XXXI

The morning light timidly filtered through the curtains of Marcus' bedroom. He had barely slept, and his thoughts still tormented him over what had happened the previous afternoon. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived the moment when Grace stumbled and fell into his arms. Their lips had brushed in that fleeting instant, leaving him anxious, desperate for more. He knew he couldn't go on like this, tangled in a lie that would eventually destroy him. But the memory of Grace in his arms, the softness of her skin, her shallow breathing... all of it pushed him to keep going, to want more, to risk everything.

The cold morning air lingered in the room, but the desire consuming him burned with an intensity he couldn't extinguish. The vulnerability gnawed at him. He was so close to her, yet at the same time, so far away. His thoughts intertwined with a mix of longing and guilt. "I can't keep up this charade," he told himself, but then the image of Grace materialized in his mind, and all his arguments vanished.

"Milord, you seem restless this morning," Simon commented as he entered the room with his usual carefree air. He carried a breakfast tray, but the sly smile on his face indicated he had something else in mind. "I bring good news."

Marcus observed him in silence, feeling a growing unease at the young man's sparkling gaze.

"What are you scheming now, Simon?" he asked, frowning, his hand gripping the cane as if holding on to it provided him some emotional stability.

"I've been thinking," Simon began as he placed the tray on a nearby table, "after what happened yesterday, it's best to seize the momentum, don't you think?"

Marcus pressed his lips together. He hadn't yet decided how to process what had happened the previous afternoon, let alone what to do about it.

"I don't want to keep playing this game," he replied, his tone weaker than he intended. "Every day, I feel more trapped."

"I know, milord," Simon said with an understanding smile, adjusting his master's cravat with a paternal gesture. "Your heart is telling you this is madness, but trust me, the most unexpected paths lead to the best destinations."

Westlin looked at him with a mix of distrust and resignation. Simon always had that ability to simplify things, to find the optimistic side even in the most absurd situations. But at that moment, he couldn't deny that his young servant's words struck something within him, something he'd been trying to ignore—the relentless desire to have Grace by his side again, to not let her slip away this time.

"So, what's your plan?" Marcus finally asked, giving in to his loyal servant's insistence.

The young man smiled even more broadly, as if he'd been waiting for that question.

"Well, milord, it's simple. Today, we'll pretend you're feeling a bit unwell... something that requires immediate care. And who better than Lady Grace to tend to you? I'll send her here while I go out to buy some herbs for your recovery."

Marcus frowned, though something inside him stirred at the mention of Grace's name. He knew it was a ridiculous idea, but the mere possibility of seeing her again, of feeling her near, made him forget, if only for a moment, how absurd the plan was.

"This can't possibly work," he muttered, rising slowly as Simon helped adjust his mask. "We can't keep hiding the truth for much longer."

"Trust me, milord, this will be the best chance to get closer to her," Simon responded as he helped Marcus lie back down and covered part of his body with a blanket. "Take advantage of these moments. It's clear there's something about you that she can't ignore."

Westlin knew his servant was right. Every time he was near Grace, he felt that a part of her recognized him, even if not consciously. And even though this was all a lie, something between them remained intact, something beyond the masks and false identities. It was that connection that kept him clinging to this deception. He wanted more, more of her, more of what he had lost.

Holloway adjusted his master's mask one last time and headed to the door, casting an encouraging glance before leaving.

"I assure you this will be the best for both of you, milord." And with a parting gesture, he left the room.

Marcus sighed, watching as the morning light slowly filled the room. He knew what he was about to do was risky, but he also knew he could no longer contain the desire consuming him. He had spent too much time without Grace, and now that she was so close, he wasn't willing to let her slip away again.

The morning had dawned peacefully in Strathmore, but inside the Collier house, the atmosphere was anything but calm. Grace tried to focus on the day's tasks, but her mind kept drifting back to the previous afternoon's walk and to Lord Haspirin. The closeness of that man, the soft brush of their lips... it all came back to her in waves of sensations she couldn't control.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. Grace stood up from her seat and walked to the entrance, where Holloway was waiting with a friendly smile on his face.

"Lady Grace, I apologize for the early disturbance," Simon began, bowing his head respectfully. "My lord isn't feeling well this morning. It seems that the discomfort from last night has worsened, and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind looking after him in my absence. I need to go and fetch some herbs for a tea that, hopefully, will help ease his condition."

Grace looked at him with a hint of surprise. She knew something had been off since their walk the day before, but this request took her off guard. Holloway's explanation seemed reasonable, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more behind it.

"Is... is he very unwell?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

Simon nodded gravely, though his tone still held the familiar carefree quality that always accompanied him.

"It's not serious, but he needs rest. I know my lord will feel much more comfortable knowing someone he trusts is by his side."

The comment unsettled her. "Someone he trusts?" Grace thought. She barely knew him, yet there was a strange familiarity between them that she couldn't deny.

Finally, she nodded. "Of course, I'd be happy to help," she responded, feeling slightly nervous but determined.

Simon smiled with satisfaction and guided her toward the marquess' residence. Upon arriving, a maid greeted them and led Grace to the room where Marcus—or rather, Lord Haspirin—was resting. That strange feeling of familiarity grew with every step she took; her heart beat faster.

When she entered the room, she was met with a scene she hadn't expected. Marcus lay in bed, propped up against a pile of pillows, the mask still covering half of his face. Despite his apparent frailty, there was something about his posture, the way he looked at her, that radiated power. A shiver ran down her spine, but it wasn't fear. There was something deeply alluring about him, something she couldn't quite decipher.

"Lady Grace." Westlin's voice was deep, and something in its tone sent a tremor through her. "Thank you for coming."

Grace slowly approached him, trying to maintain her composure. Though she wasn't sure what to expect, she had agreed to help because part of her wanted to understand why she felt so unsettled around this man.

"I'm glad I can be of assistance," she said, glancing around the room, looking for something she could do. "Is there anything you need?"

Westlin watched her closely. He couldn't stop thinking about what had happened the previous afternoon—the accidental brush of their lips, the desire left suspended between them. He felt vulnerable, but at the same time, that vulnerability drew him even closer to her.

"Could you... bring me the glass of water, please?" he asked, his voice thick with tension that didn't escape Grace's notice.

She nodded and walked to the table, where a glass of water sat next to a jug. She picked it up, and as she turned, their eyes met. There was something in his gaze that completely disarmed her, an intensity that made her tremble inside. She took a step toward him, but in her nervousness, she tripped, and in an attempt not to spill the water, she tumbled awkwardly toward the bed.

Their bodies collided, and Marcus caught her, holding her firmly to prevent her from falling completely. The glass of water hit the floor, but neither of them paid any attention to it. Their faces were mere inches apart, and Marcus' breathing grew ragged, just like Grace's. In that moment, the world disappeared for both of them.

The heat radiating from their bodies was palpable, and without thinking, Marcus pulled her closer, wrapping his hands around her waist. The kiss he had dreamed about the night before was about to happen, though this time, it wasn't accidental. It was deliberate, fueled by all the desire and passion he had been repressing for years.

Grace barely had time to react before her lips met Marcus'. The kiss was deep, intense, a release of everything both of them had been holding inside for so long. Their lips moved with an urgency neither could control, as if in that moment, the past crumbled away and only the present remained.

Grace gasped as she felt the intensity of the kiss. Her trembling hands gripped Marcus' shoulders, and the weight of the desire between them made her forget everything. The softness of his lips, the heat of his body—it was overwhelming. A fire that had long been dormant within her suddenly ignited, and she couldn't resist him.

The kisses became more urgent, Marcus' hands moving down her back as Grace let herself go, feeling her body respond to every touch. Each caress, each movement sent shivers down her spine. The years of distance between them seemed to vanish in that instant.

"Marcus..." Grace murmured between kisses, her voice barely a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

Marcus froze for a second upon hearing his name slip from Grace's lips. The sound of his name, spoken that way, hit him like a flood of emotions. She didn't know it was him, but in that moment, it was as if her soul had recognized him.

"Does she know?" Marcus thought, but logic told him it couldn't be. It was impossible for Grace to know the truth… and yet, the way she had said his name made him feel as though she had seen beyond the mask.

Grace, on her part, was unaware of what she had just said, lost in the overwhelming sensations that flooded her. But when Marcus' eyes met hers, something stirred deep within her. A spark of recognition, something long buried in her heart, began to surface slowly. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her… everything pulled her back to a time she had tried to forget, to a man she had thought lost forever.

"Grace…" Marcus whispered, his voice thick with desire and longing.

They stayed there, panting, locked in each other's gaze with an intensity that nearly overwhelmed them. Time seemed to stop for them, but reality crashed back in when they heard footsteps in the hallway.

Grace pulled away from Marcus abruptly. Her chest rose and fell with her uneven breathing. Her mind was in turmoil, her body still trembling from the desire she had felt, but also from the confusion of what had just happened.

At that moment, the door opened, and Simon appeared holding a tray, his smile wide.

"Lady Grace, thank you so much for looking after my lord. The tea is ready," he said cheerfully, though there was a hint of knowing amusement in his tone.

Grace, still shaken, stood up quickly, trying to compose herself.

"It was nothing," she replied, her voice shaky as she avoided Marcus' gaze. "I hope he feels better."

Before leaving, she glanced at Marcus one last time. He was still watching her, his intense gaze holding her captive. In his eyes, Grace saw more than just desire. She saw a man who had been waiting for this moment for a long time. A man who, in some way, knew her better than she realized.

Grace hurried out of the room, her heart pounding. Outside, the cool air hit her face, but it wasn't enough to quell the sensations that still coursed through her. Her lips burned, and the memory of Marcus' kiss haunted her with every step she took.

Simon, behind her, bowed slightly as he saw her out.

"Thank you again, Lady Grace. My lord couldn't be in better hands."

Grace nodded, but couldn't find the words to speak. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions she couldn't control. As she walked away from the house, she knew that kiss had changed everything. Something had awakened between them, something that wouldn't be easily ignored.

From the window, Marcus watched her leave, the desire still burning in his eyes. But beyond the desire, a doubt gnawed at him. Had she acted like that because she didn't recognize him, or because, deep down, she already knew who he was?

That question, along with the lingering heat of her kiss, would haunt him for the rest of the day.