Page 22 of The Trouble with a Dare

He made a sound of exasperation and let go of her, raked a hand though his hair, wishing he’d the knack of conversing easily, like Henry could, or Cassius. Neither of them would stumble over their words or have them slipping from their grasp like eels in dark water. Sterling gripped the gate again, as if searching for something solid to cling to, and then his shock increased tenfold as Grace’s slender hand covered his. He stared at it, transfixed by her fair, delicate skin against his, darkly tanned and calloused, scarred from years of work on the farm.

“What don’t you wish, Sterling?”

He stared at their hands, thinking that it illustrated well enough what he needed to say, if only he could put it into words.

“To shame you,” he said, dragging his gaze away and looking down at the ground.

“Sh-Shame me?” she asked, sounding so astonished he had to look at her, for he could not fathom what was so hard to comprehend.

He gave an impatient snort. “You’d never have looked twice at me if the circumstances had been otherwise.”

She was quiet for a long moment and, despite knowing it was nothing but the truth, Sterling’s heart sank. Fool. What had he been hoping for, exactly? It wasn’t as if he needed her to lie to him.

“That… That is not true.”

Sterling’s gaze shot to hers, searching her expression for the falsehood, for any sign of duplicity, but he couldn’t see it, nor understand why she would flatter him so.

“It isn’t,” she said, her voice stern and insistent. “I remember the first time I saw you very well. It was at Holbrook. You came in with Henry Stanhope, looking very much like you wished to be anywhere else in the world but there.”

Sterling grunted, aware that he could hardly deny it, and too eager to hear more—fool that he was—to risk interrupting her.

“I thought….” She blushed, such a startling blaze of colour he wondered what on earth she had thought. Grace lowered her gaze. “I thought you very handsome, and… and I should have been pleased to speak to you, only you looked rather ferocious, and I was rather afraid of you. Besides which, I… I had no right to speak to you at all, w-when….”

Her voice quavered again, and Sterling could not bear it. He turned his hand beneath hers, clasping it gently, marvelling at the silky skin beneath his thumb as it stroked the back of her hand.

“You had every right, and you’ve been ill used, Grace. There’s no shame in what you’ve done in my eyes, and I’ll not have you suffer a moment in thinking there is. You forget all that now.”

She stared at him, tears streaming down her face, and his chest hurt so badly that he found the words that usually eluded him. Anything to stop her from looking so forlorn and sorrowful.

“No shame, Grace. None. Not for you. Those who know the truth, know you… they think as I do. I know they do, and you do too. The rest of the world believes it’s my babe and so it is now. You’re mine, the child is mine. You’re safe and… and I only want you to be happy.”

Grace blinked up at him. “Do you really want that?”

“Aye,” he said gruffly, wishing his heart would stop hammering away so, for it was becoming hard to breathe. Especially now. Especially with the way she was looking at him, full of hope and… and things he was too afraid to believe in.

“Then… Then won’t you kiss me, Sterling?”

His breath, already a scarce commodity, seemed to leave his body all at once, as longing rushed in to replace it, filling him up, pushing at his skin until he felt like it no longer fit him.

“I….” he began, panicked now as he remembered everything he’d decided, the future he had promised himself to make for her. That promise warred with the tantalising vision of a different future, the one he had briefly dared to hope for, where he was truly a husband to her, where they were happy, a family but… but that would not happen. She wasn’t for the likes of him. Much as it pained him to admit his mother had been right, he could see it now. He had no wish to fulfil the rest of her prediction and make a damned fool of himself and tear himself to pieces when it all went wrong. If he let her in, let himself love her… No. No. Too dangerous. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Sterling withdrew his hand from hers, though he regretted it more than he wished to admit. He could have stood there all afternoon, with her hand in his, and been content.

“Not a good idea?” she repeated, her smooth brow furrowing with confusion. “B-But we’re married. I’m yours, you just said so….”

“Yes,” he said in frustration, wishing he could explain it so she would stop pestering him, because he wanted so very badly to kiss her and, now she’d asked him to, he’d never be able to think of anything else.

“Don’t you want to?” she pressed, stepping closer to him, studying his face as if she might figure him out if she looked long and hard enough.

Sterling couldn’t answer. He wouldn’t tell her a bare-faced lie, but he couldn’t tell her the truth. He was trapped and did not know how to get out. Walk away, you damned fool, hissed the voice in his head, but before he could she had reached up, her soft hand touching his cheek. He sucked in a breath, but before he had time to absorb the shock of her caress, she lifted on her toes and pressed her mouth to his.

Chapter 8

Dearest Larry,

I am so sorry for keeping you in the dark. I miss you too and wish you could have come to the wedding. How I needed you to give me courage and make me laugh, but I shall explain all when we meet next, for there are things I will not entrust to a letter.

Suffice to say that Papa was right. Mr Oak is a good man, a kind man, and under no circumstances will you lay any blame at his feet for the events you spoke of. I am content. I have a comfortable home and my husband is generous. He has given me leave to decorate and furnish as I wish, and to make a garden. So, you see, not a heartless beast set on making me miserable.