“I understand your hesitation, really, I do,” Henry replied, “but she has never asked anything of me other than assistance with one small matter she could not handle on her own, and she has freely shared with me what she sees as her weaknesses.” Trying to placate Fitz, he said, “I promise my time with her feels completely different from those who only seek my title. In fact, it seems to be one of the reasons she is reluctant to accept me.”
“You’re clearly taken with her, and I trust your judgment,” Fitz said after a moment. “I’ll not push you further on the matter. I just want you to be careful—I don’t wish to see you hurt, that’s all I’m saying.”
“I know,” Henry said warmly. “You’re a good friend, and I appreciate it when you question me. It keeps me honest. But I know what I feel for her, and I trust her. I want to help her. I want us to help each other.”
“Good luck to you then, my friend. I hope she answers you soon and in the affirmative.” Fitz clapped him on the shoulder.
“I hope so,” Henry sighed. “But I’m worried that her previous marriage has done too much damage and she may truly never want to marry again. I just have to trust that she’ll see me as a better option than finding a placement somewhere.”
Fitz gave him a sympathetic smile. “Come on, why don’t we rouse these little ones and get them back to the nursery for their supper?” he said.
They woke the children and packed up their things, heading towards the house. Fitz carried a sleepy Emily while Henry toted their basket and rods, with a heavy-lidded Miles trotting after them. As they passed the edge of the garden, Henry glimpsed familiar honey-colored hair through a gap in the hedge and diverted for a greeting, only to reel backward. Unprepared for the sight of Grace arm in arm with Stanhope, laughing at something that he said to her. Henry saw red. Without thinking, Henry crashed his way into the garden, cutting off their path.
“And just what are you two up to on this fine day?” he asked, stopping himself from sneering. However, the sentiment still did not quite pass as sounding polite.
Startled, Grace looked at him and recoiled when she saw the barely contained indignation on his face. “Your Grace,” she said cautiously. “How did you enjoy your fishing?” The last was said in a natural tone, Grace having rallied her composure. He watched as a veneer of politeness fell over her face like a mask.
The underlying tension of the moment utterly lost on Stanhope, he simply smiled and greeted Henry. “You see, Your Grace,” Stanhope preened, “I was able to grab her for a walk after all, as I was not able to join you on your secret rendezvous this morning.” Henry had most certainly had enough of the smug, indelicate man and wanted to know what Grace was doing with him, encouraging hopes that Stanhope had obviously been growing toward her since the house party started.
Henry directed a placating half smile in the man’s direction.
“Yes,” Grace interjected, trying to ease the uncomfortable moment. “Mr. Stanhope discovered me with the countess earlier, and it would have been impolite for me to turn him down a second time, don’t you think?” she said pointedly towards Henry, highlighting his rudeness. Looking at Stanhope, she said, “We are having a grand time,” but I do think it’s time to head back now, as we will soon need to dress for dinner.”
“Excellent,” Henry exclaimed. “I was just headed back that way myself. I’ll join you, as my traveling companions have made their way without me. Do lead the way,” he said cheerily. Gesturing with the fishing poles, he motioned them forward toward the house. Stanhope’s lips tightly pressed, he submitted to Henry’s direction, not wanting to quibble with a duke.
Not more than ten minutes later, the trio had made their way back to the house. It had not been entirely uncomfortable as Grace kept her composure through her irritation and led a stream of polite inquiries directed toward Stanhope, who was clearly delighted by the fact that it was he, rather than Henry, who held her attention on the walk. Henry would let the man have his satisfaction in the belief that he had won the lady’s attention over that of a duke. He was sure that in the end, he would be the one with the girl, and that was what mattered.
Ascending the steps of the back porch Grace thanked Stanhope for the pleasant conversation. “I’ll leave you here, I want to confer with our hostess about something before I go in,” she said, releasing Stanhope’s arm and gesturing Moira’s direction across the patio. Stanhope reluctantly left, Grace and Henry watching him disappear behind the French doors. Not more than a second later, Grace whirled around to face Henry with a look of pure agitation.
“What on earth was that?” she gritted out from between clenched teeth, trying to keep her voice down and not draw attention.
“I simply saw you out for a walk and thought it would be lovely to join you,” Henry replied.
“You behaved like an arrogant duke,” she fumed. “You purport to be uncomfortable using your newly elevated station, but you certainly didn’t hold back in cloaking yourself under its mantle just now, when it suited. You acted like a puffed-up buffoon!” she said, causing him to wince.
Henry did not enjoy her accusation of wielding his status for his own gain, but he could not deny that the pronouncement hurt because it hit so accurately.
“I apologize, I stepped in without thinking . . . but I did not like seeing you with him. You should not encourage his obvious fancy for you if you are not going to return his favor, and you should not be entertaining anyone else at this time anyway,” he said, growing more fervent with each word as he so passionately wanted her to belong to him.
“You act as if I belong to you,” she said in a scarily accurate echo of his own thoughts. Grace spoke with an iciness that made him fearful she may not feel as warmly toward him as he thought.
“Yes, you have made an offer to me,” she continued, “but I have not accepted. Even if I had, I am my own person and I do not belong to you. I was out with Mr. Stanhope because he asked me to join him, and it would have been impolite for me to refuse him again. As you may recall, I already put him off this morning so that I might be able to talk toyou.” Her gaze could practically cut him it was so steely. “Furthermore, I resent the fact that you believe I would ever conduct myself in a manner that would lead on any man with whom I did not intend to pursue a possible match.”
He stood there, humbled at her beratement, feeling just how wrong he had been inserting himself in the situation and making assumptions based on jealousy. “I apologize if I in any way made you feel that I don’t respect or value you,” he said, his eyes begging her to forgive him. “That could not be further from the truth.”
Looking up toward the sky and huffing out a breath, Grace took a moment before refocusing her gaze on him. “Moira convinced me to be more open in considering your proposal. I had been planning to talk with you about what a marriage between us might look like, but before I could do so, I was waylaid by Mr. Stanhope,” she explained. “Now, after that pompous display of arrogance, I’m not sure I still want to have that conversation. Maybe I was mistaken in my assessment of your character,” she finished.
“No, please, we can still have that talk,” Henry begged. He grasped her hands and was grateful she did not immediately pull away. Dipping his head so he could look her directly in the eyes, he said with all the sincerity he could muster, “I want to have that talk.”
Realizing he needed to provide her with proof that he was not usually the man he had just displayed, he told her, “I assure you that if we are to marry, you will always be your own person. Regardless of what the law may say, I would never think that you belonged to me or that I had the right to control you.”
Henry paused to gather his thoughts. He was aware that only minutes earlier he had thought he did want her to belong to him, but that was not what he actually meant, and he wanted to find the right words to make that clear to her. But expressing his feelings had never been easy for him.
Speaking slowly, he said, “It’s true that should you agree to wed me, I would want you to be by my side, but you would still be your own person. It would not mean as much if you were only there because you felt you had to be. I would want you to belong to me, but only in the sense that you chose to be with me . . . and I would belong to you in return.” It was a clumsy attempt at articulating such thoughts for the first time, but he was glad that he had at least tried to make clear what he felt toward her.
Grace’s eyes were wide by the time Henry finished speaking, and she was holding on to his hands a bit more firmly. “Fine, we can continue the conversation regarding the possibility of marriage between us, but not now,” she said, drawing in a deep breath. “I need tonight to clear my head, and I think we are both too emotional right now for a productive conversation. We can continue this discussion by the roses tomorrow after breakfast. I’ll give you an answer then.” She released his hands and went inside, leaving him alone on the porch.
Henry smiled to himself, grateful that he had not completely bungled everything with his impulsiveness and protective behavior. There just might be some hope left after all.
