His Saving Grace (20 page)

“Good day, Nigel. May I have a word?”

He stood there uncertainly for a moment before opening the door wider. Her nervousness disappeared and she stepped inside.

“I thought you were back at Blackbourne Manor.” And why would he think that? Was he keeping an eye on them?

“Is Clara here?” she asked, ignoring his statement.

“She’s gone calling.”

“Splendid. We can speak privately.”

He blinked. “Privately?”

“I won’t mince words, because I must return to Hadley Springs today. I am asking you to stop questioning our servants regarding Michael and his injuries.”

There was a bit of stunned silence before Nigel said, “You came all this way to ask me this? And I am to do so just because you ask? There is clearly something wrong with Michael, and it is my duty, as next in line, to assure that the earldom is taken care of. A long line of Ashworths depends upon it.”

She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Do not even think that I believe you have only the best intentions for the Ashworth name.”

He appeared affronted as he put a hand to his heart and his eyes widened. “Why, of course I do. It is my heritage.”

Grace scoffed. “You’ve never thought of anything but yourself in years, and we both know it.”

Nigel’s eyes narrowed and his hand dropped from his chest. “What is this about, Grace?”

“It’s about Polly’s Palace of Pleasure.”

Nigel reared back. His face lost color and his mouth went slack. “I—I—I have no idea what you’re speaking of.”

“Oh, please, Nigel. Like I would pull that name out of thin air.” She leaned forward. “I know all about it, and I will not hesitate to use that knowledge to protect my husband. What would Clara say, Nigel? More important, what would her father say? Oh, yes, I know of that, too. Debts that the Ashworth solicitors aren’t aware of but that your father-in-law pays. If Clara’s very Puritan father were to discover your frequent visits to Polly’s Palace of—”

“That’s enough,” Nigel hissed.

“—Pleasure, he would not be pleased. It seems Clara’s family members are God-fearing people, are they not, Nigel?” Grace tsked. “And to think that their son-in-law is frequenting such a place—”

“Stop this.” Nigel’s fingers dug into her arm. “I’ve heard enough. This is blackmail.”

She raised an eyebrow and yanked her aching arm out of his grasp. “Why, yes, it is.”

Nigel began breathing rapidly and clutching his heart. Grace seriously feared he was having some sort of attack, but she wasn’t about to back down now.

“I am not the only one who is aware of your…incli
nations. I have secured my own solicitor, and your dirty little secret is safe in his hands if something should happen to me. There is proof.” She let a beat of silence pass, allowing Nigel to absorb the information. “Do I have your word that you will no longer harass his lordship?”

The muscle in his jaw worked and his eyes narrowed. For a moment Grace questioned her wisdom of cornering him alone. But Jenny knew where she was, so that was some insurance, at least. And the solicitor had the instructions she’d left him if anything happened.

“Something is wrong with Michael,” Nigel repeated. “Covering it up won’t make it go away. Others will notice.”

“All anyone will ever notice is the younger brother grasping at anything he can to secure a title so he can pay his bills to fund his…eccent
ricities. Would that be the correct word to use, Nigel? Or perhaps something worse. Transgress
ions? Wickedness? Sin?”

He blanched, and his color went from pasty white to alarming gray.

“Give me your word, Nigel, and none of this will come to light. Unless I hear that you are snooping again.”

His mouth worked, but no sound came out other than a small squeak.

“Is that a yes?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Grace smiled. “Very well. Good day, then, my lord.” She walked out of the suite and closed the door behind her. She had to lean against the wall to catch her breath. Had she really just threatened Michael’s brother? Good Lord, but she felt like her knees were about to give out, and her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears, yet she felt surprisingly good. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She had no doubt that Nigel would comply with her wishes, and if he didn’t, she’d built some insurance into her plan. She had no problem following through with her threats.

Grace returned to Hadley Springs well after dinner that night. The staff had all gone to bed, and Michael was closed off in his room, as he was most nights anymore. Holding tight to her determination to topple his resistance, she found herself opening the connecting door to their rooms.

Since their appointment with Dr. Ridley, Michael had moved back into his bedroom at night. She missed him terribly and had decided that tonight she was going to change all of that.

The room was dark and quiet, and she worried that he wasn’t there. Michael had taken up his midnight wanderings. When she heard him late at night, it made her wonder why he didn’t sleep well on the nights they weren’t sleeping together.

Yet another reason to have him back in her bed.

Along with purchasing new gowns during her first trip to London, Grace had secretly purchased some very risqué nightwear. She’d never had a chance to wear it, but she’d donned it tonight, even though she was a bit uncomfortable in the almost transparent fabric.

He was in his bed, sprawled on his stomach, still wearing his trousers. His boots were on the floor, right where he had taken them off. His cravat was thrown carelessly on the chair, telling her that he had dismissed Tarik before readying for bed. His hair was mussed, and with his head turned sideways, she could see a full day’s worth of beard darkening his jawline.

He was breathing deeply and she hesitated to wake him, knowing he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. But the determination that burned inside her propelled her forward. Gathering her flagging courage, she took a deep breath and lifted her nightgown so she could put a knee on the bed and crawl up.

Michael shifted. Grace froze. He stopped moving and fell back into a deep sleep.

Grace moved slowly up the bed, not wanting to wake him just yet. He had filled out, gained weight in all the right places. His muscular shoulders tapered to a slim waist and a very tight rear end. His thigh muscles strained the fabric of his trousers. The sight of him made her flush all over. Heat crept over her skin, making it prickle in awareness.

Tossing caution to the wind, she threw a knee over him and straddled his back. He shifted again but didn’t awaken. This was her moment. She could do what she wanted, touch him how she wanted to touch him. The thought was so deliciously exciting that she felt her body’s response between her legs and in the sudden heaviness of her breasts.

She put her hand on his back and ran her fingers up his spine. His breathing hitched. His fingers twitched.

When she reached the top of his shoulders, she ran her hand back down, feeling each ridge in his spine. She moved both hands up his back, her touch firmer than it had been before. She was so excited that she could hear her own ragged breathing.

Michael’s eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.

She leaned forward until she was pressed against his back and her legs were splayed wide, opening up her center and making her gasp.

Michael groaned and moved his hips. He wasn’t awake, but his body was responding.

She pressed her lips against the tender skin at the base of his neck. He was so warm right there. She pressed another kiss behind his ear.

He squirmed beneath her, pushing his hips into the bed in short thrusts. His eyes shot open. “Grace?”

“Mmmm.” She pressed her aching breasts into his back, brushing the engorged nipples back and forth to relieve the pressure in them.

“What…are you…doing?”

“Making love to you.” She took the top of his ear between her teeth and clamped down lightly.

He groaned. His hips bucked. He tried to turn over, but she clamped her legs tight around him. “Don’t move,” she whispered.

“Ah, God, Gracie. You’re killing me.”

“Not my intention. I assure you.”

His breathing was harsh as he lay powerless beneath her. She reached between his legs and cupped his bullocks, causing him to jump and groan. She held them gently.

He frantically moved his hips, rubbing his engorged manhood into the bed, gasping and moaning each time he thrust.

She was so wet she could feel it dripping out of her. She was so far gone with this aching need that she was acting on pure instinct, her mind a haze of need and want and desire. “I can’t wait,” she whispered. “I need you inside me.”

Michael flipped over, catching her about the waist. “Finish it,” he rasped.

“What?”

“Finish.” He thrust his hips up, rubbing his enormous erection against that secret place inside her. Pinpricks of need shot through her, making her cry out. “Finish. It,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

She clawed at the fastenings of his trousers, nearly ripping the buttons off to get to that most important part of him.

Michael took her nightgown in his hands. Violently, he ripped the delicate fabric in two, baring her breasts. He roughly cupped them, kneading them with calloused fingers that felt so good, she cried out again. In the back of her mind, she realized she was rubbing her mound against his erection. She was racing toward her completion too quickly, and he wasn’t yet inside of her.

Michael yanked his trousers off. He grasped his manhood and guided it toward her opening, shoving his hips up to impale her. She threw her head back and cried out as he filled her completely.

Immediately, her release crashed around her, wave upon wave. She arched her back and clenched her eyes as the intense sensations rocketed through her.

Michael’s fingers dug into her hips. He thrust upward once, twice, and then he was crying out her name, surging up until he was half sitting, his face twisted in what appeared to be pain, but Grace knew better than that. She could feel the warm liquid spurting inside of her.

Her muscles clenched on him, unclenched, and clenched again. And when she thought she was finished, it started all over. She ground her hips into Michael’s, desperate to feel every inch of him. When she tried to open her eyes, the room swam. She gasped for breath, not even realizing she’d been holding her breath. Small aftershocks pulsed through her.

Michael collapsed. The only thing keeping Grace up was the fact that he was still inside her. She swayed as her body came down from the extremely magnificent sensations ebbing from her.

Eventually, she rolled off him. Michael gathered her to him, and she snuggled in to his side, relieved that for now he was allowing her close. “Don’t make me leave.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and hugged her to him. “No,” he said roughly.

Content with that promise for the moment, Grace felt her eyes grow too heavy to keep open, and she fell asleep in her husband’s arms.

Michael stared up at the ceiling, his arms full with his surprising, exciting wife. He should have known she wouldn’t allow him to push her away. He should have realized that the Grace he knew would fight back. Her choice of weapons surprised him, however.

A good surprise, to be sure.

Even now, his body limp and exhausted, he felt himself stirring at just the memory of her straddling him, her sex right there for him to see, and the powerless feeling he’d had when he realized she had neatly and effectively pinned him. He didn’t mind waking up to that at all.

Beside him, she sighed and moved closer. She was warm and pliant, her breasts pressed against his side. He closed his eyes and opened his other senses. But the sense of smell eluded him. He remembered what sex smelled like, and he imagined that the scent was all over their bodies and permeating the room.

He wanted to roll her over and thrust inside her again, but he refrained. She was tired and he was…He was trying to put distance between them, although that wasn’t working out as he had planned. He’d kept himself from her bed because he was powerless against her. Because at night she destroyed every defense he’d tried to fashion during the day.

He leaned his cheek against the top of her head and imagined that he was a whole man who didn’t have to rely on others to get through the day. For a few moments he tricked himself into believing that the war had never happened and that it was two years in the past and they were young lovers with a bright future ahead.

Tomorrow he would awaken and reality would come crashing back. But for now he pushed reality away and let himself believe. And let himself hold his wife, because when she was close like this, it was the only time the darkness that surrounded him disappeared.