Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

G race spoke with Lord Stanton in the drawing room before dinner. She'd spent her free time over the last few days playing her piano piece for tonight's musicale, which was to begin directly after dinner. Lord Stanton spoke about his lands and his house. Again. Grace nodded, trying to ask thoughtful questions about the same topics, though she felt as though she ran out of questions about gardens and grounds two days previous.

A knock sounded at the drawing room door, and the butler pushed out his chest with pomp. "His Grace, the Duke of Norfolk."

Grace turned toward the door. She had to be dreaming. After two days of calling on her in a row, he'd not come again that morning. Not that it mattered as she had it in her to refuse the man a third time. But here he was entering the drawing room, dressed for dinner .

She briefly caught her cousin's eye. Susan smiled, but then turned her attention to the duke, as if she'd been expecting him.

Susan spoke to the whole room. "We are so pleased to have the Duke of Norfolk join us this evening. His Grace was originally out of town and unable to attend the whole of our house party; but he was able to finish his urgent matters earlier than planned and does us a great honor by attending our event tonight." Susan went on making the personal introductions.

Grace couldn't remove her eyes from the duke as he was introduced. He walked around the room, carrying himself with a presence that extended beyond his person. He was every bit the picture of strength and refinement. How had she ever thought he was simply a woodman in the forest, a man of no consequence?

Susan and the duke made their way over and stopped in front of Grace and Lord Stanton. Susan introduced Lord Stanton to the duke first, and then turned to Grace.

"And though you have already met, allow me to formally introduce my cousin to you, Your Grace. This is Miss Campbell. Cousin, this is my neighbor, Oliver Hayward, Duke of Norfolk."

He bowed. His eyes never left hers.

Heat threatened to rush to her face and suddenly breathing felt difficult.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Miss Campbell," he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it gently. Then he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

The contact sent scorching heat up her arm. The touch nearly undid her. Grace had been so used to the way he said her Christian name, that the use of her surname sounded completely foreign to her. "Your Grace," she said, bobbing a small curtsy before her eyes found his again.

"May I say that the comb looks beautiful in your hair," he said.

Grace's hand immediately touched the jeweled ornament. "Thank you." She should thank him for returning it to her, but she didn't want to say it with so many listening ears around. "I thought I had lost it."

He lowered his voice, his words so quiet they only reached her ears. "It was not lost, only left on the small table by the mirror."

"It means a lot to me," she said, conflicting emotions inside her. "Thank you."

Before she had time to be too uncomfortable from the introduction—and their closeness—dinner was announced. Lord Stanton held out his arm to Grace, and she took it, all the while watching as her cousin, the hostess, went into dinner on the duke's arm.

Lady Elliott had made it a matter of priority not to stand on ceremony during the house party, so that each guest had the opportunity to sit next to new people at every meal. The system had been brilliant. Until now. Lord Stanton made it a point to sit close to the duke. In fact, he was only two seats away. And Grace was in the middle.

Grace caught her cousin's eye more than once, but Susan only seemed to smile during dinner, and gave no indication that she understood just how uncomfortable Grace was.

"I am glad to see you are well," the duke said, sincerity filling each word.

Grace just about dropped her soup spoon. Talking about her injured ankle would be completely inappropriate at the table. She lowered her voice. "As you see, Your Grace. I told you as much when we were dancing that I am quite recovered."

He tilted his head to the side, amusement flickering in them. "I meant about the previous two mornings when you were not up for callers. I hope you are feeling better now."

Heat burned her cheeks, and she wanted to blame the soup for their sudden rise in temperature. "Quite, Your Grace. Is there something you particularly wanted to discuss with me?"

"As a matter of fact there is something quite delicate in nature that I wish to speak to you about." His eyes pleaded with her, begging her not to turn him down.

She could not have such a discussion at the table. It would be overheard. She lowered her voice. "Not here."

"Very well. When would be convenient for you?"

Grace widened her eyes. "I cannot think of a time that would be convenient at all, Your Grace. "

"Please, Grace," he said, whispering her Christian name so softly, she almost missed it.

Grace gave one brief nod, unable to speak words through her emotions.

The dinner companion on the duke's other side captured the duke's attention, wanting opinions on the horses he was keeping, and Grace was left to think on what he could possibly wish to discuss with her.

Lord Stanton leaned over to Grace. "Are you distressed, Miss Campbell? You haven't touched the fish course."

Grace moved her fork around her plate, trying to make it look as if she'd made some sort of attempt to eat it, but at Lord Stanton's observation, she knew that she was doing a poor job, so she set down her fork and turned her entire attention over to Lord Stanton and his repetitive conversation for the remainder of the meal.

Grace caught up with Susan on the way into the drawing room. Lowering her voice she said, "Cousin, you do not seem surprised that the Duke of Norfolk joined our party tonight."

Susan smiled at her. "Of course I'm not. I invited him. Did I not mention it? I extended the offer when he came calling yesterday. "

Grace swallowed. "I was unaware that he would be here."

Susan gave her a knowing smile. "He will be staying for the musicale as well."

Grace drew in a sharp intake of breath. She gripped her cousin's arm harder at the news. "Please do not make me play first. I need time to compose myself."

Susan studied Grace, looking directly into her eyes, then gave a sharp nod. "Very well. I will move you in the programme. You may play fourth."

"Thank you," Grace said, barely managing to get the words out before Susan was off to the other side of the room, fussing about the pianoforte and sheets of music.

Lord Stanton found Grace and escorted her into the back row of chairs set for the musicale. "I look forward to hearing you play," he said, once he and Grace were settled into their chairs.

"I quite agree. I have it under very good authority that she sings like an angel when she plays the pianoforte," another voice said from the other side of Lord Stanton. It was none other than the duke.

Grace gulped, not knowing how she was going to calm her nerves. She was now more agitated, not less. Perhaps she should have just played first and gotten it over with, then begged to be excused. But it was too late now. The first woman sat on the bench in front of the ivory keys, looking toward the hostess for a cue of when to begin.

Susan was all smiles in front of the house party. She welcomed everyone with a gusto that didn't belie the fact that everyone in attendance had just eaten together. At the end of her prepared speech, she announced the order of the programme, and then said, "Lord Stanton, could we ask you if you would be so kind as to turn the pages for Miss Ramsey? It would be very much appreciated."

Miss Ramsey blushed, and Lord Stanton stood immediately and made his way to Miss Ramsey's side. As she began playing, Ollie—er, the duke—slid into Lord Stanton's vacant seat.

It took all of Grace's composure not to yelp aloud. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

Ollie smiled. "Enjoying the company of a beautiful woman next to me."

Grace stared forward, unwilling to respond. She tried to focus on the way Miss Ramsey played her scales throughout the piece.

"I have much to say to you, Grace."

She only shook her head.

"Please," he said, his voice a whisper.

Grace whispered through tight lips. "Everyone will hear our conversation."

Miss Ramsey finished her piece and the room filled with applause. Lord Stanton escorted Miss Ramsey to a chair, and Grace assumed that he would come back and rescue her from having to sit next to the duke for the duration of the programme. But Lord Stanton simply helped the next young woman to the pianoforte and turned pages for her as well. So, she would not find help from Lord Stanton until it was her turn to play.

At that the duke leaned closer as the second piece started, his lips hovering just above her ear. He spoke softly. "Is this better?"

The air from his breath tickled her neck. It was definitely not better. She didn't respond, only kept her eyes trained toward the pianoforte. But it was impossible to pay attention to anything except Ollie next to her.

"Why did you not receive me when I called on you?"

Grace turned toward him. This was the question he'd wanted to know? She had spent the entire dinner hour fretting about what he was going to say, and this was how he started out? A wave of embarrassment filled her, unwilling to let her go. "Why didn't you tell me who you really are?" It could have saved her feeling humiliated. Embarrassment still burned in her.

"I did try to, but there was never a good time," he said, looking a little uncomfortable.

"You had the chance to tell me on the terrace, or on the dance floor, and you didn't." Not to mention they'd had days of talking at the hunting lodge with no one else to interrupt their conversation.

"How could I show up as the duke when you invited Ollie?" he whispered back.

"It would have taken less than ten words to explain. You had ample opportunities."

"I apologize. I didn't want to let the moment go. "

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I really liked being just Ollie around you, not the duke."

"That's ridiculous. You are the duke. You were the duke the whole time."

"Yes, but you didn't know that. And it was refreshing to be seen in a true light."

Swirls of emotion spun around her like snow falling in a storm. She was disoriented. She'd spend almost the whole of the time in the cabin vocally processing her plan to impress the duke. She wanted to run away from this moment, to find somewhere to hide. "Were you laughing at me the whole time? For all the women that throw themselves at you?"

The duke did not answer right away. And Grace knew she already knew the answer.

Before he responded, the piece ended, and Lord Stanton made his way over to her row, waiting for her to come to the aisle, and then he escorted her to the bench.

Grace was grateful for the muscle memory that took over as her fingers touched the keys. She didn't sing. She couldn't trust her own voice.

Lord Stanton turned the pages too early, but it didn't matter. She'd committed this piece to memory already. She stumbled over her notes only when she looked up to see the duke's eyes watching her intently.

After that she focused on the notes on the sheets in front of her. They swam around on the page as she concentrated on not lifting her eyes from them .

When she finished the piece, she curtsied, and then Lord Stanton escorted her back to the row she'd been on, and left her to help the next young woman.

Instead of sitting down, she went to where Susan sat and let her know that she needed some fresh air for a moment but would return shortly. Her cousin nodded, and Grace took the liberty of letting herself onto the balcony from the back of room.

The air was frigid, pouring a cool calm into her. The drawing room had been far too stuffy. Far too many emotions …

The door clicked behind her, but she kept her back to the door.

"You'll catch a cold out here in this kind of weather," the duke's voice said quietly behind her.

She didn't turn around, just gripped the edge of the balcony for strength. "I've survived worse."

A low chuckle sounded. "Touché, Grace."

A warm, tingling filled her as he used her Christian name once again. But hurt crept through. "You lied to me."

"Only indirectly."

She let out a mirthless laugh. "Should that make me feel better?"

"No. But I never said I wasn't the duke. I never tried to purposefully deceive you."

"The way you talked about the duke …"

"It was unfair and deceptive. And there is no excuse for it, except to say that I had to keep my guard up at that point."

"Your guard up, against a woman?"

He came closer. "Yes. After all you were open with your plans."

She covered her face with her hands. "You were laughing at me. You still are."

"Grace, please look at me. I deeply and sincerely apologize for my behavior and for leading you on and not revealing my true identity sooner. But I wasn't laughing at you that day in the woods, or any of the other days since."

"I find that hard to believe, Your Grace." She knew things between them could never work. He'd been privy to her scheming plans and the fact still mortified her.

"I wasn't laughing at you, Grace," he said again, firmly. He put a hand on top of hers as it rested on the balcony. "I didn't come to call on you to laugh at you either. I came because I wanted to see you again. I wanted to explain in person."

Heat raced from where his hand covered hers, filling her with a familiar warmth in the cool evening air. "What did you want to explain?"

"I wanted to explain that I was trying to tell you who I was while we were dancing. That was what I wanted to talk to you about before we started dancing. I'm sorry, Grace."

"I accept your apology, but where does that leave us? You know all of my secrets. My intents."

"And I saw you conflicted about those intents. You cared for me—for Ollie—even when you made presumptions about my circumstance."

"I didn't mean to," she said. "I wasn't trying to form a connection with anyone before I met the duke ."

One corner of his lips quirked upwards. "And that is why I think we are right for each other—why I came calling on you after the ball. Fate brought me to you that day in the woods. I found you, Grace, and in turn I found grace in my life."

She swallowed. "I do not understand."

"I was mourning and grieving over a life that wasn't mine anymore. And then I found you. And you changed me. In such a short time. You helped me see that there was more to life … more that I didn't want to miss out on again."

"Why would you want me, when you could have your pick of anyone?"

"Because you came into my life for a reason. You brought a hope into my life that wasn't there before. You once said that if you had the ability to choose, you would want nothing more than to consider me a suitor. Did you mean that? Or were you simply saying the things a poor man in the woods would want to hear from a beautiful woman?"

A small smile formed on her lips, melting away the earlier anxieties she'd held onto. Ollie was using her own words to make his case. He was asking in earnestness. And she had this moment to choose exactly what she wanted for her life. Confusion and embarrassment whipped away from her in the wind, and she was left with clarity. "I think you know me well enough to believe that I have always spoken the truth with you. I have always been open with you, even about my mislaid plans. I meant it then, and I still mean it now."

He squeezed her hand, lifting it up and holding it in both of his. "Then trust that I also mean what I say, when I tell you that your openness is one of the things I admire about you."

"I developed feelings for you when I didn't know you were a duke, but I told you all about how I was planning to win over the duke. Do you not find that strange and slightly off-putting?" she asked, wanting to hear his reassuring words.

"Off-putting? You? I would never think such a thing. Quite the contrary, I believe you falling for me when you knew me simply as Ollie is a much greater compliment than you trying to win me over as a duke. I fell for the woman who saw me for who I really am." He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

She stayed in his arms, feeling his warmth and strength. "You did save my life, perhaps that is the reason I first fell in love with Ollie," she whispered.

An understanding passed between them. Ollie's blue eyes darkened with determination as he glanced at her lips. He searched her eyes for acceptance, and perhaps permission. Grace smiled and leaned the slightest amount closer to him.

He kissed her gently, his lips exploring hers. Warmth and heat spread through her, banishing the chilly evening. When they broke the kiss, he said, "I did save your life, but in the process, you've saved mine as well."

Love and excitement for their future encompassed Grace as she embraced the man in front of her. With her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer, drinking in more of his kisses.

"You know, if we get caught out here, you would be forced to marry me to save my reputation," she said softly, laughing at the thought.

"What was it you said? It wouldn't be the worst thing." He smiled at her. "But I do prefer to court you properly and prove to you that I can be the man in your life that will make you happy."

"I already know that about you. I knew it from the first day at your cottage."

"It's actually a hunting lodge," he said, smiling.

"Very well, I suppose that does make much more sense now."

"I love you," he said. "And I'm going to spend the rest of my days making sure you know how much it means to have you in my life, Grace."

"I love you, Ollie," she said, whispering the words against his lips and kissing him again.