“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. “Never touch me again.” She spun, then fled the room to her own. It was only after she closed the door between them that she realized most of her clothing was still in his room. Not knowing what else to do, she burrowed into the cold bed, the fire having gone out hours before and pulled the covers over her head. Then, the tears started. He’d promised to marry her and he was going back on his word. She should have known better than to give herself over to a rake.
Grace should have known better than to take him at his word. Hadn’t her mother warned her that her virtue was her greatest asset? Of course she knew her sisters and her cousins had broken that rule, but she wasn’t them. Men adored them, found them deep, interesting, strong. She hiccupped. At least she did still have her maidenhead and if her family was here, her reputation might stay intact.
Everyone was always telling her to be kinder, more considerate, less selfish. Perhaps this was the lesson she needed. She’d be a better person and find a man who would love that woman. Tossing the covers back off her body, she rose in the freezing room, wrapping a blanket about herself and crossed back over to the connecting door.
She opened the door to find Ben exactly where she’d left him, his face in his hands. He looked up as the door clicked open and only then did she realize that she should have looked at her face first. It was likely red and puffy. “I forgot my clothes.”
He stood and began collecting up the garments. “Your room must be freezing. I can feel the draft from here.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she answered, straightening. She couldn’t look into his eyes. “Don’t worry about me.”
He stopped in front of her and handed her the bundle of clothes. “As long as I live, I will worry about you, Lady Grace.” Then he gently moved her and walked into her room. “Let me get the fire going. You start dressing in here.”
She clutched the blanket tighter. He’d worry about her for as long as he lived? What did that mean?
* * *
Bad knew he’d upset her, but he wasn’t entirely certain what he’d done wrong. Well, that was partially true. He’d dealt with women before. Emotional creatures the lot of them. He’d likely hurt her feelings but he’d done it for her own good.
She could and should have any man she wanted. He poked at the fire, getting a few of the coals to ignite the new wood he’d placed on the embers. Why should she have to settle for a scarred, socially inept barbarian of a man?
He pulled back the poker, realizing that he’d been jabbing the wood. Memories from the night before flooded his thoughts. He’d worshipped every part of her body as she’d bloomed underneath him. He might never be able to touch another woman again. She tasted sweeter, felt softer, hell, she even moaned at the exact pitch that sent his senses reeling. And then there were the times they weren’t in bed. Even today, she challenged him, pushed him to be a better man. And he liked that about her. She was slowly but surely bringing out the best in him.
Her corset lay across the table and he picked the garment up, determined to set things right with Grace.
Walking to the connecting door, he softly knocked. “Grace, I have your corset.”
The door cracked open and a hand reached through. Her long slender fingers opened and closed indicating for him to pass her the garment. He bent down and kissed the back of her fingers instead.
“Don’t,” she bit out.
He reached for her hand and slowly opened it again so that he might lay a kiss on her palm. “I think you misunderstood me earlier.”
“I did not. You said you would marry me and then you withdrew your offer.”
“No, that is not what I said.” He reached fo
r the door and pushed it open a bit wider. Grace now stood in her chemise and he tried not to frown in disappointment. No woman had ever looked so good naked. “What I said was if you wished to choose someone else, you still could. I didn’t say I wouldn’t marry you. I’m giving you the choice. That’s all.”
Silence met his words but her hand went limp in his. “You did say that, didn’t you?”
“I’m not the likely choice for your hand, love.” He brought her palm to his lips again. “Think that over before you decide.”
She stepped closer to him, her head tilting up toward his. “Will you help me dress?”
“Of course,” he answered. Truth be told, he wanted to strip her clothes back off and tuck her back into his bed.
Helping her put her clothes back on and then watching her dress her hair was a form of lovely torture. But when she was ready, he held out his elbow to take her down for breakfast. It was time to reunite her with her family.
His chest tightened as he forced his feet to move. He wanted to keep her all for himself.
Chapter Eleven
They entered the common room and Grace looked around. She’d half expected various members of her family to be sitting in a row waiting for her.
But only a few stray guests sat about, drinking tea and eating biscuits. “What should we do?”
Bad gave her a sidelong glance. “Eat our breakfast.”