Page 16 of The Miracle of Love
She cast him a delicate smile. “I went next door to your mother’s room to attend to myself. I did not want to disturb you.”
Lord, this girl was even more beautiful by daylight.
Beautiful and elegant, even though her gown was simple and she wore little adornment. It was his habit to notice everything about a person, whether friend or enemy. Grace’s gown was of dark green wool, the green of a pine forest, and it was another of those modest clothes that covered her from her throat to her toes. Her hair was done up in a braided twist at the nape of her neck, but it looked soft and golden on her. “What time is it?”
She blushed as she spoke to him. “Almost eight o’clock.”
He glanced down at himself to make certain he was properly covered.
Yes, all clothes still on.
Although he needed to take a long piss. “Get out a moment, Grace. Please.”
“Fresh chamber pot is under the bed,” she said with aneepand scurried out. “I’ll see you downstairs for breakfast.”
He checked the wardrobe and was relieved to see most of the spare clothes he kept at Miranda’s still neatly stowed inside. He hadn’t bothered to look closer last night, just eager for the pillow and blanket so he could get to sleep. But this morning, he noticed Grace’s gowns and dainty underclothes were in there along with his garments.
A warm feeling came over him.
He had never thought of sharing quarters with a woman before. In truth, he had not been thinking of it at all last night. No wonder Grace had kicked his arse soundly in their marriage discussions…all hypothetical, of course.
Only, it was beginning to feel quite real to him.
He liked that her clothes were beside his.
He’d thought she was beautiful last night and even more beautiful this morning.
He glanced atThe Book of Loveperched on the night table. It certainly was cutting a swath of destruction on the lives of every bachelor who came in contact with it. His brother, Rafe, had been the last to fall victim to its powers.
Perhaps he ought to read it tonight.
He liked to learn everything he could about an enemy, and this book was as much a threat to his freedom as any person, hostile country, or spy organization.
Someone knocked softly at his door. “Come in.”
It was his Aunt Miranda. “You need a shave and a bath, dear boy. I’ve taken the liberty of assigning Tiswell as your personal valet. He’s arranging for your bath to be brought up now. Do not worry about him. He is the soul of discretion. Been with me for decades. Come downstairs whenever you are ready.”
“What about Grace?”
“What about her? She is downstairs with the family, her face in flames because she is so embarrassed about this situation. Your mother is there to calm her.”
“I ought to be with her. I don’t like the idea of her facing everyone alone. Even if my mother is with her, it isn’t the same as if I were there.”
Miranda’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Since when are you so considerate of a woman’s feelings?”
“Why does everyone think I am such an ogre? Grace is my responsibility now. Why would I not worry about her?”
“Worrying about keeping her alive is not the quite the same thing as caring for her feelings.”
He moved aside as Tiswell rolled in the small copper tub and two footmen followed with laden water buckets.
“Well, I shall leave you to your grooming,” Miranda said and strode out.
Deklan waited for the footmen to leave and shut the door behind them before he addressed the elderly butler who was to be his temporary valet. “What has my aunt told you, Tiswell?”
“She has confided that Miss Montford is in grave danger and you have been assigned to protect her. But I expect you are really asking about the fact you shared the same room last night.”
“The men who are coming for her are highly trained professionals and are ruthless. I cannot leave her on her own for a moment, especially not after darkness falls. This is the time they are most likely to strike.”
