pockets of his trousers. “I am a bloody fool.”
Stephen watched Grace until she disappeared around a corner, his heart heavy in his chest, his senses dulled to the world around him. There was no price he would not pay, no deed he would not do, to go back in time and erase the hurt he had caused. To right the wrongs he had created. For one brief, shining moment he had thought that when Grace saw him again all would be forgiven, but that hope had been crushed the moment he saw the loathing in her eyes. The loathing, and the fear.
It had been the latter that had done him in. Hate and disgust? Two things that could be overcome with time and patience. But fear?
Fear was like a vicious weed. Once it took root some part of it always lingered, even when it was pulled out again and again. It corrupted even the gentlest of hearts, turning them cold as stone and twice as hard.
He would do well to leave now. Disappear as he had before, fading away as completely as the sun did come the night. There was nothing for him here. And yet… And yet what if there was a way he could explain everything?
What if there was a way around the vow he had sworn never to break? The vow he had made to protect another woman. The vow that had in one breath saved one life while destroying another. Did he dare risk it all?
Stephen’s jaw clenched. His eyes, always as green as the leaves come full summer, darkened and stormed. His entire body vibrated with tension, and people walking past suddenly gave him a wide berth and hurried their step.
Did he dare risk it all ?
Yes. Yes he did.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grace stared at her reflection in the full length mirror and shook her head from side to side. “No,” she announced. “I must change at once. This is not at all suitable.” And much too revealing , she added silently.
The ball gown was simple in design. It boasted an empire waist, a low oval neckline, and puffed cap sleeves that ended several scandalous inches above her elbow. It was with the sheerness of the material that the problem arose. Comprised of one thin layer of satin – the cost of which Grace did not even want to fathom – it was then covered with silk netting that had been threaded with gold. The gown was undeniably beautiful, of course… In addition to being all but see through!
She twisted her arms around and began to pluck desperately at the long row of stays, but Josephine took her hands and pushed them firmly away.
“Stop that.” Stepping to the side so she could study the mirror unhindered, Josephine arched one eyebrow in approval. “You look enchanting.”
“I look naked!” Grace protested.
Josephine nodded. “A bit.”
“Oh, you do not look naked.” From across the room Catherine held up a gold necklace that sparkled like liquid fire in her hands. “Here,” she said, walking to Grace and fastening the jewelry carefully around her exposed throat. “This perfects it.”
Grace, who already felt as though she were floundering beneath the gown which was quite light in weight, but exorbitantly heavy in price, set her mouth into a frown and shook her head again. “No, I cannot. Catherine, you already paid for the gown and that necklace belonged to your mother.”
“If it makes you feel better I am not giving it to you, merely lending it for the night.”
“It does not make me feel better,” Grace muttered. “And Margaret would agree with me. This is all too much.”
“It is not too much,” Catherine said.
“Besides,” Josephine chirped from across the room where she was now digging unashamedly through Catherine’s jewelry case, “Margaret is not even here.”
It was true. The day before Margaret had returned to the country citing an aggrieved case of morning sickness, which Grace knew for a fact to be completely false. Expecting or not the redheaded Duchess was healthy as a horse; she just had little patience for the crowded streets of London and craved the simplicity and
Stephen watched Grace until she disappeared around a corner, his heart heavy in his chest, his senses dulled to the world around him. There was no price he would not pay, no deed he would not do, to go back in time and erase the hurt he had caused. To right the wrongs he had created. For one brief, shining moment he had thought that when Grace saw him again all would be forgiven, but that hope had been crushed the moment he saw the loathing in her eyes. The loathing, and the fear.
It had been the latter that had done him in. Hate and disgust? Two things that could be overcome with time and patience. But fear?
Fear was like a vicious weed. Once it took root some part of it always lingered, even when it was pulled out again and again. It corrupted even the gentlest of hearts, turning them cold as stone and twice as hard.
He would do well to leave now. Disappear as he had before, fading away as completely as the sun did come the night. There was nothing for him here. And yet… And yet what if there was a way he could explain everything?
What if there was a way around the vow he had sworn never to break? The vow he had made to protect another woman. The vow that had in one breath saved one life while destroying another. Did he dare risk it all?
Stephen’s jaw clenched. His eyes, always as green as the leaves come full summer, darkened and stormed. His entire body vibrated with tension, and people walking past suddenly gave him a wide berth and hurried their step.
Did he dare risk it all ?
Yes. Yes he did.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Grace stared at her reflection in the full length mirror and shook her head from side to side. “No,” she announced. “I must change at once. This is not at all suitable.” And much too revealing , she added silently.
The ball gown was simple in design. It boasted an empire waist, a low oval neckline, and puffed cap sleeves that ended several scandalous inches above her elbow. It was with the sheerness of the material that the problem arose. Comprised of one thin layer of satin – the cost of which Grace did not even want to fathom – it was then covered with silk netting that had been threaded with gold. The gown was undeniably beautiful, of course… In addition to being all but see through!
She twisted her arms around and began to pluck desperately at the long row of stays, but Josephine took her hands and pushed them firmly away.
“Stop that.” Stepping to the side so she could study the mirror unhindered, Josephine arched one eyebrow in approval. “You look enchanting.”
“I look naked!” Grace protested.
Josephine nodded. “A bit.”
“Oh, you do not look naked.” From across the room Catherine held up a gold necklace that sparkled like liquid fire in her hands. “Here,” she said, walking to Grace and fastening the jewelry carefully around her exposed throat. “This perfects it.”
Grace, who already felt as though she were floundering beneath the gown which was quite light in weight, but exorbitantly heavy in price, set her mouth into a frown and shook her head again. “No, I cannot. Catherine, you already paid for the gown and that necklace belonged to your mother.”
“If it makes you feel better I am not giving it to you, merely lending it for the night.”
“It does not make me feel better,” Grace muttered. “And Margaret would agree with me. This is all too much.”
“It is not too much,” Catherine said.
“Besides,” Josephine chirped from across the room where she was now digging unashamedly through Catherine’s jewelry case, “Margaret is not even here.”
It was true. The day before Margaret had returned to the country citing an aggrieved case of morning sickness, which Grace knew for a fact to be completely false. Expecting or not the redheaded Duchess was healthy as a horse; she just had little patience for the crowded streets of London and craved the simplicity and
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