Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

G race sat on the settee, listening to the clanking of saucers and cups as she sat helplessly by the fire. For a moment she considered following Ollie into the kitchen, using her crutch, but then decided against it. Something had shifted between her and Ollie, and somehow she felt it best to wait where she was. She made a small clicking sound with her tongue, and Apollo's head moved in her direction, ears perked.

"Come here, Apollo."

The dog obeyed, coming close to Grace. She patted his head, and his tail wagged.

"You're a good boy, aren't you? Yes, you are, and not a wolf after all," she said to the dog.

Apollo laid his head in Grace's lap, his eyes expressive. Grace rubbed the top of his head, not fully able to reach down the entirety of the dog's body from where she sat. The dog's eyes closed as she scratched between his ears, stroking his soft fur.

"Apollo is not a lap dog," Ollie said when he came back into the room with the tray.

Grace looked at Ollie, and seeing his smile knew that he wasn't displeased with her attention to the animal. "And he is not sitting on my lap like a small dog."

Ollie grunted. "You'll spoil him."

"I doubt that, I've seen you give him a lot of attention," she said. She scratched behind his ears again, and Apollo closed his eyes. "Who's a good puppy? Yes, you are, Apollo. A very good dog."

Apollo laid his head back in Grace's lap.

Ollie poured her a cup of tea, not asking how she liked it, just remembering how she took it. He held out the cup and saucer to her, and she scratched Apollo's head once more before patting it gently, and then accepting the drink.

"Apollo, come. Let Grace drink her tea," Ollie said, as he poured his own cup.

Apollo didn't move.

Grace willed herself not to laugh at Ollie's frustration as the dog was content with her. She took another sip of her tea, pretending to ignore Ollie's continual commanding to the dog. Finally, she looked at the dog in the eyes, patted him on the head again, and said, "Apollo, Ollie could use some attention." She pointed to where Ollie sat in his chair, and the dog wagged his tail and went to his master.

Ollie scowled at Apollo. "Traitor. "

At that Grace laughed, nearly spilling her tea. "Oh, he is no such thing. I think he's very loyal, aren't you, Apollo? Such a good boy."

The dog wagged his tail, his tongue lopping out of his mouth at the praise from Grace.

Grace smiled triumphantly.

Ollie shook his head and patted his dog.

Grace stirred her tea with a spoon. "Now that I know that you will keep my secret, will you tell me about the duke?"

Ollie's eyes changed. She'd seen this happen several times since she had arrived. At first, she couldn't name it, but now, it looked like he was being guarded. His square jaw worked back and forth, probably in an unconscious manner, and Grace wondered about that. It was not as if she were a threat, was she? After all, she had no intention of telling anyone about their time together either. Their mutual secret was safe.

He smiled, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes the way it had when he'd been laughing and sharing a joke with her. "What would you like to know? I will see if I can be useful, though I cannot answer all questions about him."

She hadn't expected him to answer all of her questions. She didn't think he could truly know the duke that well. And that gave her pause. What if Ollie didn't know the duke? Or he was teasing her for his own amusement? She tamped down her momentary doubts. "How old is he?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Surely you know this already. "

She swallowed. "I want to know that I can trust your information." And she needed to go back and reread her cousin's letters, but most of them were back in her trunks. Her cousin had always sent news of the people in her town. Surely, she could have just waited until she'd gotten to her cousin's house.

Ollie smiled knowingly. "He's twenty-nine. How old are you?"

She raised her eyebrow. "I thought you said you weren't going to tell him anything about me."

"I shall not tell him that we've spoken. We've already established how terrible it would be for both of us if we were forced to marry one another." He raised his eyebrows.

She swallowed. It was the forced to marry part that she had a problem with, and the scandal that such an arrangement would spread … but, time together with Ollie wasn't unenjoyable. She blinked, unwilling to verbalize or think further on that. "Then why should you like to know my age?"

He leaned back in his chair, looking completely at ease. His manner was always easy, as if he didn't have a care in the world. As if everything about this cottage made him content. She envied that carefree attitude.

"I should like to have a conversation with you, Grace. Only answering questions makes me feel like I am being accused of a crime. You said I have no tact in the way I treat the fairer sex, and so I am practicing. Help me by answering a question for each one you ask. "

She looked at him thoughtfully. There was a light in his eyes, and she quite liked that. And she could help him practice conversing while she was in his house. Perhaps one day he would meet someone he fancied, and this time of practicing, as he called it, would suit him. "I suppose there is not harm in helping a friend. Very well, I accept your terms. I am twenty-three years old."

He raised his eyebrow. "You do not look twenty-three," he said matter-of-factly.

She shook her head, a laugh escaping. "These are precisely the kind of statements that you should not say to a woman. Asking her age is impertinent enough."

"So it is not impertinent if a woman asks about age, but it is when a man does?" he challenged.

She laughed. "Oh it's impertinent both ways, but I'm not asking your age, or commenting on how you don't look that age. I'm asking the duke's age."

He laughed. "Ah, now I see the difference."

She bit her lip, curiosity niggling into her. It shouldn't matter what Ollie thought. It didn't. But still, the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Do I look older or younger than twenty-three, in your opinion?"

He smiled, the warmth from his look filling her like a cup of perfectly brewed hot tea. "That depends. For which answer will I get in less trouble?" His eyes danced with mirth.

She rolled her eyes and threw a small pillow at him. It missed him, and Apollo looked toward her, ears perked. "You are very incorrigible."

"I think my governess would agree with you."

"You had a governess?" Somehow, she had not considered that before. Not that she had thought much about Ollie's growing up years.

"Why is that surprising?"

It felt as though tea was stuck in her throat. "It's not, it's just … I hadn't thought … considering your home." She gestured around. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend. I did not mean to sound surprised."

Oliver studied Grace. She was very pretty when she was flustered. Somehow the perfect poise and grace she possessed was ruffled, and he liked it. He was not offended by her words. On the contrary, she wouldn't have been far from the mark, if this had been his true home. No one would have considered someone living in such humble circumstances to have had a governess. Perhaps it was good to keep her guessing about himself, while she was interested in the duke.

"I am not offended at all," he said, smiling.

She nodded. "Thank you for your generosity."

He could tell that there was still an awkwardness around her, but he wasn't ready to stop talking for the evening. He was playing a dangerous game, but a few more questions wouldn't hurt, would they? Not if he was able to learn about her in the process.

"How old do you think I am?" he asked, going back to their earlier question.

She pressed her lips together as if keeping in a secret. "I do not think it would be wise to guess. At any rate, I shall not be able to say with any certainty. I do not think you are twenty years my senior," she said, laughter returning into her eyes at the jest.

He smiled. "You are right on at least that account. I am twenty-nine."

"The same age as the duke," she said.

He nodded, unwilling to say those same words back.

She tapped her chin, as if thinking hard about a puzzle. "Ah, that's how you know about him. You must have been at the same schools growing up?"

He spoke slowly, measuring each word. "We attended the same schools."

"And are the rumors true? Does he like dancing? Would dancing be a way into his heart?"

He took the question, and looked for a way to be objective about the topic. Would it be? "I believe it would be a way to gain his favor, yes. The duke is notorious for his superior dancing, as you already know."

"And you've known him a long time?" she pressed.

He swallowed. He wouldn't lie. He would never lie to Grace. "I cannot remember a time when I didn't know him. "

She nodded. "And was his … wife … a good dancer?"

The cup and saucer trembled in his hand. He took a quick sip of tea, then set the cup and saucer onto the table. "That is not a question about the duke."

Her eyes widened. "You're right. It's not. I … I am sorry. It was not appropriate to pry. Besides, she must have been a good dancer. I imagine she would have been."

He took a long breath, wishing there was somewhere for the pain to go. "She was the most beautiful dancer."

"What happened to her, if you don't mind my asking," she said softly.

"Are you testing me again? You likely know what happened."

She shook her head, sincerity in her features. "I do not. I have never asked about it. It feels irreverent to ask about it."

"But you're asking a stranger in the woods."

"We're friends, Ollie, not strangers," she said with determination.

He swallowed. "A riding accident. Horse threw her, and she hit a tree." He kept his voice even, neutral. "The duke tried to help her, but there was nothing he could do. She was gone before the doctors arrived."

Grace gasped, her hand covering her throat. "That's dreadful."

He only nodded. Dreadful. Terrible. Tragic. Those were words that didn't even come close to describing the horror. He took a sip of his tea, and took a small bite of the bread.

"It's your turn to ask me a question now," she said .

He gave her a small smile. "I do not think I can think of any more questions tonight."

She nodded, her eyes sad. "I am sorry I upset you. I didn't mean to upset you."

The air between them felt heavy. "You didn't upset me. But retelling her story made me think how panicked I was when I found a woman alone in the forest two days ago. When I think of what happened to the duke's wife …" He swallowed the rest of the sentence. Emotion rose in his throat, and he stood in front of her, his words clawing. "Something very dangerous could have happened to you. You were foolish for riding away from the safety of your party."

Her eyes seemed to spark at his words. "Foolish? From my understanding, it was half a day's ride on a good road." Her voice was full of challenge.

He narrowed his eyes, his pulse racing. "You could have been seriously hurt. Or worse."

She straightened, her voice rising. "Thankfully, I wasn't and I am healing, as you see."

Anger rose inside of him at her lack of understanding. Could she not see the error of her ways? Suddenly his lodge felt too confined, the space between them too tense. "I'm going to feed the horses," he said, not waiting for an answer before he stormed from the lodge and into the storm without his great coat.

He took his time in the stable, using the full length of the building to pace back and forth after feeding the horses. Finally, he returned to his hunting lodge. Opening the front door, he saw Grace staring toward the window. Two steps into the room, their gazes locked on each other.

"I am sorry I shouted," Grace said, her words rapidly tumbling out. "I should not have done such a thing. It was most uncalled for."

He crossed the distance between them, coming to stand close to her. Then on an impulse he knelt down in front of her. "I am sorry that I called you foolish."

She put a hand on his arm, her eyes shining as she shook her head. Her lips trembled as she spoke. "You are right. I was foolish. And I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am for that choice."

He glanced toward the blanket where her ankle was elevated with a pillow. "Because now you won't be able to dance and impress the duke, I know."

Her eyes widened, then her lashes fluttered rapidly. "That's not it at all. I'm sorry for the situation I'm in and for the situation I've put you in. I'm sorry that you are sleeping on this settee while I commandeer your room. I've been a burden on you. I've been a burden on my family. And yes, that means I'm sorry that my ankle is in such a state because I had hoped to get myself out of this situation. Instead I've just made everything worse." A few tears streaked down each of her cheeks, falling off when they reached her jawline.

His heart swelled. "Don't cry," he said softly.

"I'm not crying," she said with fire as she wiped away the evidence of tears from her cheeks. She turned away from him. "I know I was foolish. And though I'm sorry for all of the trouble I've been for you, I'm grateful you saved me. And you chased after my wild horse. I am indebted to you. Thank you."

Her hand moved down from where she'd been holding his arm, sliding until her ungloved fingers touched his. She took his hand in both of hers and then kissed the back of his hand. A tear fell onto one of his knuckles, as if to quell the fire that had roared to life in the spot where she'd kissed him.

"I am glad that you are safe," he said, taking his hand from hers and wiping away a few of her tears with his thumb. Her skin was soft to his touch. His fingers cradled her soft jawline for only a moment, and he convinced himself that wiping away a few more tears was an excuse. "Do not cry. You are safe now."

She took a deep breath. "Thank you, Ollie."

"Allow me to help you to your room."

She nodded, and he gave her the crutch and helped her to stand. He stayed close to her, offering his support as he escorted her to the room. He helped her to the chair where her other dress lay so she could change for bed.

"I will be just outside if you need anything," he said, before closing the door behind him.