“Wonderful idea, Your Grace.” Phoebe glanced coquettishly over the rim of her china cup.
He chuckled. “I will return before you can finish that cup.”
“Do not rush on my account.” She smiled up at him.
His chest tightened at the knowledge of what he must do. He had been fooling himself as much as everyone else with their courtship, but in reality, nothing had changed. He could not marry her, regardless of how badly he wished to.
Phoebe would not be pleased when he broached the topic again. In fact, if their last conversation was any indication of her feelings on the matter, he felt safe in wagering she would be more than a little cross with him.
With luck, she would be angry enough to grant him his freedom and save herself in doing so. He studied her sitting prettily upon the couch, and a stab of regret pierced him. Devil help him. He would have to hurry back before he lost the will to let her go.
He forced a smile. “I make no promises.” Then he strode from the room.
When he reached his bedchamber, he wasted no time in going to the washstand. After splashing water on his face and scrubbing his hands and arms, he put on fresh clothing, then made his way back to the solar.
As he’d predicted, rain poured down in sheets while he was freshening up. The sound of thunder roared through the castle walls as he as he stepped into the solar, and a wide-eyed Phoebe flung herself into his arms. He held her tight. “You are safe.”
She pressed herself against his chest, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Through the window, lightning illuminated the room, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that made her flinch. She trembled in fear as the storm raged on outside.
Graham sat with her tucked against his side. He could scarcely discuss the impending marriage when she was already in such a state. He closed his eyes and heaved a breath. Bloody hell, time was running out, and he had made no progress.
Lightning flashed, and Phoebe screamed, bringing her hand to her mouth as if to stifle the sound.
Graham smoothed his hand over her hair. “Look at me,” he demanded.
Phoebe turned fear-filled eyes on him. Her lips quivered as she met his gaze.
“You are safe inside the castle. I will not allow harm to come to you.” He stroked her cheek. “Relax.”
She nodded, though her gaze remained fear filled.
Graham smiled reassuringly. “Why don’t you tell me why you are so frightened?”
She bit her lip and averted her gaze.
“You can trust me,” Graham soothed as he stroked his hand up and down her arm.
“I know my fear is irrational. I worry you will think me silly.”
“Never.” He stared deep into her eyes. “I promise.”
Thunder cracked again, causing her to jump. This time she landed directly in his lap. He wrapped both arms around her and rocked her back and forth. When she settled against him, he spoke again. “Trust me, Phoebe.”
She wet her lips with her tongue, and his insides tightened. The overwhelming urge to kiss her gripped him, and there was nothing he could do for it. He brought his mouth to hers. A gentle kiss that soon turned demanding as she met his desire with her own.
He could not say how it happened, but before long, they were laying across the sofa. His arms wrapped around her, and their bodies pressed together.
Phoebe’s heart pounded against his chest. “Do not let me go.”
The words doused his passion, but he held her all the same. His mind went back to her fear, and he asked again, “What happened to you?”
She brought her head to rest on his chest and inhaled a deep breath. “When I was a girl, a terrible storm came. It was the middle of the night, but the lightning flashed so frequently that it seemed to be daytime.” She paused.
Graham moved his hand from her head to her back and stroked it in small, soothing circles. “I can imagine how that might affect a child.”
She nodded and sniffed. “The thunder…I thought it might bring the house down around us. I crawled from my bed and went to look out my window. A moment later, lightning split the sky, striking our stables. The building burst into flames.”
“You must have been terrified,” Graham said.
