He framed her face in his hands and forced her to look him in the eyes. “Stop looking for things that will make me stop loving you, because I swear upon my life that no such thing exists.”
Her bottom lip quivered in a most heart-wrenching way. “I merely thought you should know.”
“Thank you, my lady. I now know, and do not give a rat’s arse that your maidenhead may have given its life to your saddle rather than my cock.” He couldn’t resist a devilish grin. “The rest of you is mine, and I consider myself a truly blessed man in that regard.”
“Such language, Your Grace!” But the laughter in her eyes made the scolding fall short.
“You, my dear one, are my heart mate, the other half of my soul, and, very soon, my wife.” He nibbled a tender kiss across the sweetness of her lips before lifting his head and smiling down at her. “Forgive me for the coarseness of my words, my love. I merely wished to impress upon you their sincerity.”
“Oh, I am quite impressed, Your Grace. Quite impressed, and I can hardly wait for whatever else you wish to impress upon me.”
“Saturday, my love. After we have said our vows—I swear to impress you to the very best of my abilities.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You promised, Felicity.How could you not keep your word when you know how much this means to me?” Grace couldn’t believe her sister had betrayed her, and she refused to allow Felicity’s teary-eyed shock to convince her to look aside just this once.
“You saidno meat.” Felicity pointed at the wedding breakfast menu. “Kippers are fish. They are not meat. Everything is in accordance with your wishes. No animal was harmed in the making of your feast!”
“Except for those poor smoked kippers.” Grace thumped on that particular item on the menu even harder. “Have you ever looked into the eyes of a herring? A fish is a living thing that hatches, grows to find another suitable fish, then lays eggs to bring little herrings into the world and protects them until they mature enough to make little herrings of their own. Papa showed me once in his book about fish. It’s still in the townhouse’s library in London, if you don’t believe me. Those poor, tortured fish are not bushes that bloom, produce berries, go dormant in the winter, and wait for the gardener’s pruning and the bees pollinating to begat more berries the next season. Berry bushes are not sentient beings. Fish are.”
“You are impossible.” Felicity snatched the menu away and marched back to the door. “Fish do not havefeelings, Gracie. They are fish.” She snapped the creamy-white square of parchment as if it were a whip. “But far be it from me to arguewith Lady Grace, Mother Nature’s most devoted servant. I shall keep the kippers on the sideboard in the kitchen. If anyone wants them, they will have to ask Walters to fetch them.”
“Fine.” Grace glared at her younger sister, determined to hold her ground on this day of all days. She was already a bundle of prickliness. Could Felicity not understand that?
“Yes, fine!” Felicity stamped her foot, then slammed the door on her way out.
“What in heaven’s name did you say to Felicity?” Joy asked as she entered the dressing room.
“She put kippers on the menu.” Grace glared at Joy, daring her to side with Felicity.
“Oh, dear heavens.” Joy made a dramatic show of pressing her hand to her forehead. “Not kippers for Gracie, the protector of anything that might look back at you from the plate.”
“Exactly!” When Joy put it like that, it did indeed appear as if she might have overreacted, but Grace wasn’t about to admit it. Fish were living things. How did one know they did not have any feelings? She preferred to err on the side of caution. “Felicity is usually much more understanding. I can’t believe she did this to me, and on today of all days.”
“Speaking of which, you’re not handling this day well at all. You never make Felicity cry. You’re always the one to protect her.”
And that was another thing. Grace felt absolutely horrid for being so bloody impossible to her sweet sister, who always took such pleasure in making things perfect for others. “I’ll apologize to her the next time she returns, as I’m sure she will. She has asked me innumerable questions this morning that could well have been handled yesterday or the day before.”
“There’s the spirit. How could she possibly remain distraught with you when you positively overflow with such genuine remorse and understanding?”
“Sarcasm is very ugly on you, sister.” Grace flounced down and sat cross-legged on the floor in nothing but her shift. What on earth was wrong with her? She was barely tolerating her own presence, and if her stomach churned any harder, it would surely turn itself inside out.
Joy circled her while toeing a path through the utter disarray of the dressing room. “I saw Nellie in the kitchen fetching your third pot of tea. Do you think that wise? What happens when you need the chamber pot or bourdaloue at a critical juncture in your vows?”
Grace dropped her head into her hands. “I will more than likely need a bucket in which to cast up my accounts.”
“I have never seen you like this. You’re the fearless one.” Joy dropped beside her and rubbed her back. “You love Wolfe. Correct?”
“Correct.”
“You love the twins, and they love you. Correct?”
“Again—correct.”
“And Wolfe is even more unsociable than you are, preferring the country over Town. Am I correct on that as well?”
Grace lifted her head and stared into her sister’s eyes, which were the same shade of blue as her own. “You are correct on all counts, Joy, so why am I still so bloody miserable?”
