Page 35 of Baron in Check
“And I believe in facts and what I see. I see these colors in a fruit bowl, but not at my wedding. Let me see the blue dress.” Hermy walked around the room divider and searched the pile of garments on the chairs. All the dining room chairs had been lined up to create a little wooden row of soldiers to hold the gowns. The colors clashed so terribly, they reminded Hermy of a fruit salad more than a bowl. “Which one is it?” She rummaged through the fabrics as Madame Giselle came around the room divider.
“Natasha, show her the blue, please.” Madame Giselle gestured to her assistant.
The girl dutifully peeled a white cotton sac from a parcel.
“That’s rather small,” Hermy said.
“It’s a new fashion. You wear something like this under such a gown rather than a petticoat.” Madame Giselle held up a lace corset with so many decorative seams and ribbons hanging from the side that Hermy had to look twice to think about how the body of a woman would fit into this. Then her eyes turned to the silk.
When Hermy steppedout from behind the room separator, Greg found himself unable to look away. She wore a simple blue dress that seemed to catch and play with the light, shimmering in shades of teal and gold like the waterfalls he’d seen in India. She was luminous. But beyond the dress, it was her radiance that squeezed his heart so tight, only a kiss could set him free.
Don’t betray her trust in you. You must not take advantage of a damsel in distress.
Hermy twirled and the blues enveloped her as if she were being pulled into a water swirl. “This might do.” At the end of the swirl, the fluid fabric dropped to her sides, cascading over her gentle curves. She came to a halt, but Greg’s heart raced.
His entire body was hard, his neck pricking up. He loved her and wanted to marry her, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to steal her away from him again. There was no denying his feelings, he’d been in love for her for as long as he could remember. But did she still want him to be? Or was he merely the last resort in her distress? Even though he wanted her more than the air he was breathing, this was not how he’d claim victory.
“Hermy, may I speak to you for a moment, please?” He cleared his throat, waiting for his courage to catch up with his purpose. Whether this was reasonable, honorable, or perhaps expected, at the core, it felt stupid. And yet, what he was about to say was necessary.
She walked slowly toward him, or perhaps it was just the way her body moved that seemed to slow his mind down, for he couldn’t peel his eyes off the beauty heading toward him. If this were a ballroom, he’d turn to search the lucky man who earnedher attention, but this was his house and Greg was painfully aware that they were alone but for the servants.
Her hair, a soft hazelnut color with subtle highlights, was tied back into a loose bun and Greg’s fingers itched to pull out the pins and set her silky mane free. A few strands had escaped the confines of the bun, gently resting against her neck. When she stood just a step away, she looked more than just beautiful; she became the focal point of his attention, captivating him completely with her presence.
“Let this be a lesson to you,” Madame Giselle whispered to her seamstress. “A true beauty doesn’t need ruffles or adornments. Sometimes, all she needs is a color to bring out her complexion. Let nature do the rest.” With these words, she flicked the trunk shut and Hermy turned a shade of pink. “Your Grace, I will send the invoice with the remaining items when they are delivered.”
“Thank you,” Greg said curtly with the air of a Baron indeed. Hermy tingled inside seeing him in command with others, knowing that she still possessed the singular ability to perturb his composure.
While a footman arrived and ushered Madame Giselle and her seamstress out, Hermy cast Greg an expectant gaze. His love for her was simple, yet profound, rooted in the countless moments they had shared, from laughter to silent understanding. The urge to kiss her was more than just a fleeting desire; it was a deep-seated need to affirm their connection, to communicate his feelings in a gesture that words could never fully capture. In his eyes, Hermy was not just the woman before him, but the essence of everything he cherished, compelling him to draw closer, one heartbeat at a time.
“You ought to know how breathtaking you are,” Greg started.
She ironed out the nonexistent wrinkles of the blue dress and her pink flush turned crimson. “I do like this dress.”
“It shall be yours. As well as everything else in this house and everything that belongs to me.”
She swallowed, her neck visibly tightening. “I thought you knew I didn’t come here to seek your charity, I was running away from?—”
“I didn’t misunderstand, Hermy. I know you too well to pretend otherwise and if I made any false reproach, I’d insult your intelligence.”
Her eyebrows narrowed and she blinked at him.
Out with it.
What he really wanted was wrap his arms around her delicate waist, press his mouth on hers, and claim her like he’d done every winter and every summer when he’d seen her at the end of the semesters at Eton and then at Oxford. He wished he could be the impulsive green boy and follow his heart, but his mind held him back like a leach. All these years of ingraining him with the duties of a Baron had done more damage than he cared to acknowledge.
“I cannot steal from you.” That came out wrong.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Ahem … we are both benefitting from our bargain. The agreement.”
Hermy was the only person he knew who could quirk a brow and narrow it at the same time for an extra scrutinizing stare. She was the only person who knew his heart better than he did.
“I’m not paying you the Earldom in return for my freedom.”
Greg reached forward, he wanted to embrace her. But instead, he rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t blink, she was so beautiful, but he mustn’t stare lest he act on his impulse. “I don’t mean that.”
“Then what do you mean? This sounds an awful lot like rejection.”
