Blinded by Grace: Book Five of the Cotillion Ball series (Crimson Romance) (13 page)

“Quite an evening, wouldn’t you say?” He tried to infuse his words with humor. Taken at face value, Grace could well be mortified by the way the evening had played out. He was hoping she could see beyond the events, and find a bit of fun.

She laughed softly, and Halwyn took a deep breath. She did see the humor. Thank God.

“I’m certain we’ll be the talk of the town for the next week, at the very least. My mother taking a nose-dive into her stewed fruit was a sight.” Her shoulders moved as she giggled with mirth.

“My mother has to keep things lively. She could have waited until I had time to talk to your parents alone. But that wouldn’t have had nearly the same shock value that her announcement did.” He chuckled.

Grace reached over and took his hand in the darkness. He was surprised at her action, and was grateful for the darkness. He certainly didn’t want Grace to get the mistaken idea that he disapproved of her behavior. Not when her hand fit his so neatly. And her skin was so exquisitely soft. He wove his fingers between hers.

“I guess this makes things official now,” she said. “I mean, our engagement was one thing, but now to have invited everyone to the wedding in July makes everything real. No turning back.”

“Unless Simon has yet another trick up his sleeve,” Halwyn replied.

“I think even Simon has to now admit defeat.” Grace settled herself next to Halwyn, placing her head on his shoulder.

“There is still one thing, though … ” Halwyn waved his cigar through the air, and both he and Grace followed the graceful arc of the burning tobacco with their eyes. “We still haven’t kissed to seal our engagement. If you’ll remember, Simon rudely interrupted us last time.”

He turned to gaze directly into her eyes. If he’d thought Grace taking hold of his hand was impetuous, his words to her now were tantamount to them jumping off a cliff. And yet, intriguing. She held his gaze steady, unafraid. His stomach began to jump, as did other body parts. He wondered again if her lips could be as soft as he imagined. Well, there was only one way to find out.

He stood, and ground out his cheroot with his boot. Then he turned to her and extended his hand. The hand she had released only moments earlier. She rose and stood beside him, gazing up at him expectantly.

“I think it’s time we take care of such an important tradition.” He ran his fingers lightly down her cheek, tracing her jaw line before he raised her chin. She reached up and removed his glasses.

“I’m close enough now. You won’t be needing these, Halwyn.” She smiled and closed her eyes.

He dipped his head and his lips brushed hers gently. Soft as a rose petal, as he suspected. She moaned slightly and he deepened the kiss, tasting her lips completely. His tongue sought entrance, and her lips parted of their own accord. Emotion ripped through his body unexpectedly as she quivered under his touch. Her hands encircled his neck, and his arms moved around her, holding her close. He’d held women before, but this time, things were different. He tried to sort out why for only a moment before he slid into the embrace and let loose his riotous emotions. She tasted of nectar and he was a honeybee, buzzing back for more, time and again.

The pair broke apart at the same time, and stared at each other. Grace handed him back his glasses, which he replaced on the bridge of his nose before clearing his throat.

Grace’s eyes shone in the darkness. “Well, I guess we’re all official now,” she squeaked.

“I’d say so,” he replied, skimming his hand down her cheek again before taking a step back.

Halwyn had the feeling the next twelve months were going to be a long ordeal. Now since he’d sampled a bit of her, could he live under the same roof and not want to taste all of her?

Halwyn helped Parr saddle up the horses for the morning’s ride. The ladies were in another part of the stables, preparing their mounts. George Fitzpatrick ran his hand down the neck of the horse selected for Halwyn to ride. The horse was restless, and ready to run.

“Halwyn, let’s trade horses. I’m not so old that I don’t appreciate a lively mount.”

“Are you certain, Father? This horse was a handful yesterday, and he’s prancing around here today even more than before.”

“I can handle him. After all, I’ve managed to raise nine children, haven’t I?”

“But you spread your offspring out, and you’re not done raising them all yet, Father. Don’t let Simon’s remarks from yesterday goad you into riding a mount that you can’t handle.”

His father hoisted himself into the saddle of the stallion. “For God’s sake, son, I can handle one fidgety horse. Climb onto the tame one and let’s go meet up with the ladies.”

Halwyn shrugged his shoulders, put his foot into the stirrup, and lifted his leg over the horse. Once his father made up his mind, there was no talking to him, which was part of what made him such a good businessman. He set a course of action and then pursued the chosen course until he reached his end goal. If his goal today was to prove he was still young enough to ride a spirited horse, Halwyn would not stand in his way.

The men reached the paddock where the other horses and riders were waiting. Charlotte and Grace rode over to George and Halwyn. George was having trouble controlling his horse in the close quarters.

“What are you doing on the most rambunctious mount in the entire stable?” Charlotte admonished her husband. “He’s too much of a horse for you.”

“Nonsense, dear. Once we get into the open, he’ll settle down. He’s simply nervous in the corral.”

“Once you get into the open, he’ll throw you off his back and run off. Give him to Halwyn and you get on his nice, gentle horse. Enough of this foolishness,” Charlotte said sternly to her husband.

“As you wish, dear,” he replied as he dismounted and handed the reins to his son. George glanced at his wife. “You know I can deny you nothing.”

Charlotte’s smile widened as Halwyn got down from his tame horse and took charge of the spirited one. George and Charlotte left the paddock area, riding out together.

Halwyn shook his head at Grace. “My parents still act as if they’re newlyweds, even to this day.”

“I think they’re sweet together. I hope one day to have a similar relationship with my husband.”

Halwyn didn’t have much time to contemplate Grace’s meaning as his focus shifted when his horse reared up on his back legs. “Whoa!” He managed to control the horse, and checked to make certain Grace was not harmed. “I’m certainly glad Father and I switched horses. I hope this one settles soon, or I’m going to be in for one difficult ride. And I was planning on spending the afternoon talking to you, not attempting to control a wayward horse.”

As the pair led the horses from the paddock area, Halwyn noticed Parr carefully eying his horse. Parr raised his hand to Halwyn, and he saluted back. He turned to begin his afternoon’s conversation with Grace just as his horse darted through the open gate and galloped down the path, his hoofs ringing out as they came into contact with hard rock on the sides of the path. Halwyn had been loosely holding the reins, but he now grabbed on tightly and pulled hard. The horse paid no attention.

Nothing stopped the horse’s headlong dash, or careening behavior. Halwyn hung onto the horse’s mane as the landscape whizzed by. His breath came out in a series of grunts as he hit hard on the saddle, but he managed to stay seated. His heart pumped hard as he attempted to control his mount. Surely the horse would run out of steam soon. The stallion’s pace seemed to be slowing after a mile or so, and Halwyn breathed a sigh of relief, loosening his grip on the reins as his knees unclenched. The horse ran on a short ways, before abruptly turning and rearing up again with a loud whinny. Halwyn was tossed into the air, as if he were a rag doll.

• • •

Grace tried to keep Halwyn’s horse in her sights, and had nearly caught up to him when the horse reared up and tossed Halwyn from his saddle. She screamed as Halwyn flew through the air and landed on the hard ground. She brought her horse to a halt and ran to Halwyn’s side. He was still breathing, but he had lost consciousness. She ran her hands over his arms and legs, searching for broken bones, and noticed one leg was pinned under him at an odd angle.

Other riders came up behind her, and she cried out to the group. She was relieved to see Dr. Alexander among the riders. He jumped off his horse and dropped to his knees to examine Halwyn.

“He’s got a broken leg, most definitely. Possibly a concussion. I wouldn’t be surprised, considering how hard this ground is. But, for now, let’s get a splint on his leg and move him to the house. Gentlemen, if some of you can gather up solid branches which we can use, and someone else ride back to the stable and fetch a cart.”

“Will he live?” Grace ran her hand over Halwyn’s pale face, and picked up his broken glasses from the ground.

“More than likely. But I need to examine him more thoroughly, and talk to him when he wakes up. What happened, anyway? Halwyn’s an excellent rider.”

“His horse was acting up from the moment Halwyn mounted up this morning. As soon as the horse got a glimpse of the open gate, he ran as if he were being chased by the very devil himself. Oh, poor Halwyn.”

The doctor straightened out Halwyn’s leg as best he could, and directed the men on the formation of the splint.

Parr rode up, followed by the cart, and helped lift Halwyn into the conveyance. Once the cart began to move back to the house, Parr turned to Grace.

“Which way did the horse go, Grace? Do you remember?”

She pointed to the woods off to her right. “He ran into the trees, smashing into the trunks as he ran. If Halwyn hadn’t fallen off when he did, he could have been in much worse shape. What is wrong with the horse?”

“I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out,” Parr replied as he took off into the woods, following the line of broken tree branches marking the horse’s panicked, headlong flight.

Grace was joined by Charlotte and George Fitzpatrick and all rode quietly alongside the cart for the short distance back to the house. Grace glanced at Charlotte, as tears filled her eyes.

“I’m so worried. Halwyn hasn’t woken up, or reacted at all, even when the doctor was repositioning his leg. He whimpered in pain, but didn’t cry out.”

Charlotte reached over and patted Grace’s hand. “My years as a mother have taught me Halwyn’s unconsciousness is for the best right now, dear. Until the doctor gets his leg properly set and administers some medicine, he should remain unconscious. The body has a remarkable way of dealing with pain.”

“But what if he doesn’t wake up? Oh, this is all my fault.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I don’t know, exactly. But I somehow think this is tied into the wedding announcement of last night. The timing of the events is too coincidental.”

Charlotte put her hand to her heart. “How could a rambunctious horse be tied into your wedding plans? You mean, I could have caused this, with my impetuous announcement?”

“I’m not certain. But I would put nothing past Simon. If Halwyn doesn’t recover from this, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Nor will I,” Charlotte replied. “All we can do right now, though, is to hope for the best, and pray. Come along, Grace, the house is in sight.”

Halwyn was carried into the house, followed by the doctor. Grace glanced back at the path, searching for Parr. If something was wrong with the horse, Parr would find out. Grace’s body trembled uncontrollably and the unpleasant, metallic taste of fear invaded her mouth. Simon was involved in this, somehow. Her gut told her so. She should never have involved the Fitzpatricks, and especially dear Halwyn, in her life and in her troubles. The fine Fitzpatrick family didn’t deserve this.

But then, neither did she.

Grace was of no help in the sickroom, at least until Halwyn woke up, so she took up a spot on the wide porch, anxiously awaiting Parr’s return. She paced back and forth, pausing for a moment at the loveseat near the edge of the porch. Only last night she and Halwyn had kissed for the very first time on this same porch, to seal their engagement. Only last night, but a lifetime ago. This entire nightmare was the result of the engagement and the announcement of their wedding plans, she was certain! Her pacing became even faster. Simon’s wrath was apparent in this latest fiasco, even if the evidence was lacking. He’d stop at nothing to gain control of her trust. Hopefully, Parr would find something to link the horse’s behavior to Simon, and he’d be locked away from society, as he should be.

The rest of her life would not be enough time to pay Halwyn back for his generosity and unselfish response to her rash request for assistance. She pulled his broken glasses out of her pocket. She would take care of getting a new pair for him, first thing. It was the least she could do. She ran her fingers over the glass frames and her tears began anew. They were shattered, much like their owner.

Finally, she caught sight of Parr, leading the horse Halwyn had ridden into the stables. Grace ran from the porch to the stables and caught up with him as he tossed the reins of his own horse to a stable boy. Still leading Halwyn’s mount, he walked the horse into a stall and began to check him over again. The horse still was acting strangely, blowing hard and his eyes were wild. Anger was radiating off Parr as his hands slid over the horse. Grace caught the movement of Parr’s jaw muscle as it tightened while he examined the stallion.

“Is something amiss with the horse, Parr?”

His gaze left the horse for a second as he glanced at Grace. “Yes, the horse has been figged. Now I just need to figure out who the culprit is.”

Grace put her hand on her stomach. Her gut reaction was correct, even if she didn’t know what “figged” meant. The horse had been tampered with.

“What do you mean, ‘figged’?”

“Figged means someone put some ginger up this horse’s arse.” Parr’s voice was low and even, but Grace could pick up his barely controlled rage. “Makes the horse wild until the ginger either is removed or dissolves.”

“Will there be any long-term damage to the horse, Parr?”

Parr gestured to the horse. “Take a good long look at him. He’s battered and bruised in his front quarters. Could have easily broken a leg, or worse, from his headlong flight through the woods and we would’ve had to put him down. And this horse is prime breeding stock for our stables. I’ve managed to dislodge the ginger, so he’ll settle soon enough. But if I find out Simon tampered with him, all hell will break loose. I’d put nothin’ by that bastard.” He tore his gaze from the horse to glance at Grace. “Beggin’ your pardon, Grace, but your stepfather is not a very nice man.”