Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

O liver's head was heavy when he awoke the next morning. Something shifted at his feet. His dog, Apollo, was at the end of his bed, covering his feet. Memories of the evening drifted back to him. Apollo was never allowed on his bed. But Grace had given him permission.

He looked over to the chair in his room, his eyes landing on Grace slumped in the chair. She was a rare woman. She'd stopped the terror that had infected his dreams the night before. Suddenly the events of last night came running back to him, feeling like a blow. The nightmare was a terrible one, the thought of it now sent prickles down his spine. He pushed the thoughts away, when he looked at Grace. She'd helped him. She'd pulled him out of the abyss. His heart warmed at the thought. She was safe. His nightmare wasn't a reality, it had all been just a dream .

She was still sleeping soundly, still holding onto the book she'd read from last night. Her voice had a melodic quality to it, calming him and counteracting the images that lurked beneath the surface of his dreams.

He swung his feet off the bed, standing slowly. Apollo moved his head, then settled back into the covers. Grace hadn't moved. He quietly took a blanket and put it around her. He didn't want to disturb her sleep. "Thank you, Grace," he barely whispered.

A small curl was in front of her face, and he gently tucked it behind her ear. Her skin was smooth, her ringlet soft. He pulled his fingers back, heat searing from where he'd made contact with the side of her temple.

He stepped back and quickly grabbed his clothes so he could change in the other room. With a few soft pats to his thigh, Apollo jumped down from the bed and followed him out of the bedroom. He headed outside to take care of the horses, then brought in an armload of firewood on his way back into the house.

Grace awoke in the chair. She blinked. Had she fallen asleep while watching over Ollie? Her stiff neck protested as she looked up to where Ollie was, only to find that the bed was vacant. How had she fallen asleep while attending to someone? She couldn't remember ever doing that when she kept vigil over her sister after a nightmarish episode. Rubbing her sore neck, she reached down for her crutch. She moved toward the open bedroom door but couldn't see Ollie in the room beyond. She closed the door just to be certain and changed back into her only other option of dresses. Sitting in front of the glass, she made quick work of her hair. She wasn't overly skilled at creating elegance with her hair, but today she wanted to do something more than a simple, long braid down her back. Her hair pins were in a small pile next to her mother's comb, and she used them to secure a simple chignon. She gave her hair a critical look. It was not expertly done, but it was what she could do without the help of a maid or a sister.

Apollo barked, and Grace picked up her crutch. She'd barely opened the door before Apollo came bounding in toward her. He sat expectantly in front of Grace.

She leaned over and scratched the animal behind his ears and the dog's eyes closed. "Good morning, Apollo."

He stayed by her side as they walked out of the bedroom together.

Ollie stoked the fire in the main living area. He stood and bowed as Grace approached. She dropped into a slight curtsy, but the gesture felt uncomfortable with her crutch. His direct gaze stayed locked on her. She wanted to say something to him, but she wasn't sure how to phrase what she wanted to know. But Ollie broke the silence first.

"I see that you preferred the chair instead of the settee," he said. "I cannot think which one is more uncomfortable. "

She smiled. He'd added a lightness to the situation. "I apologize. I meant no slight on your very fine settee."

He stepped toward her, taking her hand in his. "It is I who needs to apologize. I never meant to interrupt your sleep."

A spark of heat fluttered from where his ungloved hand touched her own, sending waves through her arm and up her neck. The pleasant tingling rendered her momentarily speechless. Finally, she said, "One doesn't need to apologize for having a nightmare, Ollie. It is not something one can control."

He brought his other hand on top of hers, sending more thrills along the length of her arm. "Still, I am very grateful for your service to me. And I do apologize you were not comfortable due to a result of my own actions, whether I could control them or not."

"It was not uncomfortable," she said slowly. "And I was happy to help, however I could."

He nodded. "Apollo also gained from the experience. He is not generally allowed on beds. I have a feeling you may have spoiled him."

Grace smiled, then reached down and stroked Apollo's sleek coat. "Perhaps it was my plan all along so that Apollo would like me better."

Ollie chuckled and shook his head. "I do not think you needed to allow him such freedom to gain that. It is clear Apollo shows a preference for you. He listens to you better than he does to me. "

"I will remind him to listen to you better," Grace said. She looked down at Apollo. "I believe you should listen to Ollie, Apollo."

The dog panted, wagging his tail at Grace's words.

"Are you hungry for breakfast?" he asked, pulling his hands away.

"Yes," she said, immediately missing the warmth of his touch.

He nodded. "I will start preparing it," he said, walking toward the kitchen.

Grace's heart pounded. "Could I be of use in the kitchen? There is no need to wait on me in such a manner. I can get around with the crutch."

He nodded. "Of course you are welcome to help. But I also do not mind waiting on you."

She could feel her cheeks heating as he looked at her. She swallowed. "I should like to help," she said finally.

As it turned out breakfast was not something Grace could easily help with. Warming the toast and preparing the eggs required two hands and no crutch. Instead Grace sat on a stool and cut the bread.

Grace had wanted to continue talking with Ollie, but he started whistling the moment he began making breakfast. She listened to the tune, a happy boisterous one she couldn't name. When he finished one of his refrains, she clapped. "I enjoy that tune. What is it?"

He grinned. "I do not actually know. It is one that Cook used to hum." He paused, his eyes wide. "I used to spend a lot of time in the stairwell of the kitchen."

"You did? Whatever for?"

"To steal the hottest biscuits and sweet breads of course."

Grace laughed. "I do not believe it."

"It's true. There came a point in the melody when I knew that Cook would be finished. Then she'd stop whistling for a moment, say something to the others in the kitchen, and then go back to whistling. I always knew I had about ten seconds to carefully lift one of the rolls or cakes from the tray. They were conveniently located on the edge of the counter, and I could reach them without being spotted if I was very careful."

"Did anyone ever catch you?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. I was too stealthy," he said confidently. "Though there was this one time …" He let the sentence dangle for a moment.

Grace eyed him, waiting for him to go on. When he didn't, she prodded, "What happened?"

"One time, I was coming down the stairs, about to perch at my post as usual, when one of the kitchen maids came up the stairs. She asked what I was doing."

"What did you tell her?"

"That the cooking was so delicious I wanted to learn how to make scones."

Grace laughed, picturing in her mind's eye a small boy with bright blue eyes pretending to fool the kitchen maid. It made for an adorable picture. "Did it work?"

Ollie laughed. "Of course it did. She brought me to the cook, explained what I wanted to know, and Cook showed me how to make scones."

"And you were never caught for stealing the cakes?"

"I never had to steal them when Cook explained that one of the duties of a true cook is to ensure that the food taste delicious for those eating it."

"And how does one do that without any experience?" Grace asked.

"Why, by trying all of the creations," Ollie said triumphantly, pulling out scones from the stove.

"You were very clever as a boy."

"Or hungry."

"You seem to be in a very good humor, considering—" She stopped herself. Why had she tried to bring the conversation back to last night again.

"Considering what?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

She dropped her eyes to her plate, focusing on the swirls of steam coming up from her scone. "It is nothing."

His face seemed to fill with understanding. "Considering my emotional state from last night," he finished, a grim look on his face.

"I apologize. I do not mean to pry. My sister has had several episodes of nightmares, and sometimes it takes her days before she is feeling like herself again."

"Your sister suffers from nightmares? "

Grace nodded. "Since she was a little girl."

His eyes held warmth. "Then I am indeed sad for her. They can be terrible things."

"Have you always had them?" she asked.

He shook his head. "They are a more recent development in my life," he said solemnly.

"Are they always the same?" she asked him.

He nodded slowly. "More or less they are about the same things."

"My sister has similar patterns. Though, she has found that when she shares the dreams in the daylight she is less frightened by them."

"Do they stop her nightmares?"

Grace shook her head. "Not entirely. But she rarely has a repeat of the same dream."

Ollie held up the prepared plates of food and brought them to the small dining table adjacent to the kitchen. "And do you stay up with her all night, too?"

"I take turns with my sisters, but I find that I am usually able to stay awake for the entire night after an episode. Consequently, I take the most turns."

"You are very kind to do it. And do you read to her too?"

Grace nodded. "Yes, though I do not have so riveting a book on botany as you possess."

"It works like a charm," he said, smiling at her over his plate of food.

"And sometimes I sing."

"I did not know you sing. "

"I do not sing very well. I do not perform well in front of others. I sing because it soothes her, and it's the least I can do."

"You are a woman of many gifts, I see," he said approvingly.

"I do what I can," she said, feeling her cheeks grow warm again at his praise.

"I should enjoy hearing you sing."

"Without a pianoforte?"

"Isn't that how you sing to your sister?"

"I sing to her when she's had a nightmare."

He raised an eyebrow at her admission.

"But singing for others is different."

His lips twitched. "I do not have a pianoforte here."

"Then I am afraid I would not be able to sing well at all." She laughed.

"I very much doubt that," he said, then added, "Shall we play a game of checkers this morning?"

She nodded. He likely didn't play too many games by himself in the woods. She would oblige him again, though she knew that she would be sorely beaten in the game. "That sounds like an excellent idea," she said.

He stood from the table, taking their empty plates. "I will be right back with the set. Apollo, would you like to come with me?"

Apollo lifted his head, then put it back down, content to stay by Grace's side .

Ollie shook his head and left the room, though Grace didn't think he was too put out by his animal's behavior.

Oliver placed the checker board between the two of them on the table. "Would you like to play with the red pieces or the black?" he asked her, holding up two small velvet bags for Grace to choose.

Grace reached for the bag he held in his left hand. "I believe I shall try my luck with the black pieces this time. I had no luck the other day with the red pieces."

Oliver nodded and they set up their pieces. He retrieved an extra piece from each of their piles, to be used to crown the kings later in the game, and put them back into the velvet bag. He shook the contents then held the bag for Grace to reach into. "Whichever piece you draw will indicate the person who will play first."

She reached her hand inside the small bag and pulled it out again. She smiled when she revealed the black piece in her hand. "It looks like today might be my lucky day," she said, sliding her first piece diagonally into a new square.

With each movement on the board they also took turns asking and answering questions, just as they had the first time they'd played checkers. Oliver enjoyed the questions part of the game more than the game itself.

After the fifth game, Grace groaned. "I have never lost so badly at checkers in my entire life. How are you good at a game that requires no skill?"

Oliver chuckled. "Clearly it requires some skill."

Grace stuck her lip out, pouting slightly. "I cannot believe that my luck is so bad. I even chose the black ones purposefully because they were so lucky for you the other day."

"It is not luck in this game. It is skill."

She waved her fingers in the air. "Games like archery and billiards require skill. Checkers is simply a game of chance."

"Then clearly chance is not on your side today."

"I have never been beaten so thoroughly before. My only comfort is that Apollo is on my side," she said, flashing him a challenging grin while Apollo's head laid in her lap.

He threw one of his pieces in the air, catching it, and repeating the process. "Shall I teach you how to have more luck?"

She crossed her arms. "One cannot teach someone how to gain luck."

He threw another piece in the air, catching it in the palm of his hand before resetting the board. "That is true, but I can teach you how to strategize in this game, and that's essentially the same thing."