by Heather Gray
Without turning to look at her, Thomas said, "I have a lifetime of good memories with you, Gracie. A few weeks of my bad humor won't tarnish that. If it will make you feel better about things, though, I'll ride with you."
Once Thomas exited the room, Grace saw to her morning ablutions and did her best to prepare for the day. She pinned her hair into place and was slipping her feet into slippers when Thomas came back in, carrying a blue day dress. "I know it's not a color you normally wear, but it'll have to do for now," he said.
"It's wonderful! It looks light and refreshing."
"The air will continue getting colder as we move further north," Thomas said. "There's a pelisse waiting for you in the carriage and another dress packed away in one of your trunks. Unfortunately, there are no other… suitable… clothes in the trunks."
With a smile, Grace took the dress from him and stepped behind the screen. "Since it's entirely your fault I do not have my trousseau with me, I assume you will be paying for a seamstress to come to Castle Felton and provide me with a wardrobe."
Laughing, Thomas said, "Right you are, you little minx. I suppose I owe you at least that."
"At the very least," she said with a smug chuckle.
From behind the screen, she continued speaking. "We've not discussed money at all. I've no idea what kind of allowance I will have, what the budget for the house is, none of that. I know it's not normally done to talk with one's wife about such things, but do you think you can explain it all to me today?"
Grace came around the edge of the screen, holding the dress in place with her hands as she approached Thomas. Turning her back to him, she asked, "Can you please button me?" She had decided to forego the corset today and hoped Thomas's silence didn't mean he was offended by that.
He still hadn't answered her question by the time he finished the last button. Grace swung around and gave him a questioning look. "Thomas, do you think we can talk about it today during the carriage ride?"
"Talk about what?"
"The estate budget. My allowance. Weren't you listening?" Grace examined him closely to see if anything was wrong. Thomas appeared flushed. "Are you feeling all right?" She reached out to touch his forehead and check his temperature. What is it that makes all the men in my life act so peculiarly without warning?
He dodged her touch, but reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. His voice was slow and deliberate as he said, "I'm fine, Grace." Then he leaned in and kissed her forehead.
Something had changed in Thomas's expression while she'd been behind the screen. She couldn't say what, but the charged look in his cobalt eyes made Grace think perhaps asking him to ride in the carriage with her had been a bad idea. Looking into those eyes all day and remaining unaffected was going to be a trial.
I always did enjoy a good challenge.
****
As they got underway, Grace and Thomas shared a light meal of bread and preserves while he told her more about Castle Felton. He hoped to endear the place to her before they arrived. "I have a couple that stays on as caretakers. They see to the grounds and make sure the castle is kept in good repair."
"Other than them, it sits there empty?" she asked.
"I have tenants who farm much of the land, but that's about it."
"I've heard Northumberland is quite austere."
Nodding his agreement, he said, "It is. It's beautiful in its own way."
"So talk to me about money."
Thomas laughed and said, "Subtlety is not your strong suit, Gracie. You do know that, right?"
Her emerald eyes sparkling, Grace told him, "You'll always know exactly where you stand with me."
His wife was not going to like what he was about to tell her. Knowing he couldn't avoid the conversation forever, he began speaking. "Rupert will officially be your butler at Castle Felton, but he is also going to be acting steward of the castle as well as head steward over my other holdings. He will oversee the running of the household, as well as the budget."
Grace, whose laughter had shone in her eyes just moments ago, sat back. She swallowed and said, "You don't trust me."
Shaking his head, Thomas told her, "I put all of this into place while I was still under the impression you'd trapped me into this marriage. I'll admit my intentions weren't entirely loving, but we've agreed that's all in the past. Try as I might, I can't undo everything I put into place during this short time I have left before I need to leave."
"You wanted to wound me."
He nodded and said, "I wanted to cut you as deeply as I felt you'd cut me."
"We're not doing a very good job of putting the past behind us, are we?" Her voice had a bruised sadness to it, and the lustre in her eyes had dimmed.
"I think," Thomas said contemplatively, "that we've safely put the accusation and anger in the past. That does not require, however, that we forego discussing it altogether. It seems reasonable that we should be able to talk about it when it comes up without feeling guilty or self-conscious."
Grace nodded and said, "Certainly. Tell me the rest of what I'll need to know."
"Rupert's name is the one listed on the bank account. He knows not to hold the purse strings too tightly. He is aware your wardrobe needs replacing. I also sent word back to Stafford that the remainder of your belongings be sent on to you at the castle."
"This all seems rather surreal."
"I suppose it does. Do you much feel like you're married?"
"About the time I get used to it, you shall be leaving." Her voice was beguiling as she said, "I am likely to grow terribly independent in your absence."
Thomas burst into laughter. "Gracie, dear, have you ever been anything but independent?"
"You know I'm going to have Rupert order me a subscription to the newspaper."
"I've already taken care of it."
"Which paper? And when did you have time to do that?"
"At our last stop, while you were upstairs bathing. I sent off the letter to Stafford about forwarding your belongings and one to Castle Felton notifying them of our impending arrival. I ordered a subscription to the Morning Chronicle for you and jotted a note to your parents letting them know where you will be and more or less apologizing for the way I conducted myself at our wedding."
"My, you were busy."
"You gave me a lot to think about."
"I don't recall saying anything thought-provoking."
"Your silence said more than words ever could have." His wife's tilted head and furrowed brow betrayed her consternation. "You could have said all manner of terrible things to me when I insisted you call me 'Your Grace,' but you didn't. You could have ripped your dress to shreds and left it on the floor for me to find when you couldn't get out of it in order to bathe, but you chose not to. I treated you abominably and made you cry, and you never said a thing to me about it."
"How did you know I'd been crying?"
"You were hiccupping when I woke you."
A delicate blush crept up Grace's neck, which served to emphasize her ethereal beauty.
Thomas asked, "How many times as children did our parents force us to attend church on Sunday?"
Looking relieved at the change in subject, she replied, "Nearly every Sunday of my life that I can remember."
"How many times did we hear the vicar discuss the grace of God?"
"More often than I care to count," she answered. "It always made me uncomfortable hearing my name in the same breath as God's. When I was little, I actually thought it was me they were talking about. There was this one Sunday I cried hysterically because the vicar talked about how God would give Grace to anyone who asked. I didn't want to leave my family," she chuckled.
Thomas grinned. "I remember that Sunday. You were what, maybe five or six at the time?" After a momentary pause, he added, "You would have been within your rights to throw things at my head and scream like a shrew. Instead, you extended grace by not returning my anger. If we're going to be equally matched in this marriage, I'm going to have t
o learn to do the same."
"That's not so bad, is it?"
Self-mockingly, Thomas said, "I happen to dislike change. Leave me alone, and let me do my thing. For pity's sake, don't dare challenge me to become a better man than I already am."
With an impish grin, she said, "So, the Morning Chronicle. I don't suppose you could add the London Gazette?" Thomas shook his head in delight. When he got around to introducing her to London society as his duchess, Gracie was going to set tongues to wagging. The ton would never be the same.
The two sat there in companionable silence for a spell, each lost in their own thoughts. Thomas watched his wife surreptitiously. He could not get the scene from that morning out of his mind: Grace walking toward him with her blue dress held in place with nothing more than her hands. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't shake the image.
How did a man proceed with a wife he'd never wanted nor courted, but now didn't want to consider letting go?
****
Grace looked up and saw a smoldering look on Thomas's face. Her breath hitched in her throat. "Is everything all right?" He nodded but said nothing, instead turning and lifting the curtain over the window to take a look outside. "Are you sure? You seem upset."
"Everything's delightful." His expression didn't at all match his words.
Ever the curious one, she asked, "What were you thinking about?"
"I am fairly certain you don't want to know," he replied.
Drop it. Don't pry. A good wife does not force her husband to speak to her.
"Oh." She knew she should stop asking, but something inside her wanted to keep pulling at him until he gave an answer.
As a child, she'd once skinned her knee. Thomas had repeatedly told her to leave the scab alone for her own good, but she'd ignored him. In the end, unable to resist picking at it, she'd pulled the scab off, and the wound had started bleeding again. Even then she'd known that, given the chance to do it again, she'd likely not have heeded his words of warning. "I'm naturally curious, you know," she said.
Thomas rounded away from the window and let the curtain fall back into place. "You look lovely in that dress," he said.
That's what he was thinking? Then why do I feel like…
"Thank you."
"Did your mother talk to you about the things that happen between husbands and wives in marriage?"
That's what he was thinking!
Grace felt the heat radiating from her skin at his words, but she refused to reach for her reticule. I will not hide behind my fan! I can be adult about this conversation. Maybe. "She did, though I have to admit to not understanding much of what she said. What she explained sounded nothing like what I've seen the horses and sheep do. Or the pigs, for that matter."
Thomas's face flushed as he was overtaken with a fit of coughing.
I grew up in the country. It can't possibly be shocking that I've witnessed animals cavorting.
Once Thomas finally got his coughing under control, he said, "I have no idea what to say to that."
Grace chuckled, tickled that, even if inadvertently, she had discombobulated him so. "Why don't you say whatever you had planned to say before I started talking about the mating habits of animals?"
It took Thomas a moment, but he finally said, his gaze never leaving her face, "I thought perhaps we could share a room again tonight."
"Even if the inn has additional rooms available?" Her voice was not much more than a whisper, but she credited herself that it didn't waver.
Her husband's nod both excited and frightened her. "Only if you are comfortable. I won't force the issue. I've been enough of a clod already in this marriage."
"Would this be a better time for me to be honest or silent?" Mum always did tell me I should think before I speak. I suppose this is as good a time as any to start following her advice.
"I'll always prefer your honesty over your silence, Grace."
He says that now…
She momentarily broke eye contact, looking down at her hands where they lay neatly folded in her lap. When she raised her gaze again, the reassuring look on Thomas's face emboldened her. "I imagine I shall be uncomfortable, but isn't that the way of things we do not entirely understand? I trust you, and I would rather have it done with than allow it time to become something to fret and worry over."
A bark of laughter escaped Thomas before he said, "I have no idea if that was an invitation or a scolding."
I definitely never would have made it as a courtesan. Not that I'd have considered it, of course. Oh bother. How does a woman tell her husband she's willing to…
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Grace half-stood and leaned across the space separating them. Without a word, she placed her hands on his chest to brace herself against the jostling of the carriage and leaned in to place her lips on his. Public affection was frowned upon, but she'd seen her parents kiss on occasion and understood the basic mechanics of it.
She was, however, unprepared for how sublime it felt when Thomas lifted his arms to wrap around her. He picked her up from where she was and settled her into a position sitting sideways across his lap. The moment she was in place, he returned his lips to hers and kissed her with much more tenderness and passion than she'd ever expected. Oh my.
After a moment, Thomas broke off the kiss and leaned his head back against the carriage. She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed with contentment. A moment later, a small laugh escaped her.
"What, pray tell, is amusing?" her husband asked.
"I thought I knew how to kiss because I'd seen my parents do it."
She could feel the laughter rumbling in his chest. "I hope you never saw your parents kiss like that," he said comically.
"If I had," she responded blithely, "do you think I'd have waited this long to accost you, Your Grace?"
"Hm. I like the sound of that."
"What?"
"I like it when you say 'Your Grace.' Want to know why?
"Most certainly," she said lightly.
His voice a gentle rumble, he said, "Because it reminds me that you are indeed my Grace, perhaps my saving grace."
"I haven't saved you from much."
"Indeed you have," he said. "I think God put you in that library for just such a reason." She tilted her head to look at him. His blue eyes were luminous, speaking more directly to her soul than his words ever could. "You have saved me from all my own selfish interests. We haven’t been able to spend much time together these past few years because I've been in London so much. If we had, you'd know I was becoming quite the cynic. I would have continued down that selfsame path until I was an unbearable human being had you not come along and trapped me into marriage when you did."
"So you're saying I saved you from yourself?"
Thomas nodded, his arms cradling her. "You saved me from myself and from all the marriage-minded ladies out to ensnare me. In my opinion, that alone deserves the highest honor the crown can award."
I think this whole marriage mishap might work out after all.
Chapter Seven
The following day was another long one in the carriage. Thomas's hopes of making it to Castle Felton before nightfall were evaporating as the day wore on, but spending another day with his radiant bride was more than enough compensation.
"You seem worried," Grace said to him as evening approached.
"Not worried," he said. "Thoughtful."
"I shall miss you when you are gone," she said, a shy smile lighting her face.
Thomas, who was far more used to Gracie acting the outspoken hoyden, gave her a gentle look. "I'll write as often as I’m able."
"Are we in danger this close to Scotland's border?"
The change in subject threw him, but he kept pace with her. "Not typically. Raids are mostly a thing of the past. I suppose some of the older generation may continue to stay on alert anyway. Some habits are hard to break, and distrust is one of the hardest."
"If I write you, how will I kn
ow where to direct the letters?"
"I've given Rupert all the information."
With an impish grin, she asked, "Because you don't trust me?"
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Come back alive, and I might be willing to drop it." Her mouth smiled, but her eyes looked worried.
"I'll do my best."
"Remind me again when you leave."
"Tomorrow morning at first light," he replied. Her sharp intake of breath drew his eyes to her face. She paled at his words, and her shining raven coiffure stood in stark contrast to her now colorless face. "It can't be helped."
"Will you be taking the carriage?" she asked, not saying anything against his planned departure.
Thomas shook his head and answered, "The carriage, footman, and driver will stay with you. Hero will go with me."
"Will you be safe traveling alone?"
Enjoying her concern for his welfare, he said, "I believe so. I'll be meeting up with another gentleman about a day's ride from Castle Felton. From there we'll be traveling on together. Besides, Hero's never let me down when I've been in a tight spot."
"It's not as common as it once was," she said in reply, "but highwaymen do still roam the rural areas."
"I'll be armed, and as I told you, Hero is faster than any highwayman's horse." What he didn't say was that carriages were much more vulnerable to highwaymen. He didn't want to worry Grace since they were presently traveling by carriage.
****
It was close to midnight when they arrived at Castle Felton. Mr. and Mrs. Pembroke greeted the duke, fatigue in their eyes. Thomas sent them both back to bed and told them he'd see them first thing in the morning. He instructed the footmen to unload Grace's trunks and bring them upstairs to her chambers. To Rupert, he gave orders to see to everything else, including the servants.
Thomas then stepped back over to the carriage and opened the door through which he'd recently exited. Grace was sound asleep in what looked to be an uncomfortable position on one of the benches. He called her name, but she didn't move. Climbing into the carriage, he gathered her into his arms. Getting back out of the carriage was awkward, but he managed. Then he carried his Gracie into her new home, up the grand staircase, and into her bedchamber. He laid her down on her bed and smoothed the jet-black hair back from her face.
