Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

G race sat looking at the glass and composed herself. She wasn't consumed by her appearance, generally, but with her hair a mess, and her eyes swollen from the tears, she needed more than a little time in front of the glass. She took a small towel and dipped it into the basin, cleaning her face and hands.

Her neck still showed the residual white and red splotches from the emotion she'd let spill from her eyes, but at least her cheeks were starting to return to their normal state. She combed her hair quickly, determined to braid it and make it look more decent than it was.

The look in Ollie's eyes when he'd told her what happened to the duke's wife had shown real fear there. She'd seen it. Had he been concerned for her life like that? He had saved her life, and she would be eternally grateful for his act of heroism. He was the bravest, kindest man she'd ever had the privilege of meeting. Even now, he was sheltering her while the storm continued, day in and day out. She dabbed at her eyes once more, determined to remove the redness and make herself look more presentable.

When she was ready for bed, she surveyed the room. Ollie had been so generous to give up his room the past two nights, but with a renewed vigor, she positioned her crutch underneath her arm and hopped toward the door. She leaned against the wall, balancing as she held her crutch and tried to open the door.

But it gave way too easily and Ollie was on the other side of the door. His eyes softened when they took her in. "Grace, what are you doing?" he asked. "I can fetch you anything you need."

"I am glad to hear it because there is something I need," she said matter-of-factly, heading directly for the settee. Her progress was slow by herself.

He followed next to her. "Allow me to assist you," he said. He helped her to the settee, then sat beside her. He laid her crutch at her feet and asked, "How can I help?"

"I should like to make the settee my bed tonight. Could you bring me an extra blanket?" She smiled up at him.

"That is not necessary, Grace. The bed is much more comfortable than this settee."

"Exactly. You are much taller than I am. I imagine you cannot stretch out at all on this settee. Besides now that I am out here, I do not believe I should attempt walking back to the bedroom." She glanced at her foot, surprised at just how sore it felt from the small distance.

"I could always carry you," he said, lifting an eyebrow.

Her cheeks warmed at the idea. "Then what would become of this beautiful walking stick you made me? I should hate for it to go to waste."

"I do not like the idea of making a guest sleep on a settee. It is unheard of."

She laughed. It was such an absurd thing for him to say. "Next time you rescue a woman in the woods, you can make that a condition. But for now, I'm quite content to sleep out here. Besides, Apollo shall keep me company."

He studied her for a moment. "I can see you are not going to change your mind easily on this subject."

"Not at all," she said firmly.

He nodded once. "Very well. I shall bring you extra blankets and a pillow on one condition."

"What is that?"

"That you let me know if it is too uncomfortable for you to sleep out here."

"It will be comfortable enough."

"You will tell me if it isn't?" He eyed her, waiting for her to agree with him.

She nodded. "Very well. I will."

He stood, then went into the other room. He came back with an armful of blankets and a pillow. He helped arrange everything, making the settee look like a bed.

She slipped between the covers, pulling up the blankets to her neck. "How did you manage to sleep on this? I fit very well, but I cannot imagine you were comfortable at all."

He smiled at her. "I made do. And I would make do again, if need be," he said. "I brought the book out with me, in case you would like to continue our story hour." Then something crossed his face. "Of course, I understand if you do not wish to."

She noticed the small red-leather volume on the small table that he referred to. "I would enjoy that very much," she said, closing her eyes though she wanted to watch his expressions as he read. She felt a furry face on her middle and opened her eyes just slightly to see Apollo next to her, and Ollie scowling at the dog. She rubbed the top of his head and Ollie began reading again. His voice was soothing, the timbre rich and vibrant. With each sonnet he read, she relaxed a little more as she allowed his voice to carry her into sleep.

Grace awoke with a start. Blinking in the darkness she tried to make sense of what she'd heard. She was disoriented until she remembered she'd insisted upon sleeping on the settee. The wind blew outside, but that had not caused her to stir since her first night coming to the cottage. She sat up when she heard the noise again. Apollo's whimper came from somewhere in the darkness. Reaching behind her she found the small candle perched there, and lit the wick. It didn't illuminate much in the room, but Apollo wasn't next to her. She held the candle aloft when she heard the sound again. A terrified moaning, followed by Apollo's whimper in the far corner of the room.

Heart pounding, she put the candle back on the table and reached for her crutch. After some maneuvering she was out of the covers and leaning heavily on the crutch as she made her way to Ollie's bedroom.

Apollo's whimpers increased as Grace approached. "It's alright, Apollo," she whispered soothingly.

Another moan from behind the door came, and she knew immediately that things were not alright. Without knocking, Grace opened the door, and Apollo immediately bounded into the room.

"Ollie. It is me Grace," she said, announcing her presence. Apollo continued to whimper, and Grace moved farther into the room. "Are you hurt?"

He didn't answer.

Her eyes adjusted to the blackness, but she wished she'd brought the candle from the other room. She bumped into a chair but was able to catch herself from falling. She felt around the dressing table, and found a small candle, and lit it quickly.

She held up the candle and saw Ollie shaking, his face covered in beads of sweat, his eyes shut tightly.

Grace moved quickly toward the bed, pushing through the pain as she moved with the crutch. She gripped the candle holder tightly, putting it on the small side table before gently touching Ollie's shoulder. "Ollie. You must wake up. You are safe in your own home and in your own bed. You are having a bad dream."

Ollie's eyes flew open wildly. He sat straight up, his breathing ragged. Apollo barked and the sound seemed to snap Ollie out of the moment.

"You are going to be all right," Grace said soothingly. "You are safe inside from whatever happened in your nightmare. I'm here to help you." Grace said it as the reason why she was in his room in the middle of the night.

His face was as white as his sheets, his shirtsleeves drenched in sweat. He blinked hard, then finally let out a deep sigh.

Grace let out the breath she had been holding. He was coming out of the dream, coming back to reality. She could see it. "Shall I bring you a glass of water?" she asked.

He shook his head. He looked haggard.

Grace didn't want to overstep her boundaries, but she knew from experience that Ollie probably couldn't make the best decisions at the moment. She went to his wardrobe and pulled out a clean shirt. She handed it to him, then turned around. "You should change out of the shirt you are in. You do not want to catch a chill." She waited until she heard the movement of him changing.

"I have changed," he said, his voice tired.

She turned around and took a tentative step closer. "Would you like to talk about it? "

"No."

Grace studied him for a moment. "Apollo, up," she said, patting the foot of the bed.

"My dog doesn't sleep on my bed," Ollie said, just as Apollo obeyed Grace, and laid on his master's feet, looking up at him.

"I think Apollo will feel much better tonight if he can stay in here with you. He was whimpering at your door for quite some time."

Lines extended on his forehead and between his brows. "I am sorry he disturbed you."

Grace didn't respond to that. In truth, it wasn't Apollo that she'd heard to begin with. No one need apologize for having a nightmare—it was not something that could be controlled. Though there was usually some sort of trigger to them, she couldn't think what it might be since she didn't understand the situation. But speaking the truth might lead the conversation toward Grace prying for more information. And he'd already made it clear that he didn't want to discuss it. She left it alone to ponder later.

Instead, she picked up the book still on the table beside the bed. "Shall I read to you from this very fascinating book about native plants?"

"You think it's fascinating now?"

She smiled. "Oh it's riveting. Just the thing to put one to sleep."

"I enjoy the book, thank you very much."

Grace smiled at his words. His old humor seemed to come through. He was likely going to be alright, but she wanted to make sure for herself. "Then I shall read it for you." She sat in the same chair that he'd occupied on the previous nights he'd read to her. She'd had enough of the introduction, so she let the book fall open to somewhere in the middle. Turning a few pages, she found the beginning of a chapter, marked with a large number four and a decorated letter T. "The study of plants in their native land is a subject not to be discarded. Each unique plant is connected to those around it and therefore, deserves attention from both a general and a specific look of the area."

Grace continued reading the book, glancing up every few sentences to survey Ollie. His features were more relaxed, and his eyes were closed. She knew from experience that it could take a long time to recover from a nightmare, but she hoped that the familiarity of the words in this book would help soothe him. She read for nearly an hour until she could hear the shift in his breathing from shallow to deeper. She closed the book and rested it on her lap, caressing the spine as she watched Ollie for a while longer, sending up a silent prayer that he would be able to sleep comfortably for the rest of the night.

Apollo lifted his head when Grace stood up. She patted the dog's head, rubbing behind his ears. "Take care of your master tonight, Apollo," she whispered.

She looked back toward Ollie. He was sleeping now. She carefully lifted the covers over him, brushing aside the hair that fell over his brow. She pulled her hand back and her breathing raced. Touching Ollie while he was sleeping in his shirtsleeves was highly improper. She rubbed at where her fingers had made contact with his skin, but the tingling sensation still remained.

He stirred, and she stepped away from him, settling back into the chair and opening the botany book. She would read to him for a little longer just to make sure that he didn't have a repeat episode. Angling the book toward the short candle, she found her place, and continued to read about native flowers in the area.