Page 61 of Romancing the Scot
She was playing to Hugh’s feelings of protectiveness for Grace, he decided, and he was working hard to keep his anger in check. The cool, silent passenger in that carriage had suddenly been replaced by this ingratiating creature who sat before him.
“But I’m wandering off the point. I just wanted to convey in person my deepest sorrow if my letter to her was in any way responsible for this horrible event. When I sent it to her, I never,neverimagined it would cause any harm.”
She sat for a moment, still and silent.
“I’m taking far too much of your time, m’lord. Would it be possible to visit with your sister or your guest, if only for a few minutes, to tell them both how sorry I am to be in any way mixed up with this dreadful affair?”
“Why didn’t you say that you remembered her when you saw her from the carriage?” he asked sharply.
“Why, I . . .” He’d caught her off guard with his question, but she recovered her composure quickly. “I wasn’t certain she wanted to be exposed in that manner. Frankly, I couldn’t be certain her memory loss was genuine. In either case, I doubtedyouwould have wanted her exposed in the presence of Lady Nithsdale.”
“When was the last time you were on the Continent?”
“Let me think. I was there this past autumn. My late husband left some property—”
“Were you in Antwerp?”
“No, Brussels.”
He could see a steely anger stretching across her pale face.
“M’lord, I don’t understand the meaning of these questions.”
“Have you had some connection with the Bonaparte family, in Brussels or in America?”
“Absolutely not. The only time I had any contact with them was in the company of my late husband, who you know was a minister in the government. And that one time was at the christening of the infant prince.” She began to stand. “I’m not sure what you’re about, asking such a thing? My husband gave his very health in the service of—”
“Sit, madam,” he ordered.
As she lowered herself into her chair, he saw that the masked demeanor he’d noted when they first met was back. She was clearly not accustomed to taking orders from anyone.
“Your reckless behavior put my guest and my worker in danger. Frankly, I have a difficult time believing your intentions regarding Miss Grace were as altruistic as you represent them to be. If you wanted to meet with her, you could have called here at Baronsford. You could have engaged her in conversation here in the gardens, if you required such privacy, and offered your friendship in safety. Instead, you engaged in a game of intrigue, luring her into a situation that could have turned out far worse than it did.”
If his words stung her at all, her face did not show it. She remained silent, staring at him, her back straight as a ramrod, and her hands motionless in her lap.
“That’s all I have to say to you, madam. My sister and my guest have no time to see you this morning. My footman will escort you to your carriage.”
Bowing curtly, Hugh strode without another word from the sitting room.
* * *
With a stern injunction to rest for the afternoon, Jo left Grace alone in her room.
Exhausted as she was, she immediately realized closing her eyes was pointless. Trying to sleep was absolutely futile. Too much had happened. As she lay staring at the ceiling, her mind tumbled with acrobatic leaps through the emotional and physical events of this tumultuous day.
She had unburdened herself of all her secrets, which gave her tremendous relief, but that didn’t lessen her worries about what lay ahead. Jo had more than hinted of her desire for Grace to form an attachment with Hugh. But in spite of their invitation to stay, the rest of their family would soon be descending on Baronsford. As an outsider, Grace would be encroaching on their lives. There was a limit to how long she could stay here without the risk of abusing their hospitality.
Then she had to consider the blistering passion that sizzled in her body each time she and Hugh kissed. Her pulse beat madly at the very thought of it. All sense was stripped from her whenever he touched her. Something melted deep in her belly even now at the memory of his touch.Thatwas a complication that she couldn’t allow herself to think of now.
And there was the matter of the diamond. Someone wanted that jewel enough to arrange for an attack on her. If it were indeed a kidnapping, she had no doubt it would have been demanded as ransom. Staying here, she’d brought danger to the gates of Baronsford, and as a result a brave man had been seriously wounded. Perhaps it would be best, and safer, if she left here and traveled to Brussels as she’d intended. Once there, after delivering the jewel to its intended recipient, she could decide where her future lay.
But even as she thought about taking such a step, Hugh’s face appeared in her mind’s eye, and an ache nudged at her heart.
Increasingly restless, Grace could find no respite from this mental torment. Not an hour had passed since Jo left her, but she threw back the coverlet and climbed out of bed. The wrapped ankle hurt when she put her weight on it, and she was grateful for the cane Mrs. Henson had the foresight to leave beside the bed. Picking it up, she couldn’t help but admire the carved lion’s head that formed the handle of the stick.
She needed a distraction to take her mind off the dilemmas facing her. Surely, she could make it to the library, Grace told herself. As she made her way slowly through the hallways and into the west wing, she exchanged pleasantries with a few of the maids bustling in and out of the bedrooms and suites. She didn’t know the exact date of the family’s arrival, but she guessed they would be coming in soon.
The curtains had been tied back, the casement windows were standing open. The rain and mist of the morning was gone, and the afternoon sunlight stretched lazily across the Persian carpet and the comfortably upholstered chairs and benches. The upper library truly exuded an aura of welcome. Looking at it now, Grace was reminded why this was Lady Aytoun’s favorite room.
