To Seduce an Earl (37 page)

And with his grin, all was well in her world.

Hand in hand, they followed a path that weaved through tall grass and wildflowers of purple and blue. They were like two children on a treasure hunt. Instead of jewels or gold coins, their treasure was a new life.

Eagerly she matched his stride. After two days upon a train, she was ready to be completely alone with him. Gulls cried out overhead, hovering on the wind over a backdrop of fluffy white clouds. In the distance she could hear the soft roar of the waves, a magical sound that rang true to her ears.

“And,” he said as they followed the footpath up a hill. “Could you imagine, perhaps, living here forever?”

She froze there at the crest, her heart hammering erratically with disbelief, with hope. Was Alex asking… She looked up into his brilliant blue eyes, studied the way his lips tightened slightly as if he was anxious. Her fallen angel. She knew he was asking her to stay with him…but was he asking marriage? She’d already misinterpreted Rodrick’s offer, she wouldn’t make the same mistake. The question was, if Alex never offered marriage, could she live with him in sin? The answer came almost immediately, a whispered declaration.
  
 

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I could live here forever.”

His chest seemed to grow broader as he took in a deep breath, his face relaxing as if a load of weight had been taken off his body. Although he seemed relieved, the words she so desperately wished to hear never came.

Will you marry me?

He started forward and because she couldn’t bloody well merely stand there, she followed, determined not to let his lack of devotion sting. She knew exactly what she was strolling into, knew what could happen to her reputation by escorting Alex to the south. She had chosen her path and she would not regret her actions.

“According to the Vicar, who, by the way, assumes we are married, the cottage is just around the bend.”

His words stung. A sharp twist of irony that pierced her soul.

According to the Vicar, who, by the way, assumes we are married…

She gritted her teeth and smiled. Eventually Alex would ask her to marry him, wouldn’t he? Perhaps he wasn’t the kind to marry. Perhaps he was perfectly fine living in sin, for hadn’t he been all this time?
 

Confused over her own beliefs and feelings, she lapsed into silence. Lost in his own musings, Alex didn’t seem to notice. Daisies brushed against her skirts in welcome as they moved into a patch of white birch trees. She would not focus on the future, she would stay grounded in today. She would take comfort in the flowers and the birds fluttering from the tall grasses. The skies so very blue it took her breath away.

“There they are,” Alex whispered, pausing as they crested a hill.

She followed his line of vision. For one moment the sun was too brilliant for her to see much of anything. Soon enough she realized those sparkles of light, those rainbows of color, were actually waves tumbling and turning toward the sandy beach.

“Ohhhh,” Grace breathed because she could say no more.

She’d been to the shore only once as a child. She swore she would one day visit the ocean again. The mystery of it all was just as magical as when she’d been a child. Alex hadn’t asked her to marry him, but it didn’t matter. She knew without a doubt, she had come home.

“Tis exactly as I remember it. The beauty, the magical pull…” He rested his hand on a birch tree, his fingers caressing the curling bark and she wondered if he’d done the same as a child to this very tree. “I loved the cottage, the many days spent running through the fields, swimming in the sea. I was only but a lad when my mother’s father died and left the cottage to me. I haven’t been here in years.”

She could hear the pride in his voice and smiled over it. “And now it’s yours.”
 

Alex claimed they had nothing. He worried he couldn’t give her everything she needed. But he was wrong. They had a lovely cottage and most importantly, they had each other. They would settle into the cottage by the sea and she would send for Mama and Patience. They would be happy here.

He glanced down at her and smiled. “Ours. Tis ours.”
 

It was all she needed to hear. The happiness she felt only flared brighter, sweeping through her body in a flush of excitement. Alex took her hand and they started down the path where the birch trees thinned. Grace saw their future there, in those windswept hills and crashing waves. In the mornings, when the sun was shining and birds chirping, they would take a dip in the sea. In the afternoon, perhaps have a picnic on the hill, gathering wildflowers to decorate the cottage. She’d take their children to the shore to search for shells and…

“That can’t be it,” Alex’s horrified voice broke into her musings.

Grace jerked her head upright, following his line of vision. A white-washed cottage sat nestled at the bottom of a hill near the shore. A lovely picture, if it weren’t for the broken windows and holes in the thatched roof.

Grace’s happiness wavered.
This
was Alex’s cottage? Yet, she wasn’t one to wallow and instinctively she opened her mouth to say something cheerful, yet the words wouldn’t come. They might as well sleep outside. Worry burst anew, but not for herself. No. One look at Alex’s pale face and she worried over his welfare. He’d so desperately wanted to impress her.

“It’s wretched,” he muttered.

“No,” she lied. “It’s…it only needs a little work. Nothing we can’t overcome.”

He dropped his hold and pulled away from her, swiping his hands over his face, weary, exhausted when only moments ago he’d been thrilled and relaxed. She felt his distance as if they’d been parted by the very Ocean. He was rebuilding that wall around his heart, brick by wretched brick.

“I knew it would need work, but…” He paused near what had once been a stone wall around the front garden but was now merely a crumbling ruins, and shook his head in disgust.

Overgrown red roses burst in bloom. Rather pretty, really. She reached out, drawing a velvety petal between her fingers. The gardens would be easy enough to improve. With a little pruning, the flowers would be as good as new. Grace took off her bonnet and set it upon the top of the rock wall.

“I hadn’t expected—”

“Nonsense, tis lovely, Alex. You’re not seeing the possibilities.” Taking in a deep breath of fortitude, she strolled across the garden. Although the tall grass was doing everything in its power to keep her from the front door, she surged forward, ignoring the burrs that stuck to her skirts.

“Look at the variety of beautiful flowers.” She swept her arms wide. “Your grandfather must have been quite the gardener!” She paused in the open doorway of the cottage, relieved to have made it through the jungles, and peered into the darkness. It was empty and dank, smelling of mildew. She shivered to think of what might be living in their cottage. “And the woodwork!” She rested her hands on either side of the door. “The foundation seems quite sound.”

“Tis a mess, you’re merely trying to make me feel better.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder and grinned. “Not at all. It’s lovely and it’s yours, you should feel proud.”

But he didn’t look any happier. Merely folded his arms across his chest and frowned up at the building like a father unhappy with a child.

“Tis true.” She stepped into the foyer, stirring dust into the air.

Although the empty rooms were in disrepair, instead of focusing on the dishevel, she thought of Alex. She thought of a dark-haired little boy, rushing through the rooms while playing games with his brother. A happier time. A time of innocence and family love.

Abandoned, but she swore she could still feel the memories of that happier time clinging to the walls and floorboards, waiting to be revealed. This was their chance to add their own happy memories.
 

She turned, full of renewed hope. “Alex, look at the potential! There’s no better view in England. The home merely needs a little work.”

“Little,” he scoffed, strolling toward her. Although she’d had trouble making it through the jungle of a front garden, the very weeds seemed to part for him, as if sensing he was king of the manner. How could he not see that he belonged here? How could he not feel the very heartbeat of this cottage, waiting for him to bring it back from deep slumber?
 

At the door, Alex paused. “Twenty years ago this place was thriving.” His handsome face was remote, cold, bitterness tightening the edges of his eyes and mouth. “What happened to it? To my family?”

She saw the look in his eyes, that light fading. How she wanted him smiling and happy! Couldn’t he see that they were better off now than yesterday? Couldn’t he see that bright future she dreamt of? He moved into the room, his footsteps heavy.

“What have I done to you,” she thought she heard him whisper.

Her heart squeezed, aching. Lady Lavender had done so much more to Alex than merely selling his body. She’d destroyed his soul, made him believe he was unworthy of life and love.

Grace briefly closed her eyes, praying for help. “Don’t. Please.”

She felt him look at her, felt his confusion. He didn’t even understand the ways of his depressing thoughts, could no more control them than he could control the ocean waves. For Alex it was completely natural to believe that life was a horrible, dark and empty place. Perhaps she had seen glimpses of that darkness, but she refused to even dip her toes into that churning sea of emptiness. She had to believe in the good of the world, she
must
. Otherwise, what was the point?
 

“Don’t what?” he finally asked.

She opened her eyes. “Do not give up on us.”

His entire body seemed to soften. “Gracie,” he whispered.

She refused to give into his emotional gaze. “I feel rather dusty and hot.” She reached for the buttons on her bodice and made her way to the door, wondering if he watched. She had thought to wait until tonight to seduce him. Damn it all, she wanted him smiling again, she wanted to feel the warmth of his touch, the caress of his fingers. When he held her, she believed in heaven, she believed in life and love.
 

“I’ll need to repair the roof first,” he muttered. She could practically see him adding up the coins in his head and resisted the urge to sigh.

She’d take his mind off of his worries. Her heart hammered madly in her chest. She’d never much been the temptress before and worried she would make a complete muddle of things.

“You know how to repair a roof?” she asked casually.

But desperate times called for desperate measures. Hopefully he wouldn’t laugh at her antics. She pulled the bodice from her arms, letting it fall to the floor with a soft swoosh.

She wouldn’t regret her actions. She’d wanted this for so long now, always waylaid by some excuse or another. She’d hoped for nighttime and the soft, forgiving glow of the moon. But the late afternoon light would do just as well. Swallowing hard, Grace paused on the threshold and turned toward Alex.

He was looking around the parlor, barely aware of her existence. Instead, finding fault with every floorboard, every crack of the plastered walls. “The floors seem sound, down here anyway. Upstairs, who knows.” He raked his hair back from his face. “Lord, Grace, how can I expect you to live here?”

She dropped her skirt as he turned toward her. In the doorway, with the sunlight brilliant against her back, she stood in her shift and corset knowing he could see every line of her body. She wouldn’t be nervous, she wanted this. Lord, she was practically upon the shelf, so why did she feel like a virgin on her wedding night?

The look upon his face shifted from one of worry to one of pure shock.

“Might you help me with the rest, Alex? The bindings are a bloody nuisance, they are.” She was proud of the fact that her voice didn’t quiver. “The sea looks ever so cool. Shall we wash away the grime of travel?”

The look of shock upon his face turned into a look of need so heated she felt it all the way to her toes. A look that pierced her very body and warmed her soul.

His footsteps were soft as he made his way toward her. She had no doubt that he wanted her. She could see his desire in the hardness of his body, the softness of his eyes, the way his hands curled, the way that pulse beat frantically in the side of his neck. “Ah, Gracie, what are you trying to do to me?”

This time, no one would interrupt them. This time they were alone. Utterly alone. “Merely reminding you of what you have to be grateful for.”

He paused in front of her and she had to resist the urge to sink into his strong body. That warm, tantalizing scent of spice and male swirled around her, peppering the very air.

“You?” he whispered, his hands were trembling as he reached forward, his knuckle brushing the tops of her breasts as he undid the strings of her corset. Her nipples grew hard, her breasts felt heavy, aching with a need to be touched. “Do I have you?”

“Of course you do.” The corset slid from her torso, landing with a thud to the floor.

Air…pure, wonderful air whispered seductively down her throat and into her lungs. She could finally breathe without the confinement of her London garb! She found herself laughing, and it had been so long since she’d laughed. Spinning around, Grace darted through the door and toward the path that led to the Sea, wearing only her shift, stockings and boots.