Page 57 of Only By Grace
Grace hesitated, her lips parting as though to refuse. But then she nodded, placing her gloved hand in his.
Ronan led her to the dance floor, his hand resting lightly on her waist as they began to move. The music swelled around them, but all Ronan could hear was the pounding of his own heart. She was so close that her familiar scent teased his senses, her touch filled the missing piece of him.
He considered making a light remark, perhaps even a jest, “Did you miss me?” but the words died on his tongue. Instead, he found himself consumed by the sheer relief of being near her again. The hollow ache in his chest seemed to lessen, his heart feeling whole for the first time in weeks.
The strain between them was palpable, a weight that neither seemed able to lift. As they began to move in time with the music, Ronan allowed himself to study her, his gaze tracing the delicate curve of her cheek and the soft sweep of her lashes. Shewas as lovely as he remembered, but there was a faint shadow beneath her eyes that hinted at restless nights and unspoken worries. The smile she had worn earlier, so bright and engaging, was now subdued, as though it had been a mask she had grown weary of holding in place.
Ronan forced himself to break the silence even though he was content to drink her in. “I am not sure what it says about me that my eyes found you and no other.”
Grace’s expression softened, and she looked back up at him, uncertain of his sincerity.
“How is Maeve?”
“She is faring well, it seems,” she said gently. “Joy has been a great source of diversion for her, and the change of scenery seems to have done her good. She laughs often now, though I think her heart is still mending.”
Ronan nodded, relief mingling with guilt as her words sank in. “It seems I am in your continued debt.”
“Nonsense,” Grace said firmly. “Maeve is strong, and she is recovering in her own way. It takes time.”
He hesitated, his grip on her waist tightening slightly as he searched for the right words. “I have carried much guilt for what happened to her,” he admitted.
“Maeve does not blame you,” Grace said, her voice steady. “I think she is struggling to forgive herself.”
Ronan fell silent, her words striking something deep within him. It no longer felt as if they were discussing Maeve. Perhaps she spoke of herself as well. The dance continued and he held her gaze as they crossed the floor, their movements perfectly together, though his thoughts were anything but orderly.
“Can you forgive me for being a fool?” he asked, his voice almost drowned out by the music.
Grace looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “You let me go,” she repeated softly, her voice tinged with hurt.
The words hung in the air between them. For a moment, Grace seemed surprised by her own words. Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced away, her composure slipping further. Ronan cursed himself silently, unsure of what had possessed him to speak so plainly.
“I thought it was the for the best,” he continued, his jaw tightening as he struggled to regain control of his wayward thoughts. “I thought I was sparing you—giving you the chance to find someone better. Someone who could give you the life you deserve.”
“And yet here you are,” Grace said softly, her gaze returning to his. There was no malice in her tone, only quiet curiosity. “Why? What has changed?”
“Let us just say that a higher power opened my eyes. I know I am far from perfect, and you still deserve a better man than I, but if you can see your way to forgive me…” he said simply, his voice trailing off, raw with emotion. He shook his head. “I fear my words are often inept when I most wish them to matter.”
“Please continue, nevertheless.”
She did not wish to make this easy on him. Very well. “I thought I could live without you, Grace, but I was wrong. I have been wrong about many things, but never more so than this.”
Grace blinked with surprise as her steps faltered slightly. Ronan adjusted instantly, steadying her without missing a beat.
“You don’t have to say anything now,” he said hurriedly. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I could not let you think—could not let you believe—that I did not care about you.”
“I never doubted that you cared,” Grace said, her voice steady now. “But caring is not the same as choosing me.” She looked away then, her lashes lowering as a faint blush rose to her cheeks in response to her boldness.
The truth of her words cut through him like a blade. “I am here now,” he said, his voice fierce with conviction. “And I willnot make the mistake of letting you go again—no matter how long it takes to prove it to you.”
The music swelled to its crescendo, and they came to a halt as the final notes faded. Ronan bowed low over her hand, his eyes never leaving hers. “Will you forgive me, Grace?”
The words hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Grace seemed at a loss for a reply. Her blush deepened, and she glanced away, her composure faltering ever so slightly. Ronan cursed himself silently, unsure of what had possessed him to speak so plainly. He need not force the issue here and now. He should have waited until they were not in a public place and wooed her more gently, but his heart was on his sleeve, and he’d held his feelings in for so long he’d wanted to right his wrongs as quickly as possible.
“I do not know.” She slipped from his grasp then and left the floor.
Ronan watched her go, cursing his impatience.
He sought out his sister for a dance to ensure she was thriving, then left, needing time to consider his strategy.
