated, both were breathing heavily and having trouble restraining the passion they had just ignited.

  They stared into each other’s eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to take her to the hay loft, throw her down and show her how much he wanted her, despite his earlier protests that he wouldn’t make love to her until she gave herself to him completely.

  Casabian brought them to their senses, nuzzling Nathaniel’s shoulder and whinnying.

  Damaris smiled. “Someone’s jealous.” She removed her hand from Nate’s hair and stroked the horse’s nose, causing him to whinny again.

  “He likes you,” Nate told her, as Casabian nudged her shoulder.

  “Is that a good sign?” she asked, moving closer to the horse.

  “Sadly no,” Nate laughed. “Cas is rather indiscriminate with his affections, he likes everyone.”

  “Did you break him in?”

  “I did.”

  “Then it speaks very highly of you.” She blushed and averted her gaze by kissing Casabian’s muzzle, but he didn’t know why she was uncomfortable.

  “You like animals?” he asked, positioning himself on the other side of Casabian’s head and patting his neck, the horse ignored him however, preferring the stranger.

  “What’s not to like?” she asked. “Animals have no artifice and many are loyal and loving.”

  He agreed with her assessment. “Here.” He took a chunk of carrot from his pocket and handed it to her, then saw her easy smile as the animal showed his appreciation by nudging her stomach.

  The light was fading quickly now and hearing footsteps approaching, Nate turned to the end of the stables to see the head groom. He paused when he saw them.

  “I just came to check on the animals one last time.”

  “We’ll get out of your way,” Nate assured him. “I’m sure we’re already late for dinner and I havent even changed.”

  Damaris seemed loathe to leave but placed one final kiss on Casabian’s muzzle, then followed Nate outside, surprised to realise that she hadn’t even told him what she came to say.

  “I’ve decided to adopt Ella,” she said as they walked back to the house.

  “Mother talked you into it. I assume?” His tone was neutral and she looked over at him, but it was now too dark to see much detail in his expression.

  “She did.”

  “Mother can be a force to be reckoned with when she wants, but don’t let her bully you into this. Don’t take that girl in unless you can love her.”

  “I don’t know if I can love her,” Damaris admitted. “But I very much want to try.”

  Nate gave a curt nod but didn’t give away how he felt about this. He hoped that Damaris would love the child but given her losses, he wasn’t entirely sure that she was still capable of it.

  ***

  Although it was a faux pas, he decided not to change as it would only delay them, and dinner even further. So she waited as he quickly washed, then they headed downstairs together.

  While she supported his desire not to hold the meal up any longer, she was glad that she had changed. She realised that just a few days ago, she would rather have endured their scorn than change needlessly, just to eat a meal but now, she found that she wanted to court their approval and actually feared their disapproval.

  No one spoke about the child, Ella, at dinner and Damaris found that she was both relieved and disappointed. Part of her would be glad if the whole matter was forgotten and the girl remained where she was but at the same time, she missed the feeling of her small hand, wrapped in Damaris’ larger one.

  After dinner, they listened to Annabelle play the pianoforte, reminding Damaris of her promise to play, then they played cards until it was time to retire to bed. As Isabelle kissed her daughter on the cheek, she asked if Annabelle would be accompanying her into the town next morning to, “buy clothes for our newest and littlest guest.”

  Annabelle assured her that she would, and Damaris realised that no one had forgotten about Ella.

  Alone in her own room, she prepared for bed then sat by her window, looking out at the dark landscape below and wishing that Lilly was here to talk to. She could have felt safe leaving Ella in Lilly’s care and while she didn’t expect the Copleys to hurt or abuse Ella, she did feel as if she was imposing on their hospitality, regardless of how much Isabelle had reassured her.

  The truth was, she didn’t want the responsibility for the child and Lilly would have shouldered that responsibility for her, just as she had cared for Damaris in her mother’s stead as a child. Lilly would always know what to do when it came to children because she had such a nurturing nature.

  The ticking of the clock on the mantle was soon the only sound, as the servants retired for the night, and Damaris found her thoughts drifting to Nate again.

  She had slept better last night than she could remember in a long time and before she could think too deeply about it, she pulled her dressing gown on and stole from her room, an oil lamp in hand to light her way.

  Thinking he would likely be asleep, she didn’t knock but quietly let herself into the room. She could see his outline under the covers, so she blew the lamp out and let her robe fall to the floor, then she stole over to the bed and climbed under the covers.

  She was just wo
ndering if she should wake him or leave him to sleep when he spoke.

  “I would say that I should put a lock on that door, but I know even that wouldn’t stop you.”

  She could tell by his tone of voice that he was only teasing and made her way over to him.

  “Trouble sleeping?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “And me,” he admitted. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She settled into his side, her head resting on his chest and for the first time since dinner, she relaxed. She didn’t know if it was his presence, his warmth or the gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, but something about being here soothed her and her eyes soon began to feel heavy. Before sleep claimed her however, there was something that she wanted to do.

  “Nate?”

  “Mm?” he sounded sleepy.

  “When my mother said something particularly mean, I would sneak into her dressing room and cut some buttons off her favourite gowns.”

  It was a silly secret really, a petty and underhand way for a child who felt powerless to exact some small measure of revenge. Her mother wouldn’t even have the hassle of replacing the buttons, that duty fell to her lady’s maid, but it did mean that her best dresses weren’t always available when she wanted them. However trivial the secret though, she had never told anyone before, not even Lilly.

  Nate chuckled and his hand came up to stroke her hair.

  “Thank you for telling me,” he said, then raised his head off the pillow to kiss the top of hers.

  She smiled and allowed sleep to overtake her, thinking that this trusting business actually felt pretty good.

  ***

  The next morning Damaris awoke with a smile on her face and realised that she wanted to wake up like this every day, if she could. She realised that the only way that could happen is if they married, which could take as little as three weeks if they wanted. That thought struck fear into her heart, which dulled her happiness somewhat.

  Her fear had changed however; it wasn’t so much commitment that she feared now, for she realised that she trusted Nate almost as much as she trusted Lilly, her fear was for change.

  She would have to leave her life and estate and come and live here, get used to Nate’s house and Nate’s friends. Things would be expected of her here that were not expected of her at home; and what if she failed to be a good wife?

  Good wives didn’t study science, they didn’t write papers for science journals, they didn’t wear mens’ clothing. She didn’t think that Nate would stop her from doing those things but at the same time, she didn’t want to shame him in front of his peers. She couldn’t even dance properly!

  She wasn’t known for her cordial personality nor congeniality either.

  “I can actually hear you thinking,” Nate murmured. “Go back to sleep.”

  She glanced at the clock on his mantle. “Your valet will be here soon to wake you.”

  He sighed but opened his eyes. “Well, at least I get to kiss you goodbye today.”

  She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  “What has you frowning and spoiling such a beautiful forehead?”

  “Nothing, as you said, I was just thinking.”

  “It is possible to overthink things, Mari. Sometimes you just have to relax and trust your instincts.”

  That was all well and good when you were a confident man like Nate but more often than not, her instincts told her to run and hide.

  “I’ll try,” she told him anyway, because she didn’t want to be afraid so much. She wanted to love again, to feel cared for, just as much as she wanted to love and to care for another.

  “That’s all I ask,” he told her, his warm smile melting her earlier worries away, as if they were no more substantial than a snowflake.

  She leaned down to kiss him and he responded with a fervour that quite made her forget that she was a respectable widow. She felt like a girl again, young and carefree, galloping through the stubble fields with her father, only here there was no wind in her face and the rhythmic hoof beats were replaced by her galloping heart.

  She was so caught up in the moment that she was slightly stunned when a noise came from next door. She pulled away, panicked. As much as she usually accepted and on occasion, invited ridicule, she had never dreamed of being shamed in this way; as a wanton woman of loose moral character.

  “Nate!” she hissed, knowing that any second, the valet would come through to open his curtains. If he found her here, she would soon be the object of scorn and ridicule throughout the town.

  Nathaniel looked as panicked as she though, and clearly had no suggestions.

  Hearing footsteps approach, she flung herself from the bed and looked around for something to hide in or behind. Seeing only the bed, she dropped to her knees and crawled underneath it, as the door to the dressing room opened.

  “Good morning, my Lord,” she heard the valet say.

  Thankfully the dressing room doorway was on Nate’s side of the bed, but the valet would come around her side to open the second set of curtains, so she wriggled into the middle.

  “Good morning, Markham.”

  “I’ve left some warm water in the dressing room and your clothes are laid out.”

  “Thank you. I think I can dress myself this morning, if you have any pressing matters to attend to.”

  “I don’t, Sir.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Quite certain, my Lord. It’s no problem.”

  Nate hadn’t spoken again so he clearly was out of ideas and even if she could have communicated with him in some way, Damaris didn’t know what else to suggest.

  She silently cursed the valet’s work ethic and watched his feet as he walked but as he rounded the end of the bed, she spotted her dressing gown, lying where she had left it, by the door!

  Markham stooped to collect it.

  She was doomed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As Markham draped the dressing gown over his arm, Nate’s heart sank. He trusted his valet to be discreet; he had looked after Nathaniel since he was sixteen, and had worked for the Copleys since he was a boy, working his way up to the position of valet. Nathaniel knew that Winton was training him up as a butler, so he could take over when Winton retired and if he didn’t trust his own judgement, he could trust Winton’s.

  No one was infallible, however and if presented with proof that a woman had spent the night with him, no matter how innocently, well that might just be too big a moral lapse for Markham to accept. He was loyal to the family after all, not Damaris, but while no one would think less of him for taking a woman to bed, they would surely gossip about the odd, widowed heiress that he had bedded.

  He had only one hope.

  “Markham, would you return that to my sister please? She came to see me last night. She thought she heard an intruder, and must have dropped it.”

  “Now, sir?”

  “Please, Markham, she’ll need it to dress.”

  “Of course.” He proceeded to the window and opened the curtains, then left the room.

  Damaris squirmed out from under the bed and kneeled beside it.

  “You sent him to Annabelle!” she hissed.

  “Anna is a good woman, she won’t betray you.”

  “But that’s not her gown, she’ll give me away, no matter how unintentionally!”

  “Trust me, she will understand. We all three covered for each other’s indiscretions as children.”

  “As children!” She sounded scandalised and he couldn’t help chuckling.

  “I mean that we covered for bad behaviour, not that we kept strange women, or men in Anna’s case, under the bed. She’ll accept the robe and won’t say anything untoward, I promise.”

  “She’ll hate me,” Damaris wailed, dropping her head onto the mattress so she almost looked as if she was praying.

  “She won’t hate you, honestly, but if you don’t go now, Markham will catch us red handed when he returns.”

&nbs
p; As angry as she felt, she knew that he was right and she dashed from the room.

  ***

  Damaris closed her door behind her and leaned against it, slightly out of breath after her dash. Thankfully she hadn’t seen anyone, but just the idea of being caught was enough to make her stomach roll.

  What’s worse, she couldn’t blame him for this mess, for she had gone to him last night, and she had kissed him this morning, which is why she lost track of the time.

  There was no Lilly to help her dress but Annabelle’s lady’s maid would be seeing to her for the moment. She prayed that the maid didn’t notice her lack of gown and Annabelle’s recent acquisition of a new one.

  The maid arrived a few moments later and if she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

  Damaris had asked for a simple hair style but what she got was far more intricate than her usual bun, even if it was simple by most standards. She was too distracted to think much about it however, believing that she might be thrown from the house at any moment, once her lack of decorum was discovered.

  She descended the stairs to breakfast with a heavy heart and found that Nathaniel and Matthew were already there. Nate poured her some tea from the pot while she fixed herself a plate of food. She didn’t take very much however, since she had no appetite and she left before either man was finished.

  It was only after breakfast, as she was headed to the study, that she realised she hadn’t even considered her father’s case this morning.

  Her dead father’s brutal death had been all but forgotten, for the idea that she had invited censure on a man she had only known for a week.

  What was wrong with her? She was out of leads to follow and she should be devoting her attention to that conundrum, not fretting over a man whom she had no intention of marrying

  Elizabeth was coming to see her that afternoon and whilst it warmed her heart to think of spending time with her best friend, it also took her away from the investigation.

  Nathaniel entered the study a few minutes after her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “You were very quiet at breakfast.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.”