“Marry me today,” he called out to her when she and the dogs circled close enough to hear him.
She halted and shot him a disbelieving look. “I thought I made my position about eloping to Gretna Green quite clear, Your Grace.”
He patted his pocket. “We do not have to elope. Our special license is right here in my pocket.”
She meandered closer but kept a disappointingly respectable distance between them. Her hesitant smile and watchful demeanor both teased and worried him. “I thought we were going to have the banns read starting the first Sunday next month?”
“What are you afraid of, Gracie?” he asked quietly so her family couldn’t hear.
She tossed her head. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Grace.”
“What?”
“The other evening, in the drawing room, Joy tutored me on how to read people. What I read now is that you are afraid—and I need to know why, so I might correct it.”
She ignored him, concentrating instead on the multitude of dogs milling around her.
“I am not going away. You might as well answer.”
She gave him a curt huff, then flounced down and sat in the tangle of billowy grass that covered that part of the meadow. “Are Connor and Sissy not back yet?”
“They’ll not return until well after tea, remember? The vicar’s wife was most clear on that.” Bending his tall frame, he snaked through the fence, daring to close the distance between them and sit in the grass beside her. The dogs clambered and bounced all around until Grace convinced them to calm themselves and sit.
He reached over and took her hand in his. “I thought you wished to be my wife. Was I mistaken?” He held his breath, praying she had not changed her mind after all that had happened.
She refused to look at him. Instead, she kept her head bowed, hiding behind the wave of golden-blonde curls that had worked loose from her hairpins. “I do wish to be your wife.”
“Then why do we delay embracing our wedded bliss? From all I know of you and all that your sisters say, you have never given a whit about what the gossips tattle on about.” He let go of her hand, swept back her hair, and gently turned her face to his. “What is it, Grace? What is wrong?” He grazed his thumb along the fullness of her bottom lip. “You frighten me, my lady,” he said. “You make me fear I am about to lose you.”
Uncertainty welled in the sapphire blue of her eyes, fueling his fears even more. “What if…”
He waited for her to finish, holding his breath again as all the terriblewhat ifs she might utter raced through his mind. “What if?” he prompted her when she still didn’t speak.
“I am not a usual…lady.” She cringed as if confessing a most egregious sin. “You may think you already know that, but taking a wife such as myself is quite a different matter entirely.”
Rather than reassure her or allay her fears with smiles and platitudes, he forced himself to remain solemn. “Name off your sins, my lady. Even though we have done this before, name them off so I might know of all your vile ways.”
“I am not toying with you, Wolfe. I am quite serious.”
“As am I. Name them.”
“I do not eat meat.”
“Dishes with meat will not be offered to you nor placed on your end of the table. I, however, will continue to enjoy a good cut of beef or whatever meat Cook has prepared.”
“I do not approve of hunting either. Fox hunts are particularly cruel, and I can’t abide them. Are you willing to respect my wishes on that?”
“I have yet to see a fox since arriving in the country, my lady, and closing Wolfebourne land to hunting is not an issue. There is still the sport of breeding thoroughbreds and hounds, supervising the maintenance of crops, and filling our manorwith children for Connor and Sissy to recruit for even more mischief.”
She stared at him, the heightened pink of her cheeks sorely tempting him to kiss her. “You know of my adventuring clothes.”
He allowed himself a heavy sigh. “Indeed, I do. Might we come to the same agreement that you and your father had? No riding near the roadway or wearing them into the village. You only wear them while on Wolfebourne or Broadmere land?”
“Yes. I believe that only fair.”
“What else?” He was winning, and with any luck, they would be happily married by week’s end. Struggling not to gloat, he nodded for her to continue. “You already told me you are opinionated and fractious, that you speak your mind, and I have witnessed your protectiveness over those you care about firsthand. All of which, if anything, makes me love you even more.” He dared to kiss her cheek and lingered close to the silkiness of her hair as he whispered, “I want you as my wife, Grace. Within the next hour would not be soon enough.”
