Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

G race squealed in delight. After an entire afternoon of playing checkers, interrupted only by the occasional cup of tea, she at last won a game of checkers against Ollie. She had a sneaking suspicion that he was going easy on her while he'd been teaching her his strategy, but nevertheless it had worked, and she grinned.

"Well-played," Ollie said, grinning. "Even if it is only a game of luck."

Grace's jaw dropped. "That, sir, was no stroke of luck. It took very careful planning, and quite a bit of coaching to best you."

"And you only fought against my advice half a dozen times during this game, so I also consider that a win."

She laughed. "Touché."

"Would you like to play again?" he asked.

Grace shook her head. "It is too much pressure to repeat another win. I am satisfied that I won the last game."

He smiled. "I can appreciate that strategy."

"Perhaps we could read together instead."

"That sounds like excellent entertainment for after dinner, that is if you will not sing." His eyes looked slightly hopeful.

She bit her lip. "I am afraid that you have built my voice up in your head to be something more than it is."

"I suppose there is only one way to find out for sure," he said.

"And what is that?"

"Singing of course."

She smiled, a nervous anticipation swirling inside her. "I confess, I sing much better when I have an instrument to accompany me," she repeated her earlier reservation.

He nodded with understanding. "I shall not pressure you to sing. Reading sounds like an excellent way to spend the evening, though you will have to put up with my dull voice again."

She laughed. "It is not dull at all."

His eyes locked on hers, forcing the breath out of her. She wasn't sure if she was in the middle of inhaling or exhaling, but she couldn't do either in that moment.

Apollo nuzzled his head against her hand, and the movement seemed to break the clear moment between them.

He cleared his throat. "I will tend to the horses before we eat," he said. "Come, Apollo. "

The dog whimpered only for a moment, but then seeing where Ollie was headed, he bounded along behind him.

She resumed breathing—inhaling and then exhaling—like she'd always done. Something had passed between them—something that had been building. She couldn't put her finger on it precisely, only that she knew she enjoyed bantering with him. They'd spent the entirety of every day together since they'd met in such close quarters, and yet, she'd enjoyed her time with him, and hadn't been tired of his company once.

He was back in the room, sitting next to her again, before she'd registered that he'd even come through the door. Apollo came bounding in beside him, then turned in a circle, tail wagging furiously.

"I have some wonderful news, Grace."

She warmed at the tender way he pronounced her Christian name. "What is it? Apollo, what are you so excited about?"

"The storm has slowed down considerably," he said.

Grace blinked. The curtains had been completely drawn most of the days since she'd arrived to keep the heat in. There was only a small window in the dining room, and it had also been covered. She forced a smile. "That is good news," she said, trying to keep her voice sounding happy. After all, having the storm finally dissipate was a happy thing, was it not?

"Apollo knows he will not be kept indoors for much longer. He is well behaved, but he has missed his freedom. "

"I know how he feels," she said, nodding to her ankle. "I wish I could run outdoors right now too." She patted the dog's head.

"Speaking of, how is your ankle?" he asked, coloring at the word.

Grace smiled. It didn't seem odd for Ollie to ask after her, as he had done so every day since coming to his home. "I believe it gets a little better every day. I have to keep believing that."

He nodded. "That is good to hear. Soon you will be with your cousin, and getting the care of a proper physician. Then you will be able to join in at the house party as planned."

He frowned, and for a moment Grace wondered if he was not enjoying the prospect of her leaving either. But then he looked toward her ankle. "Do you think you'll be comfortable enough to ride?"

Grace's smile faltered. She was not in a hurry to leave the comfort and safety of this cottage, the surrounding woods, or the company of Ollie yet. But she knew since the first day that she wasn't going to stay here forever. Still the thought of leaving left her feeling empty. She mustered up her courage. She didn't want to be a burden to him. And he'd been so generous to let her stay so long. "If you will give me the directions, I shall leave after supper."

Ollie's eyes widened. "There is not enough light for us to begin our journey tonight. We would not arrive until long after nightfall. We will start our journey as soon as we can tomorrow morning, provided the storm has fully abated," he said.

"We?"

"You will not be traveling by yourself," he said with finality.

"I won't?" A shimmer of happiness filled her as she thought about being able to spend more time with him tomorrow. She liked spending time with Ollie. But once she was gone, would she ever see him again? Suddenly the house party, the balls, and even the duke, didn't feel like the right path. What was wrong with a cozy cottage in the woods? Nothing.

"Of course you will not be traveling alone. It was a mistake to be out here alone before, and I will not repeat the mistake by letting you ride off alone." He shuddered. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Warmth spread through her at his words. He was a gentleman, in every sense of the word, wanting to see for himself that she made it to her cousin's estate safely, and that she would receive care from a physician. Grace swallowed. "That is most kind of you."

"I wouldn't hear of anything else," he said in a commanding tone that she had noticed a few times since meeting Ollie. "Besides, there are too many miles for me to explain every twist and turn. I will escort you to your cousin's estate."

Grace nodded. "Shall I help you with dinner preparations? "

"I always enjoy having your company," he said, holding out his arm to escort her into the kitchen.

The preparations for dinner and the meal itself went by too quickly for Grace's liking. She tried not to focus on the fact that this was her last evening with Ollie, but the pervasive thought creeped in between each pause in their conversation. Far too soon they finished their meal, and Ollie carried their dishes back into the kitchen.

He came back to escort her from the dining room back to the settee in front of the fire. Excusing himself for a moment he left the room and then came back with a volume tucked in the crook of his arm. It had a picture of a tree and a variety of flowers. Without so much as saying a word to her, he settled into the chair by the fire and began reading about botany in his monotonous tone.

Grace laughed, her mood lightening at his joke. "Are we to spend the evening studying about plants that are covered by snow? Should you wish to hold a class on such things, it would be much more enjoyable to be outside comparing the book with the plants in the area."

"That is an excellent idea. If only it wasn't the middle of winter." He closed the book, then took the red leather volume from its place on the side table. "Perhaps some Shakespeare instead? "

She settled in against the cushions. "I should like that."

He read several sonnets. The timbre of his voice transforming from the dull monotonous tone that he teased her with when he read the book on botany. Each line felt like a melody, each sonnet another song. Grace was swept away into the imagery as he continued to read. Each sonnet was more beautiful than the last, each one capturing her heart in a new way.

Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all:

What hast thou then more than thou hadst before?

No love, my love, that thou mayst true love call—

All mine was thine before thou hadst this more.

Then if for my love thou my love receivest,

I cannot blame thee for my love thou usest;

But yet be blamed if thou this self deceivest

By wilful taste of what thyself refusest.

I do forgive thy robb'ry, gentle thief,

Although thou steal thee all my poverty;

And yet love knows it is a greater grief

To bear love's wrong than hate's known injury.

Lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,

Kill me with spites, yet we must not be foes.

He closed the book, and she sat up straighter. "You cannot finish on that one," she said.

"Why ever not?" he asked, an amused expression on his face .

"The last line speaks of killing. Surely it is not one to leave in the memory."

"It also talks about not being foes." He eyed her than opened up the book. "Shall you choose, or shall I?"

"Turn to a random page," she said.

He did, reading a few more poems about love and warriors and dancing.

Grace sighed at the word dance.

Ollie looked up. "What is it? Is your ankle in pain?"

Grace leaned back against the settee. "There is less pain than before, but I don't think I will be dancing anytime soon."

"Nonsense, you just need the right partner."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Shall we test it?" He put the book down on the table and stood in front of her.

She blinked. "I—"

He held his hand out. "May I have this dance?"

Her heart stopped, then all at once it fluttered with anticipation at his request. She looked from his outstretched hand to his intense eyes. Grace's breath caught in her throat, and she tried to interpret her own feelings. "I should be delighted."

Her ungloved hand shook as she placed it in his, the tingling sensation spreading from her hand up through her shoulders as he helped her stand. He pulled her in close, holding her in his arms.

"You may lean on me," he said softly. "You should not try to bear the entirety of your weight on your ankle."

"I should not wish to be a burden."

He brushed a small curl at the side of her face, tucking it behind her ear, and her eyes fluttered at their own accord at his touch. "Nonsense, Grace. The right partner will not think you a burden."

She knew she could trust Ollie. He had done everything to help her since she'd arrived. She leaned on him, keeping the weight off her ankle, and he adjusted his own stance to compensate.

His strong arms enveloped her. He smiled and began humming a tune as he slowly turned her around the room, helping her through the dance steps. The dance moved in half time, slower than she'd ever danced with a partner before.

She felt light and safe in Ollie's arms as they danced around the small room. He looked into her eyes with an emotion she couldn't name, and she realized just how much closer they were to each other.

She relaxed with his arms around her, and she put weight on her ankle testing it. She stumbled a little, but Ollie's arms were around her in an instant, as if he had anticipated her stumble. She held onto the lapels of his jacket. He smiled at her. "See, the right partner will help you."

Her breath caught. He held her, looking at her with adoration. She'd never felt so feminine or seen as she did in that moment. The way he looked at her made her believe that she truly was the belle of the ball—that she was beautiful and wanted. It was almost too much.

He stopped them in front of the fire. Still supporting her weight, he took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand, the sensation almost causing her to swoon. "See, your ankle will hold up for dancing with the right partner."

Her breathing came in short bursts. "Thank you for the dance," she said.

"It was my pleasure," he said, squeezing the hand he'd just kissed.

Grace's mouth went dry, and a swirl of emotions surrounded her. Was the duke such a partner? Attentive and caring? Ollie had been every bit the gentleman from the moment she'd arrived. Being in Ollie's arms had stirred an emotion inside of her, and then brought up another one on its heels. She didn't want to leave, because she didn't want to leave Ollie. A sadness pushed on her more than the pain in her ankle. After dancing with Ollie, would she want to dance with anyone else?

"Allow me," he said, helping her walk to the bedroom.

"I am content to take the settee tonight," she said.

He nodded. "You may at least have privacy to change."

After changing, Grace took out the pins and comb from her hair, letting her curls fall down her back. She braided her hair quickly, knowing that even though it was late, and she had an early morning tomorrow, she would be up for hours replaying every moment of their dance together.