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“I’m sure, I—” I drew in a deep breath and stepped away from him. His arm was still around me and I pushed it away, turning my back to him and burying my face in my hands.
I could do this.
It was going to be fine.
And if not, it didn’t matter.
Right?
“Grace, what’s wrong?” Concern laced his tone, and I pressed the tips of my middle fingers into the inner corners of my eyes, like the pressure there would make it easier to admit that I was a big, fat liar.
“I have to tell you something,” I said quietly.
“Okay,” he replied slowly. “So tell me.”
“It wouldn’t be Miss Brown in the library with a book.”
Great. Well done, Grace. Excellent start, you nincompoop.
“Brown isn’t really my surname,” I continued, dropping my hands without turning to look at him. “Well, it is, but it isn’t.”
He didn’t say anything.
“And the coffee shop wasn’t the first time we met. But I didn’t know that. And if I did, I wouldn’t be here,” I huffed. “I made a big fuss about you when I didn’t exactly say anything either. I’ve hardly told the truth about who I am.”
Again, nothing, and then he said, “Forgive me, Grace, but I’ve got absolutely no bloody idea what you’re on about.”
“That makes two of us,” I muttered, finally turning around.
“Can we not have this conversation somewhere else?”
“No. If you can see me, I might lose my balls.”
“Lose your balls? I’d say having a pair is certainly a secret you’ve been keeping.”
“William!” A tiny laugh escaped me, and I ran my fingers through my hair before tucking it back behind my ear. “I’m trying to be serious.”
“You’re dreadful at it,” he shot back. “If you insist on spilling whatever these beans are right here, right now, might you get on with it? Before our fire goes out in our room and you complain about being cold again.”
I pouted, looking at his shoulder. “My surname isn’t Brown. It’s Montgomery-Brown.”
His arms tensed, the tiniest twitch in the faint glow of the fire from the other side of the room.
“And I’m not a miss, either.”
“Why? Are you secretly married?”
“No.” I raised my gaze to where I knew his was. “My actual name is Lady Grace Montgomery-Brown.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – GRACE
Panties on Fire
William stared at me for what felt like an age. I was sure I was going to hurl—my stomach was churning at a rate of knots, and the lump in my throat was nothing but a bundle of nervousness that was going to stop me breathing soon enough.
Although, that might have been a blessing just then.
“Do you think you can make it to the fire without hurting yourself?” William asked after a moment. “I think it’s about to go out, and this sounds like it could take a while.”
