Saving Grace (41 page)

“Will you do me the honor, Miss Thatcher?” He turned to Grace so there could be no confusion as to which Miss Thatcher he was requesting.

Grace bit her lip as she glanced at her sister, but to Nicholas’s surprise, Helen smiled encouragingly.

“Oh please do dance, Grace. I should love to watch you.”

His mother arrived at that moment, which seemed to further alleviate Grace’s worry over her charge.

“I’ll be back shortly,” she said, taking Nicholas’s arm and allowing him to lead her to the middle of the ballroom.

Though no other couples had taken the floor, the violinists started up the moment Grace turned to face him. Nicholas grinned in response to the perplexed look that crossed her face.

“Where is everyone else? We cannot dance a set by ourselves.”

“This is not a set dance,” Nicholas replied. “It is the first dance of the evening, and it is a waltz.”

Her eyes grew large. She lowered her voice as if those along the sides of the room might somehow overhear. “Grandfather said the waltz is riotous and indecent.”

“Your grandfather was very wise.” Nicholas’s grin widened as he stepped forward, taking one of her hands in his and placing his other hand at the small of her back.

“Whatever are you thinking?” Her whispering turned urgent. “Have I not caused scandal enough?”

“Precisely.” Nicholas said, meeting her gaze, looking at her in such a way that she would be unable to mistake it for anything but desire. “At the last ball,
you
were the cause of scandal. Tonight ... it is my turn.”

“Your —”

“Follow my lead.” He stepped forward, and she back, and it was started — an elegant gliding in time with the violins’ music. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder. He held her gaze as they turned about the floor.

“Why are you doing this?” Grace asked, her face scarlet.

“For the same reason you insisted upon ruining your reputation,” Nicholas said, leading her from the center of the floor, toward the fringes. He wanted everyone present to see them, to witness what he felt for her.

“You think that by waltzing with me, you will not have to marry?” Grace asked, sounding even more confused and not a little hurt.

“That is not why you made the sacrifice that you did,” Nicholas said. “It had very little to do with yourself — as is the case with most of what you do. Indeed, you are the most unselfish person I have ever known.” He located the Ellises and turned toward them. “You sacrificed yourself because you love your sister. You were trying to protect her.”

Grace gave no argument to that but lowered her gaze so he could not see her expression. Nicholas took his hand from her back for the briefest second and tilted her chin up so she had to look at him.

“I am dancing this waltz with you — not nearly such an act of danger and bravery as yours was — because I want to protect you. By the end of this night, everyone here will know that I have little use for scandal. They may think what they will of the Sutherland name. But they will think only one thing of
your
name, and it will be that you belong here, and that Mother and I hold you in the highest regard. After this dance, everyone will be talking, not of you, but of
us
.”

The music slowed, and Nicholas raised his left hand above their heads. Grace followed his lead, her hand coming up in the same fashion to clasp his. Nicholas caught her waist and pulled her closer as they turned around in a tight circle.

Were more dances like this, men would not be so averse to attending balls.

She did not lower her gaze again, and she did not look away, either. He found he could not keep his eyes from her face, had he wanted to. The jade of her gown brought out the deepest green of her eyes, making them even more entrancing. They seemed full of emotion, and Nicholas watched as they changed from disbelief, to hope, to some other, unfathomable emotion — one she appeared to be fighting. Before the night was out, he intended to know what it was and to have her doubt removed.

His gaze slid to her lips, full and rosy with color and begging to be kissed.

“The way you are staring at me is —”

“Scandalous?” he suggested, with a raise of his brow.

The gesture earned him a smile, the first of many this evening, he hoped.

“Yes.”

So close were they, he almost felt her whispered breath.

“I do hope so,” Nicholas said. He forced his gaze from her mouth and glanced about the room. “And I hope everyone here notices the same. I have eyes only for you, Miss Thatcher.”

Eyes and hands and my heart.

“Not for Beatrice — Meddlesome?”

Nicholas laughed. “Middleton. And no, most definitely not for her. Do I detect envy, Miss Thatcher?”

“Perhaps,” Grace admitted in her characteristically honest way.

He pulled her closer, endeared by the confession.

The music changed, and with reluctance, he returned to holding her hand at his side and dancing farther apart. More couples — those brave enough to dance a waltz — joined them on the floor, and Nicholas swept Grace in and out among them, making sure they circled the room so all would see the beautiful woman in his arms and know how he felt about her.

When the dance ended, her face was still flushed, though Nicholas suspected, or rather hoped, that it was from more than embarrassment. He returned her to Helen and his mother.

“Well done,” Lady Sutherland said, clapping. She bestowed a beaming smile upon them both.

“It was lovely,” Helen agreed. “I could never dance like that.”

“Nor should you,” Grace said, with a sideways glance at Nicholas.

He answered with a wicked grin. “If you will excuse me a moment, ladies, I must greet our latest arrivals.” He bowed and turned away only to see Samuel Preston coming toward them, just entering the ballroom.

Nicholas could not quite believe that Preston had the audacity to come.
And I didn’t even have the pleasure of watching him suffer through the first dance.
Instead of leaving to greet other guests as he had planned, Nicholas stayed at Grace’s side. He watched as Preston scanned the room and stopped when he’d spotted them. Without hesitation, he began making his way over.

Nicholas moved closer to Grace and placed his hand at her elbow. “Are you thirsty after our dance? Would you like some refreshment?”

Before Grace could answer, Helen exclaimed, “Mr. Preston!”

Helen rose to greet him, exhibiting more enthusiasm than Nicholas had seen from her yet. Grace, too, seemed to take notice and watched their exchange.

“Good evening, Miss Helen.” Preston gave a brief bow, then turned to Grace. “Hello, Grace.”

“Miss Thatcher to you,” Nicholas snarled, stepping forward. He felt Grace’s restraining hand upon his arm. He glanced at her and caught the pleading look she sent to Preston.

“My apologies,” Preston said. “Miss Thatcher, Lord Sutherland. Lady Sutherland.” He waited expectantly after addressing Nicholas’s mother, but she did not return his greeting.

“It was good of you to invite me,” Preston said. “It is good to be here again.” He glanced round the room.

Do not count on it being a frequent invitation.

“Miss Thatcher,” Preston asked. “May I request the pleasure of your company for the next set?”

Helen’s face came alight, and a timid smile curved her lips, but it was to Grace that Preston held his hand, stepping in front of Nicholas to reach her.

“I — of course,” she said, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her away.

Nicholas watched them go, feeling as stunned as her sister looked. “Would you care to dance?” he asked her in the softest tone he could muster. When she shrank back, he added, “I do not bite, you know.”

“No, thank you, sir — milord. I am not a very good dancer.”

Rather than press the issue, Nicholas gave her a curt nod. “Excuse me, Mother,” he said, and left them. He made his way around the room, searching for another partner, and found one in Beatrice Middleton.

As quickly as she replied in the affirmative, he guided her to the center of the floor, practically pulling her along until they were standing near Grace and Preston already in formation for a quadrille.

This ought to be amusing,
he thought, staring across the square at Grace and Preston. Grace had paled considerably since their last meeting, but Preston had his chest puffed out proudly, as if he were well aware that he had the most prized partner in the room.

The dance began, and they bowed to their partner and corners. Beatrice was grinning so, Nicholas thought he saw every one of her teeth. It was not pleasant.

They walked toward the center, exchanging places with Grace and Preston. As Nicholas passed Grace, he took her hand a little more firmly than required and gave it a squeeze as if to remind her:
You are mine.

On their return pass, she whisked her hand away before he could grab it and shot him a look as if to say,
don’t you dare.
Nicholas felt a need to rise to her silent challenge.

He escorted Miss Middleton around the circle, twice making eye contact with Preston, who appeared completely unaffected by their surroundings, completely unaware of anything or anyone but Grace.

How was it he came so easily to call her by her name?
Unease stirred Nicholas’s gut, his earlier suspicions slamming into him forcefully. He’d put his heart and reputation on the line with the first dance.
What is Preston up to?

Grace and Miss Middleton met in the center, each with a rather tense smile in place. Nicholas reached out, eagerly taking Grace as his partner.

“You’re glowering,” she hissed. “Stop it.” It was as much of a demand as he’d ever heard from her, and it surprised him.

He recalled her words on their drive weeks ago.
No longer will I be afraid of you.

Tonight it wasn’t Grace he was trying to scare, but Preston.

The dance continued — far too long and boring, as far as he was concerned. Each time he got close enough to touch Grace, she pulled away in as discreet a manner as possible, as if she feared he might pick her up and carry her off the dance floor.

A rather good idea.

As they sashayed around the circle, he faced her for more than a second or two. “If you want me to stop glowering, get him to leave.” Nicholas inclined his head toward Preston, on the other side of the circle.

“You are frightening my sister,” Grace said. “She looks about to cry.”

They moved apart once more, and when he’d the opportunity, Nicholas looked over at Helen, who was still cowering in her chair. She did indeed look close to tears, but he suspected it had little to do with him and quite a bit to do with the fact that her sister was dancing with Preston.

Nicholas took Miss Middleton’s hand and paraded her across the circle in the most ridiculous of steps. He’d forgotten how much he hated the quadrille.

The circle dissolved into two sets for the star. Nicholas put his hand into the center, joining Miss Middleton’s, Grace’s, and Preston’s. As the star turned, his gaze found Preston’s, and he issued another silent threat.

You cannot have her. You had Elizabeth, but you will not have Grace.

At last, the wretched dance ended. Preston escorted Grace from the dance floor, and Nicholas had no choice but to do the same for Miss Middleton, who was busily chatting away at his side. He returned her to her parents on the opposite side of the ballroom but was then delayed by her sisters and mother exclaiming over the house, the refreshments, and everything else he gave little care about.

By the time he was free of them, Grace was nowhere to be found.

Nor was Preston.

Nicholas returned to his mother, now alone, as the other Miss Thatcher was no longer in her chair.

“Have you seen Grace?”

“Out in the hall,” his mother said. “Remember your promise to Elizabeth,” she called, answering his next question before he could answer it.

Preston is with her.
He strode toward the doors, thinking of the kissing ball hanging just outside them, of the possibility that this time he might not be able to honor his word.

Grace wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the night’s chill as she waited outside with Samuel for his carriage to arrive.

“I shouldn’t have come,” he said. “Nicholas is angry.”

“He is only jealous,” Grace said. “He has been ever so much better lately. I really think you ought to consider letting Beth —”

He pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. “Kingsley is behind us,” he whispered. “Standing guard on the step.”

“I think he has grown rather fond of me,” Grace said. “I do hope this will not sour his opinion.”

“I am leaving in a moment,” Samuel said, stamping his feet, as if to show that he, too, was not enjoying standing out in the cold. “I don’t like to be away on Christmas Eve. I came only because I had to see for myself that you are well. You haven’t been in the garden for weeks.”

“It’s winter,” Grace said, knowing it was a meager excuse and that Samuel deserved better.

“That day on the road —”

“Please,” Grace said. “I don’t wish to speak of it. It is in the past. Nicholas has apologized, and there has not been another incident since.”