Romancing the Rogue (114 page)

~~~~

So close! Ewan had been so close to finding the perfect moment to press his suit, but no. Again Shiply intervened and stole the moment away from him. The only reason he hadn’t challenged the arrogant cad to a duel was the bewitching look that came from Grace that would have made a saint sin with lust.

Her eyes had glowed with desire, and Ewan had used every ounce of self-control to not take her lips with his own, in front of Shiply; especially in front of Shiply. But he was honest in his endeavor of being worthy of Grace, which meant he must be the gentleman and put her before himself. But how difficult it was, when she continued to cast him glances where he swore he could see her soul buried in the green of her gaze.

He smiled, as he knew one thing for certain. He indeed did have hope in winning Grace’s heart.

As Grace prepared for the famed Kringle Ball, she thought back over the past week. Indeed, Miss Rachel had proven to be the friend she had hoped. Already they had become fast friends, and Grace was thankful that Ewan had run into her.

She laughed gently at the thought, but her amusement was short-lived. A furrow etched itself in her brow as she thought over the frequent subtle questions Rachel had asked regarding Shiply. She had answered her questions as best as possible but found it difficult because, well, as she answered the questions she discovered she didn’t know Shiply well at all. It was a shocking revelation, amplified by the contrast with her ability to answer any and every question Rachel occasionally asked about Ewan.

Although her heart hadn’t been engaged in the courtship Shiply had paid to her, she also hadn’t ended it. Ewan had indeed spent more time with her, but the hope she had felt earlier at the Lordington ball was fast fading as Ewan’s behavior toward her was lacking the seduction he began at the ball. He was far too much of the gentleman, far too reserved, far too unlike the Ewan she knew.

Gone was the rake and rogue who would flirt shamelessly, and replacing him was a perfect gentleman. Grace found she missed the old Ewan, and wondered what had caused such a profound change.

Although his actions said he was paying her court as well, she didn’t know for sure. He had not stated his intentions nor spoke with her parents, as far as she knew. It had been a confusing week, and Grace was frustrated.

“Mother?” Grace asked as Lady Jarvais walked into her room. She was beautifully dressed in a red velvet gown trimmed with gold-braided trim. On her head was a thin veil that had white ostrich feathers gracing the top.

“Yes, love?” Lady Jarvais asked as she inspected Grace’s dress. “You look stunning. I’m sure Shiply will be pleased.” She spoke with tenderness as she caressed her daughter’s arm and studied her with a proud smile.

“Yes, well… I believe I have a problem…” Grace trailed off, unsure of how much to share with her mother.

“What is it, darling?” she asked, sitting down next to her and waiting patiently.

“What if… I mean…” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “What if Shiply isn’t exactly what I want? What if there was another who… another to whom I was attracted?” she asked hesitantly as she lowered her eyes and smoothed out the lines of her silk gown.

“No one is requiring you to accept Shiply’s attentions, dear,” her mother replied gently.

“I know, but… though I know I should like him and be thankful because he’s a perfectly respectable gentleman, my heart is holding on to a fantasy, and Mother, I…”

“You don’t know if you should settle or not?” Lady Jarvais added helpfully.

“Does that sound horrid? I sound vain and arrogant when it’s said that way, but it is how I feel,” Grace replied miserably. She lifted her gloved hands and covered her eyes.

“No, love, you don’t sound vain.” Lady Jarvais smoothed Grace’s wheat-colored hair from her face. “Sometimes the heart is simply wiser than the head, but also, sometimes the reverse is true as well.”

Confused, Grace looked at her mother. “But which is true of me, now? Which is wiser, my head or heart? My head says be thankful and forget about my heart, and my heart says the opposite.” A lone tear trailed down Grace’s cheek, followed by a sister tear on her other cheek.

“Dear…” Lady Jarvais pulled her daughter into an embrace. “These things have a way of working out. As of yet, Shiply hasn’t asked for your hand, so you have time, love. Time to discern the wisdom of both your head and your heart. As for Shiply, he wouldn’t be allowed around my daughter if I didn’t think him worthy of your attention. As for the other…” Lady Jarvais wiped Grace’s tears away. “I believe Ewan is equally as worthy, or else I wouldn’t have allowed him around here as long as I have.”

Grace gasped.

She smiled. “You’re my daughter, love, it’s my job to know your heart,” she replied to a still stunned Grace. “Give them both time, dear, you don’t have to choose now.” Lady Jarvais rose from her seat and placed a kiss upon her daughter’s head before leaving the room.

Grace’s gaze followed her mother as she left. She was thankful her mother had said she approved just as much of Ewan as Shiply. Somehow it made her feel more secure in her affection for him. With a deep breath, Grace continued to ready for the ball, and something told her that it would be special, one way or another.

~~~~

Ewan paced the floor of his study, watching the clock. Tonight he would speak the words he had been so carefully displayed the past week to Grace. It had nearly killed him; the restraint, the self-control it took to be utterly proper when around her and not succumbing to his passion and pulling her into a tight embrace and kissing her thoroughly, and more… so much more.

He gave a frustrated growl and heard Whit clear his throat.

“I suppose you’re going to say I’m wearing out the rug or some other sort of attempt at humor?” Ewan grumbled

“No sir, I was merely reminding you that your study clock hasn’t been serviced and is behind.” Whit hid his smile behind a false cough.

Ewan froze and glanced at the old clock again.

“Excuse me?” he asked Whit, increasingly nervous. What time was it truly?

“I believe I told you yesterday, but I doubt you heard me. It was when you were on your way to Lady—”

Ewan interrupted Whit. “I know full well where I was yesterday, but why tell me now? I’ve been pacing here for near an hour! What time is it?” he asked, frustrated.

“Near nine, sir.” Whit responded. Ewan heart lurched, and he felt his face twist with horror. Whit glanced down, lifting a fist to cover up the clearing of his throat in a pathetic attempt at hiding his laugh.

“Nine!” Ewan shouted before jumping into action and grabbing his coat. The ball began at nine! He had wanted to get their right on time so that he could find Grace as soon as possible. Though she was arriving with her parents, he had no doubt that Shiply would descend like a plague and whisk her away without a backward glance.

“Sir, I took the liberty of readying your carriage when you didn’t ask for it about a quarter hour ago,” Whit assured as Ewan continued to ready himself for a bout with the English winter weather.

“Thank you, Whit. I just might not kill you for waiting so long in reminding me about the miserable clock,” he retorted over his shoulder as he put his tall hat upon his head, smoothing the brim.

“Here you go, sir.” Whit handed Ewan his gloves as he walked past. “And, if I may say so, sir, good luck tonight.” Ewan grinned at Whit. They had discussed earlier how he would make his intentions known. In fact they had spoken about it a week ago, where Whit had encouraged him to pursue her with all the manners of a gentleman so that Grace would know his intentions were noble and well thought out, not born of a fleeting jealousy or impulsive attraction.

“Thank you, Whit.” He glanced at his friend and nodded before heading out into the cold air.

The Kringle Ball was a much anticipated and huge annual celebration. Each year it was the last hurrah before the Christmas holiday. The steps leading to the house were lined with gold and green silk, cascading down from the marble pillars and billowing in the cold breeze. Trees were decorated with crystals, silk, and candles, sending warm light into the night air.

When Grace entered into the foyer, she gasped at the hundreds of twinkling candles that lined the hall, reflected by strategically placed mirrors to maximize the romantic light. The musicians played cherished Christmas songs, and Grace inhaled the scent of cedar, pine, and cinnamon. The deep breath Grace took reminded her of Christmas cookies and warm cider on a cold night.

A glance upward revealed tiny crystals chiming in the rafters, tinkling their music softly as the door opened and closed with each arriving guest. The footfalls of each guest were muted on the marbled floors strewn with rose petals, and the subtle scent of rose complemented the other festive fragrances. Everything was beautiful and breathtaking; truly a night for magic if ever there was one.

After she was announced, she squeezed her father’s hand and went off to find Rachel. The crowd was thick with feathers and fur. Grace wove about the crush, adoring each festive gown, tall hat, and crimson cravat.

But before she found her friend, Shiply sought Grace out and asked for a dance. The desire to turn him down rose in her throat before she caught herself and obliged him. With a smart bow he promised to come and collect her when the dancing commenced.

She began to walk further into the richly adorned ballroom when she caught a glimpse of Ewan’s face. The glimpse was so brief, she wondered if it was simply wishful thinking, but then the two men blocking her view moved out of the way.

Her breath suspended in her chest, and she felt the music fade into the background. He walked with purpose as he entered the room, his eyes intent and searching. He was handsome, painfully handsome, in his dark evening coat with a crisp white shirt and crimson cravat. Even from a distance, she could see his shiny boots and muscular legs.

Thrilled that she could take her time in gazing at him, she lovingly caressed each inch of him with her eyes, memorizing his shape and form. When her perusal reached his face, she saw his eyes had been on her, watching her wanton appraisal of his person.

She felt the heat of his gaze from across the room. Gone was the flawlessly polite gentleman who had benignly spent time with her over the past week, and present was the Ewan she had always loved. A tingling sensation traveled up her fingers and into her chest she offered him a slight smile. His response was immediate as he winked at her and began striding toward her with robust steps.

The music for the quadrille began at that moment, causing Grace to groan with the knowledge that soon Shiply would be along to collect her for the promised dance. No sooner had Ewan approached and grasped her gloved hand, searing her with his passionate blue gaze, did Shiply arrive and interrupt. “Hello there, Greys.”

Shiply bowed slightly before turning to Grace. “I believe this dance was promised to me.”

He offered his hand. Reluctantly Grace withdrew her fingers from Ewan’s grasp, but he held her fingers, softly caressing them as she pulled them away. A blush rose in Grace’s cheeks at the brazen yet private exchange.

“Of course.” Grace nodded to Ewan as she left with Shiply.

~~~~

Ewan expelled an exasperated breath. His patience was running short. After the past week where he’d resisted every urge to behave like… well, himself, he was on thin ice. One dance and then he’d steal her away, he vowed to himself as he watched Grace dance.

“How are you tonight, your grace?” Miss Rachel asked as she came to stand beside Ewan.

“Ahh, Miss Jacobsen. You are lovely as usual. I’m afraid my patience is in short supply, but aside from that, I’m quite well, thank you.” He had taken to being quite honest with Miss Rachel, as she had in turn been just as honest with him, especially regarding their dual pursuit.

“I can sympathize,” she remarked as she watched Shiply dance with Grace.

“Have you made any progress?” he asked, turning to her, hoping to distract himself from the desire to beat Shiply for touching Grace as they danced.

“Some, but not nearly enough. What about you?” she asked him.

“The same, but tonight I will tell her of my intentions.” Ewan said confidently as he watched Grace twirl.

“Truly?” she asked as her eyebrows rose, and a tiny grin graced her lips.

“Yes, although I must speak with her father first…” His voice trailed off as he remembered his first task of the night.

“He’s over there, speaking with my father, actually.” Miss Jacobsen pointed with her fan in the opposite direction of Grace.

“Wonderful. I think I’ll go speak with him right now, get it taken care of first.” He nodded to Miss Jacobsen and left.

~~~~

Shiply was a delightful partner and executed the dance perfectly, but Grace found herself missing steps as she searched for Ewan. All she wanted was to see Ewan, speak with him, watch the mischief dance in his eyes as he charmed her. As the dance ended, she nodded to Shiply and excused herself. At last, she saw Ewan with her father and another gentleman she didn’t recognize.

A moment later, she noticed Rachel heading toward her. “Rachel, how lovely to see you! That hat is perfect with your dress! Aren’t you glad you purchased it?” Grace asked as she squeezed her friend’s dainty hand.

“Yes, you were right. It is perfect!” The light in Rachel’s eyes was brighter than usual.

“What are you so excited about? You’re positively glowing.” Grace asked, curious as to what had caused her friend so much joy.

“Ah, well, I have heard some amazing news, I’m sure you’ll find out later…” Her voice trailed off, and she glanced for just a second at Ewan where he spoke with a man Grace did not recognize.

“Truly?” Grace asked as her stomach became uneasy.

“Yes!” Rachel gushed. “Oh, if you’ll excuse me, my father’s motioning for me to come to him. I’ll find you later!” She gave Grace’s hand a quick squeeze and walked elegantly over to where Ewan stood still speaking to the unknown gentleman. When Rachel stopped and gave the man Grace hadn’t recognized an affectionate squeeze on the arm, she felt the blood drain from her face.

“No,” she whispered. Had she misunderstood everything? Perhaps that was why Ewan had been so well mannered, so unlike himself around Grace; because he was trying to distance himself from her and pursue Rachel. Was that the reason for Rachel’s excitement? Was Ewan even now asking Rachel’s father for permission to court her — marry her, even? Her heart pounded with fear as she watched her father pat Ewan on the back in what looked like congratulations. Unable to look away, she saw him shake hands with Rachel’s father and bow to kiss Rachel’s hand.

Grace lifted her hand to her mouth to hide the shock and throbbing in her heart that was clearly displayed on her face. The tears threatened to spill so she began to turn around, but not before she caught Ewan’s glance at her direction. At seeing her reaction, he lost his smirk and began to excuse himself. Grace spun on her heel and left, all but running from the room.

As she wove around people, politely excusing herself, she willed the tears to stall until she was alone. Reaching the edge of the room, she threw open a door and walked into a lonely hallway, lit by only a few solitary candles. The tears began to fall once she was alone. At the sound of a door opening behind her, she walked faster down the hall, furiously wiping her tears. Ewan burst into the hallway searching for her, followed by Rachel.

“Grace!” Ewan shouted, rushing up to her.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled together the fragments of the wall that remained around her heart. “Ewan,” she said coolly, earning a questioning look from him.

“Grace, what is wrong? You’ve been crying.” He reached up to wipe a tear, but she shied away, stepping back from his touch. His expression betrayed his pain as he took a step closer, eliminating the space between them.

“Grace…” he whispered, reaching for her hand, but she pulled it back too, hiding it behind her back. Ewan paused, as if unsure of what to do.

Grace took another a deep breath. “Let me be the first to offer congratulations to the two of you,” she said dispassionately, fighting hard to keep at least her pride intact.

“Congratulations?” Rachel asked with a confused furrow in her brow.

“Well, yes…” Grace trailed off, now uncertain.

“For what? If I may ask?” Ewan questioned, clearly confused.

“Well, aren’t you… I mean, I saw you speak with Rachel’s father…” Grace tried to form the word ‘betrothal’ but couldn’t, it was too painful. Not Ewan, not Rachel. She felt her eyes sting with more tears.

“You thought
I
was going to marry the Duke of Greys!” Rachel asked, shocked.

“Well, yes… You said you would have some amazing news, and then Ewan spoke with your father…” Grace saw the light return to Ewan’s eyes with a teasing glint. He was always so merciless! But as much as it annoyed her, it was a beloved look and she felt more secure, more sure of herself.

Ewan’s expression changed from confusion to triumph as he stepped closer to Grace, gazing into her eyes. She saw him prepare to tease her. But she also saw he wasn’t doing it to be mean, he was doing it to save her from her pain, her sorrow, however misplaced. How often he had done the same thing without her knowing? In teasing her, how often had he in fact saved her? His eyes gleamed wickedly.

~~~~

Ewan knew what he needed to do. Grace needed to feel herself again, without the pain, insecurity and doubt. The quickest way Ewan knew to accomplish that was to tease her and draw her out, as he had done many times without even realizing it; only now had he pieced it together. So, with the arrogant swagger he knew supremely annoyed her, he sauntered up to her.

“You’re jealous!” he whispered, overjoyed at the revelation.

“I most certainly am not!” Grace whispered back, her eyes flashing.

“Oh, but you are, that is why you’re here, my dear. If you weren’t jealous why did you leave the ballroom, almost knocking down the Dowager Duchess Darley?”

Ewan kept his eyebrows raised as he watched Grace sputter and clench her fists. The sight of her angry made him feel giddy. It was one of his true delights, but it also carried the overwhelming emotion of desire along with it.

“I… did nothing of the sort!” Her hesitation implied a lie.

Grace continued to sputter, and he heard the arrival of yet another person in the darkened hall.

Of course.

The party wouldn’t have been complete without the timely interruption of Shiply. He stumbled into the hall and took in the sight of a grinning Miss Jacobsen, a taunting Greys, and a furious Lady Grace. Likely feeling the need to intervene, he stepped closer. Miss Rachel noticed him and brazenly placed her hand on his chest, promptly stopping his advance. Shiply looked down at her with curiosity before a flash of recognition played across his features.

Ewan continued as if nothing had happened. “Yes you did, and yes, you were jealous. You can’t lie to me, Grace.” He stepped closer so that they were only a few inches apart.

“I’ll just be, er…” Rachel stammered.

“Yes, Miss Jacobsen. I trust Lord Shiply can escort you back to the party?” Ewan’s gaze didn’t leave Grace’s.

“Oh, well… Lady Grace?” Shiply asked, completely unsure as to what action to take.

“It’s quite all right. Please see Miss Jacobsen to the party. I’ll be along shortly.” Grace spoke with a slight glance in Shiply’s direction to dismiss him, then once again focused on Ewan.

“Lady Grace…” Shiply hesitated, then reached toward her, stopped, and let his hand drop to his side. With a heavy breath, he looked at Ewan, then Grace, then back at Ewan again.

“I see.” He spoke softly, disappointment evident in his tone.

“Lord Shiply?” Miss Rachel asked gently, laying her soft-gloved fingers on Shiply’s arm. He turned toward her and offered his arm, giving one last glance at Grace.

As they left, Shiply asked the question Ewan knew Miss Rachel had been hoping to hear for quite some time. “Miss Rachel Jacobsen?” His tone was surprised and full of recognition.

He looked at her with acute interest as he studied her from the top of her head to her slippered feet, earning a blush from Miss Rachel. “Why, I thought there was something familiar about you! How have you been? How is your family?” His voice faded into the background and Ewan couldn’t help but smile. Things had a way of working out, at least he hoped so. Either way, he was about to find out.

“Grace?” Ewan whispered. His gaze roamed over her face, taking in her smooth creamy skin and flashing green eyes that sent a bolt of desire through his entire body.

With a slight blush, Grace looked away and took a step back. “Please, don’t.”

Her words weren’t harsh or scolding like usual, but more of a plea. The nature of the request pierced Ewan’s heart.

“Grace,” Ewan whispered again, taking another step toward her. His eyes never left her face, willing her to look up at him, to read the sincerity in his voice and displayed in his eyes.

“Ewan…”As she said his name she looked up, tears glistening her eyes and spilling fat drops onto her cheeks. Ewan froze, Grace’s tears pierced him, stalling any rational thought but the intense desire to slay whatever caused them. He reached into his suit coat, pulled out a handkerchief, and began to wipe them away, one by one. Grace lifted her hand to take the handkerchief.

“Shhh. No, no. Let me,” he crooned as he gently wiped her tears away, then he unthinkingly leaned forward and kissed her cheek, still salty and slightly wet.