“A warm cup of tea always soothes my throat when I’m unwell.”
He nodded, his mind far from the tea they were discussing. A small piece of holly had somehow lodged itself in the red curls about Grace’s face.
He stepped closer. “Hold still.”
Her eyes widened as his hand came up to the side of her head. Softly he grasped the sprig, but it did not release easily from the coppery curl. Bringing his other hand up he held the piece of hair in place as he untangled the sharp points of the holly leaf from her tresses. It finally pulled free. Glancing down, he realized how close they stood, the warmth from their bodies lingering in the air between them.
Merry voices faded into the background of his mind as he became acutely aware of his own breathing. Grace studied his face, her chest rising and falling almost in rhythm with his. The pull that he always felt when she was near seemed more like a push. One that had him leaning closer to her.
“Grace, come see,” Miss Prudence called from the doorway. “I’ve finally found the perfect place.”
He sucked in a full breath as Grace turned.
“Coming,” she said.
As his mind cleared, he realized where his intentions had been. Had he really been tempted to kiss her? Yes, that is exactly what would have transpired without the timely intervention. Disappointment and relief warred within him. He should begrateful for the interruption. Grace did not need a reprobate like him accosting her in the public areas of the house. They were friends, that was all. If he stepped beyond that line, there would be no going back, and Grace did not need to be saddled with a broken man like him.
Grace sat before the fire in her room, a mix of emotions keeping her from sleep. The day had been delightful with good food and even better company. Yet her mind could not relax after the moment she’d shared with Lord Gladsby. Memories of his piercing blue eyes holding her captive would not fade from her mind even for a moment. The energy between them had crackled like a roaring fire, and she briefly wondered if he meant to kiss her. Was it really possible that the baron had feelings deeper than friendship for her?
They’d never spoken of such things, staying strictly within the bounds of propriety. Yet the longer she thought, the more she recalled interactions that seemed out of place. How many times had he been the one to help her up the stairs or into carriages, even though multiple gentlemen were present? Or how they’d never missed dancing together any time they attended the same assembly. Then there was the time when he’d inspected the spring lambs.
Grace sighed. That was when she’d truly fallen in love with him. She’d always thought him handsome, with those dashing curls and a firm square jaw. Everything about him was masculine and strong, but it was his tender heart that had pulled her in, a characteristic that became even more apparent with his generosity toward her brother.
Last year, when her brother had been on the brink of financial ruin, Lord Gladsby had offered to lease two of Bradley’s tenantcottages and run his flock of sheep on the land they were not using. In exchange, His Lordship would leave half the spring lambs for Bradley to start his own flock. The offer had already been generous enough, but when the lambs were split, instead of dividing them equally, he’d left nearly all the ewe lambs for her brother. Bradley had been ignorant of it since he’d not observed the flocks at weaning time.
But she had noticed. She’d visited the little creatures every day after that and noted the number of females to males. When she’d tried to ask about it, Lord Gladsby had dodged the subject with an expert compliment about her knowledge of sheep.
That was another thing. He was never short of compliments for her. He insisted she was the most accomplished harpist he’d ever heard and often asked her to play when he came for a visit. She’d assumed it was only an example of his generosity of spirit, but now… now she wondered if there was more behind his words than mere kindness. It was both exhilarating and a little humbling. Maybe his enjoyment of her talent was skewed by his attraction to her.
Gooseflesh skittered up her arms. On second thought, it was completely exhilarating. Was it really possible that Lord Gladsby was drawn to her? Her lips curved into a silly grin.
A soft knock interrupted her mental wanderings.
“Who is it?” she called softly.
“Prudence,” her sister replied, as she opened the door and rushed in.
“You know you are supposed to wait to be invited in.”
“It’s too cold to wait. The open hallways are so drafty I’m surprised we do not freeze every time we step out of our rooms.” Prudence rubbed her hands in front of the fire. After a moment, she turned her backside to the flames and rubbed there too.
Grace giggled.
“What? It is not like your rump has not grown cold a time or two.”
“I will not refute that, but you could have warmed yourself in front of your own fire.”
Prudence marched to the bed, snatched a blanket, then she flopped in a chair, pulling the brightly colored throw about herself. “How can you be so easy about sleeping in a room all by yourself? Especially in this big house. Some of the noises are downright eerie.”
When Prudence slouched forward and brought her legs up, Grace realized the crux of the problem. All her life, she and Prudence had shared either the nursery or a room. They’d never slept apart. Was Pru terrified of being by herself? It made sense.
Her propensity for people always exhausted Grace, but she should have realized that need would transfer over to every part of the day, including bedtime.
“I’d not noticed any strange noises, but you are welcome to stay as long as you like.”
Pru’s eyes strayed to the large four poster bed.
Grace’s gut twisted at the thought of giving up her space, but the droop to Prudence’s mouth chipped away at her resolve. “Would you like to sleep in here with me?”
