Page 8 of The Marquess's Imperfect Brid
Father would say that was an excuse, he thought dryly. And perhaps, he would be right in that regard. But the quality of the woman he pushes me to marry should matter more than status or fortune or her seeming beauty, should it not?
He shuddered, riding harder, shifting his focus to the cool air that slapped his face. The thought of any loveless marriage, especially one to Lady Cecilia filled him with dread that threatened to steal his breath. He knew he could do little to get his family to see reason, no matter how resistant he was to the notion of marrying her. If only there was something about Lady Cecilia of which they did not approve. But after what Thomas had told him and what his father had said on the subject, he knew it was highly unlikely that they would ever dislike her.
***
Grace drew a deep breath of the fresh air. The songs of the blue and red birds flying overhead fell into sweet harmonies, filling the world around Juliet and her with songs that she knew far surpassed her own skill. The peony and lilac bushes that lined the path emitted fragrances that wafted to her nose, sending thrills of delight through her. After her accident, she had been saddened by the partial loss of her hearing and sight senses. But when she encountered such sweet scents, her imagination played her most beautiful memories associated with those smells.
“I remember when you and your brother played in the wildflowers just beside the lilac bushes at the entrance to the forest behind the manor,” Juliet said with a giggle. “You would make a halo of them and adorn it while Lord Neil pranced around you, pretending to be a marauder trying to steal your precious crown.”
Grace laughed and nodded.
“As I recall, I did the same to Anne when she was about the same age,” she said.
Juliet joined in her mistress’s laughter, patting Grace on the arm.
“You most certainly did, milady,” she said.
Grace was thinking about how indignant Anne had pretended to be when they played their little game, and how amusing Grace found it to be, when a beige blur burst out from the nearby undergrowth. Grace narrowed her eyes, focusing just quickly enough to see that it was a pheasant. The fowl behaved as though a predator was chasing it. It rushed past fast enough to leave a faint breeze at the hem of Grace’s skirts.
It was also just fast enough to startle Lady Whiskers. The cat hissed loudly, leaping hard enough to bump into Grace’s leg. The sensation, in addition to the sudden, hurried appearance of the bird, spooked the feline so badly that she vanished. Gracewhirled around just in time to see her racing up a nearby tree. The women could hear her claws digging into the bark as they frantically sought purchase to climb as high as the animal could manage to get.
Grace stood, staring with horror toward the top of the tree. In a single instant, Lady Whiskers had climbed so high that Grace could not longer see her. Grace’s heart leapt into her throat, and she acted without a second thought. She shoved the basket she always carried when she left home into Juliet’s hands, not giving her a chance to speak.
“Here,” she said breathlessly. “I must go and fetch her.
“Before Juliet could argue the impropriety of the act, Grace hitched up her skirts so that they rose to her knees. With an adept ability which she had not possessed since her childhood, she began to climb the same path her feline companion had taken up the tree.
“Milady, please,” Juliet called from beneath her. “This is too risky.”
Grace shook her head, unsure whether her lady’s maid could even see it.
“If Lady Whiskers slips, she would be in graver danger than I,” she said. And curse anyone with enough gall to stop and stare at my knickers and then gossip about me, she thought, choosing not to address the social impropriety of her current behavior. All that mattered to her was getting Lady Whiskers down safely. The rest of the ton did not matter.
She had just noticed the flicking of Lady Whiskers’ white tail when she heard hoof-beats behind her. She paid them no heed, seeking a branch on which to boost herself further up the tree. It is probably nothing more than a passing hackney, she thought, preparing to move to the next highest branch of the tree. And when the hoof-beats silenced, she felt sure that her assumption had been correct. But when she heard a voice that was notJuliet’s, her heart and her foot stopped.
“What has happened?” asked a male voice with an annoying hint of amusement, and an even more irritating lacing of concern. She whipped her head around, shocked at hearing a man speak. Doing so showed her that the gentleman was addressing Juliet, whose eyes were wide, and cheeks were white. But it also caused the tenuous grip that Grace had on the tree to falter, and she slowly slipped from her spot. Before she could cry out, she was tumbling back down toward the ground.
When she first made contact with the gentleman’s arms, her eyes were closed, and she had braced for impact with the street. But when she felt a warm grip around her calves and her mid-back, she slowly cracked her eyelids. The gentleman had caught her as though she was little more than dandelion fluff floating into one’s palm on a late summer afternoon. Despite her concern for her beloved pet and the utter madness of the situation in which she found herself, the world seemed to stop around her.
The gentleman was incredibly handsome, with dark brown hair that was currently slipping down into his piercing green eyes. His strong jawline softened as he gazed down at Grace in his arms. He opened his mouth as if he had something to say as his eyes locked with hers. But no sound came out. Only then did Grace realize that her heart was beating more quickly than it ever had. She also remembered that Juliet was nearby, and she could feel her lady’s maid’s gaze firmly on her.
She blushed as the impropriety of the situation finally struck her. Any chance passersby would immediately assume that something untoward was happening right there on the street. But Grace was so mesmerized by the gentleman that she could not move to free herself. And strangely, she found that she did not wish to do so. Right then, all she wanted was to hear the man who had saved her from a nasty tumble speak to her. And if he continued cradling her gently to his breast as he did so, thatwould be fine with her.
A plaintive meow from above Grace’s head brought her crashing back to the dilemma of the moment. She looked up, directly into the frightened, accusing eyes of Lady Whiskers, who was barely hanging onto a tree branch. At last, a soft cry escaped Grace’s throat, and she pointed up toward her cat.
Even though no words came from her lips, the unexpected gentleman’s gaze followed her finger until his eyes rested on the terrified feline. He placed Grace gently on her feet, giving her a calm, charming smile.
“Oh, I see,” he said. “I could fetch your sweet cat from this tree, if you like. It would be a shame to dirty or rip your beautiful dress.”
Grace stared at the man, unsure of everything in that moment. She might have believed that he was being disingenuous, were it not for her racing heart, the complete shock of the encounter, and the sparkle of friendly warmth in his eyes. She could only nod, stepping back and glancing back up toward Lady Whiskers instinctively.
The man did not wait for a verbal agreement or show of gratitude. He reached up for the branch that Grace had been grasping and swung himself up onto it with ease. He then moved toward the branch on which Lady Whiskers sat, gripping the bark to keep herself from slipping.
“It is all right, sweet darling,” he crooned as though rescuing a feline from a tree was a regular duty for him. “I will not harm you. I only wish to help you, sweetheart.”
Grace could hardly believe how calming and soothing the man was being with the animal. And from the distress that was melting into bewilderment in Lady Whisker’s eyes, neither could she. The cat made eye contact with her mistress again, seemingly wondering if she should trust the stranger. Grace still could not speak, so she offered another weak nod, praying her cat wouldunderstand.
Her prayer was almost immediately answered. As the man continued speaking sweetly to the animal, she began to allow herself to slide, front paws first, toward the man. Grace feared she would fall past both of them and land harshly on the ground. But an instant later, the man reached quickly but gently toward Lady Whiskers, placing a hand on her belly and lifted her away from the branch. He hugged her against his chest as he evacuated the tree. Grace was astonished once more to find that, when he brought her pet to her, the cat was nestling into his arms and purring with grateful contentment.
