Tenacious Trents 02 - A Perfect Gentleman (27 page)

She smiled up at him gratefully and took a
sip. He returned to pacing before the fireplace. “What you say
makes sense and I am glad we know the truth.”

“I am relieved as well,” Perkins
announced.

“Yet, that does beg the question,” said Vicar
Trent.

“Who tried to kill me tonight?”

The clock in the hall chimed twice, startling
Grace. They had not left the room, though the occupants were
tiring. “I think Mr. and Mrs. Thomas should remain here for the
rest of the night, or at least what is left of it.”

Perkins stood. “I’ll see that a room is
prepared.”

“Rubbish.” Mrs. Thomas came to her feet. “I
was the housekeeper here until a few days ago. I know what room can
be used.” She turned and held her hand out to her husband. “Come
along. I could sleep for a week now.”

“It does help when a conscious is eased,”
Vicar Trent offered, yet there was no anger in his tone. Grace
wasn’t angry either. As much as she hated what her father had done,
he had tricked Perkins and Mrs. Thomas into helping him. She didn’t
know if she could live with herself if she were in their place.
But, had she been at home instead of in town trying to find out
when the meeting would be, this wouldn’t have happened at all
because her father would not have tried to end his life while she
was in the house.

Grace rose to follow them, pulling the
blanket tightly round her body. Vicar Trent was close to her side,
carrying a small lamp.

“Goodnight,” Perkins announced and walked off
toward her father’s room.

“Will you be alright?” Vicar Trent asked
her.

Her hands began to shake the moment she
touched the bannister and put her foot on the first step. Could she
return to the room? What if that man came back? Would anyone hear
her or would she be safe.

“Could you check the doors and windows
please?”

Vicar Trent nodded and went to the front door
first. Grace sank down on the step. She couldn’t go up there until
she knew she was safe.

It seemed to take forever before he returned.
“I checked every window and door. Everything is secure.”

Grace pulled herself to her feet and began
walking up the steps. Her feet felt like they were laden with led.
Was it safe upstairs? What if someone had gotten in while they were
in her father’s bedroom? The front door had not been locked.

She paused at the top of the stairs. “I hate
to be a ninny, but could you check this floor as well?”

He smiled softly at here. “You should go to
bed first.”

“No.” She would not be trapped in her room in
case someone was in the house.”

“Very well.” Vicar Trent went to the first
room.

“Mr. & Mrs. Thomas will be in there.”

Vicar Trent nodded and went to the next room.
He disappeared for a moment and was back. “That room is clear and
the windows locked.”

Grace followed him down the hall and back,
stopping at the threshold of each room as he went in to check. This
was such a childish thing to do. It wasn’t as if there were
monsters hiding beneath the bed or in the closet, but could she be
sure there wasn’t a murderer still in the house? Vicar Trent
probably thought she was the biggest ninny he had ever met.

Finally they came to her room. He entered,
opened doors to closets and her armoire before checking the
windows. “It is safe, you can come in.”

She scampered across the room, glass
crunching beneath her slippers and she jumped on the bed and
stilled. One of her pillows was on the floor, lamp oil soaking into
the fabric. It would be ruined now. But did she really want that
pillow any longer? Someone tried to kill her with it.

“I’ll get something to sweep that up.”

She stared at the broken lamp on the floor.
It was the only light for her room, not that it did her any good
now. If Vicar Trent left she would be in darkness but she couldn’t
very well let him wander the house without a lamp. He might fall
down the stairs like Papa. Why was she so weak and scared all of a
sudden? Why now, when she needed to be strong and self-reliant for
herself and her father.

Vicar Trent came forward and sat on the bed.
“What is wrong?”

She looked up and met his eyes. “Please don’t
leave.”

He studied her for a moment, his jaw
clenching and unclenching. “I don’t think that is wise.”

“Why?”

He brought his hand up and cradled her face.
“If anyone learned, you would be ruined, despite the
circumstances.”

“Who is going to know? Mr. and Mrs. Thomas
will never say anything.”

“I don’t think it is wise.”

She didn’t want to beg him but she was afraid
to be alone. “Please?”

How could he say no to Grace? Her eyes were
wide with fear and who wouldn’t be afraid after what she had been
through. But, did he dare remain in her bedroom overnight? No. He
wasn’t that strong. He wasn’t that good. He was a vicar but he was
also a man, not immune to the temptation. And nothing tempted him
more at this moment seeing her sitting in her bed, in her white
nightgown that even though it covered her from neck to toes, still
hinted at the body it hid. Her hair was mussed from earlier sleep
and this situation was far too inviting. It was all he could do not
to lean forward and taste her lips. He had wanted to kiss her for
days but had remained in control and kept a firm grasp on his
desires. The will to be good, be perfect was quickly slipping from
his grasp and Matthew feared if he remained here one more moment he
would do what came naturally. He had no right to take advantage of
Grace and that is exactly what he would do in this circumstance. He
shouldn’t even be having these thoughts given what she had been
through these past couple of days. A man tried to kill Miss Cooper
tonight and all he could think of was bedding her. What kind of man
was he? What kind of vicar was the better question?

Matthew sprung from the bed. He needed to put
distance between her and him before it was too late. The glass
crunched beneath his boot. She was in danger and vulnerable. He
would not be the one to harm her this night, or take advantage.
Seduction would be easy in this circumstance and he couldn’t
believe he even let the word flit across his mind.

Turning on his heel he stalked across the
room and pinched the bridge of his nose before he stared out at the
night. How could he have fallen so quickly and so easily into lust?
If he were Jordan, he wouldn’t have left the bed but seduced her
instead. But he wasn’t Jordan; he was the vicar and should not be
having lustful thoughts about a parishioner.

“Vicar Trent?”

He turned to look at Grace. She watched him.
Her brow marred with concern. “Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

Yes!
“No, why do you ask?”

“You never answered my question. Will you
stay with me tonight?”

He looked around the room for a safe place to
remain. Yes he would stay with her, but not on the bed or even near
it. He wasn’t that strong. A cushioned chair was placed beside the
fireplace. It looked comfortable enough, not that he would get a
wink of sleep. He marched over to it and settled down. “I will
remain here.”

Her brow creased. “Are you sure you will be
comfortable?”

No!
“I will be fine. You should
rest.”

With one last look at him, Grace lay down and
pulled the cover up to her chin. “Do you mind if we leave the lamp
on?”

“Not at all.” Now he knew he wouldn’t get any
sleep. This was going to be the longest night of his life. He
looked around the room for something to read. There was nothing and
he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He needed to think of
anything or everything except about Grace sleeping in her virginal
bed. Such thoughts were dangerous. He almost laughed out loud. His
breeches were so uncomfortable now with lust and desire from the
thoughts of what he wished to do with her he wouldn’t get a wink of
sleep.

It had been so long since he had not been
able to ignore his desires; Matthew wasn’t sure what to do. When
one lived alone, when he suffered from moments of physical urges,
he usually could ignore and it would go away. Such would not be the
case tonight.

Perhaps he should open a window, or better
yet, go stand outside in the cold air. That should cool his loins,
hopefully.

He shifted in his seat and glanced over at
Grace. It was the wrong thing to do. Her hair was fanned out on the
pillow; her full lips parted slightly, her dark lashes brushed
against her ivory skin. The blanket had been moved from her
shoulder to her waist and he could see the darkness of a nipple
pressed against the thin fabric, tight across her breast. Matthew
groaned and shifted. His clothing was unbearably tight.

Well, at least one of them had found slumber
quickly enough. The same would not be the same for him.

Given she was asleep; he stood so that he
could adjust his clothing. Had she been awake, he would have done
everything in his power to hide the erection his clothes did not
mask. But Grace was sound asleep, completely unaware of the affect
she had on him.

She moaned and rolled to her back. Now he had
two breasts claiming his attention and even though they were
clothed, it didn’t take away the desire he had to mold them in his
hands, and taste.

Pivoting on his heel, Matthew put his back to
Grace. This was wrong, so very wrong. He was a vicar. She was a
parishioner. Vicars did not lust after parishioners. Especially
parishioners who didn’t lust after them and were innocent.

He was going to burn. Surely as there was a
God, he was going to burn for the thoughts and desires he
entertained this night.

Grace moaned again, and the sound shot
straight to his groin. She was asleep, he reminded himself. Not
responding to his touch, though he wished that were the case. And
he was a fool. She had not given any indication that she was
interested in him as a man or for anything other than her minister.
She would probably laugh herself silly if she had any indication of
what he wanted, desired. He would never tell her because then she
wouldn’t feel nearly as comfortable around him. She already had
three men pursuing her that she did not want; he would not be the
fourth.

“No.”

The words were barely audible and Matthew
turned toward the bed.

Grace began thrashing, slowly at first. It
wasn’t a surprise she would suffer from nightmares after
tonight.

Matthew moved to the bed to touch her
shoulder. He gently shook her, wanting to wake her. Grace moved
away from him.

“No,” she cried out again.

This time Matthew grasped both of her
shoulders and leaned in. “Miss Cooper, it is I, Vicar Trent.”

She tried to jerk out of his grasp.

“Wake up, you are having a nightmare.”

She struggled a few moments more before her
eyes slowly opened and looked up at him. Confusion marred her brow
before her eyes lit with recognition. Before Matthew could react,
her arms went around his neck and she drew him down to her until
their lips touched.

He should pull away. She couldn’t be awake
and be aware of her actions. Yet, as much as he argued with
himself, he didn’t break contact and his arms slipped around her
waist and pulled her close. Miss Cooper’s nails dug into his
shoulders, as if she needed something desperately to hold onto. A
moment later her hands relaxed and slid into the hair at the back
of his head. Matthew melted, this was his weakness. He would agree
to almost anything if a woman threaded her fingers through his
hair. He tilted his head and traced the seam of her lips until she
opened slightly. Before she could close he delved into the heat and
pulled her even tighter against his body.

This was wrong. What was he doing? He was her
vicar.

He was a man