‘No matter.’ Wolf dropped down beside her. ‘We will be in Arrandale in time for breakfast.’
The silence settled comfortably around them. An owl hooted softly in the distance and Grace instinctively moved closer to Wolf, who put his arm about her.
‘Do not tell me you are afraid of the dark,’ he teased her gently.
She chuckled. ‘Not at all. You are softer to lean against than a tree trunk.’
Her head had fallen to his shoulder. It was so comfortable resting against him, breathing in the faint but unmistakable masculine scent. She must sleep now, but perhaps, when she woke, she might turn her face up to his for another kiss. A delicious sense of anticipation filled her at the thought. She put her hand against his chest and snuggled closer.
‘Excuse me, I must check the horses.’
He eased himself away and Grace bit back a little mewl of disappointment. Hot tears pressed against the back of her eyes. She felt bereft, in need of comfort. Wolf was talking softly to the horses and she hoped he would come back to her soon. She felt safe when he was near, even though she knew she should not feel safe at all, especially when she was consumed by such a yearning to have him make love to her.
The memory of his kisses made her body hot then cold, as if a huge hand was squeezing her insides and turning them to water. She thought of what could happen here, in this sheltered glade. Helping her father in the parish, she knew the dangers of being too free with a man, but somehow that was of no consequence now. She wanted Wolf to lie with her and satisfy the aching longing that gnawed at her.
She would be ruined, of course. And there could be no question of marrying Loftus, but that seemed unimportant. She had always known she did not love Loftus, to cry off would hurt his pride, but not his heart. But what of her professed love for Henry? She had always believed she could never love anyone else but now she knew she loved Wolf Arrandale, and although nothing could come of it, she wanted to give herself to him, to feel the comfort of his arms, his body. Just once. Was that disloyal to Henry? It was strange that she should face this question now, when her mind and body were so tired, but perhaps that was why she could think of it, while her mind was clear of all the other obstacles.
Henry was dead. She had loved him, part of her would always love him, but Wolf had shown her that she could love again. What would Henry say to that, if he knew? She yawned and felt herself slipping further into sleep even as her imagination discussed it with him.
* * *
Wolf stood by his horse, smoothing the velvet nose and breathing deeply to fight down the desire that raged through his body. He had needed to get away from Grace and the almost unbearable temptation of having her in his arms, her body pressed so comfortably against his. She was a parson’s daughter, a virgin. She had risked everything to help him and he would not repay her by seducing her.
Why not?whispered the devil on his shoulder.She wants you, she was almost giving herself to you.
He closed his eyes. She was a lady. He knew she would not be able to enjoy a brief liaison and then walk away without being hurt.
You could marry her.
No.
Even if by some miracle he could prove his innocence, the stains of his past life could not be eradicated. She was too good for him, he could never make her happy.
You do not know that.
The devil would not be silenced.
Put it to her. Lay your heart and hand before her and let her decide. She is a woman and capable of making her own choices.
He stilled.
‘I could do that,’ he murmured as the horse snuffled softly and pushed against his hand. For the first time he saw a glimmer of hope.
She believes I am innocent. She has risked everything to help me. Perhaps, after all, she might care enough to marry me.
He straightened his shoulders. It would be her choice. He would move heaven and earth to prove his innocence and make her mistress of Arrandale, but if not, if he failed, they could live abroad, content with each other’s company.
If she truly loved him.
She certainly did not love her fiancé and Wolf decided if Grace was going to throw herself away on a man it should be him. He would love her as she should be loved. He would worship her.
Wolf’s spirits rose higher than they had done for a long time as he walked back to Grace. In the darkness he could just make out her soft shape, wrapped in the cloak. Silently he lay down beside her and rested his hand on the swell of her hip, felt the dip where it fell away to the dainty waist and his blood heated again. He would wait for the parson to marry them, if she wished it, but if she wanted him now... He closed his eyes. It must be her choice.
‘Grace, love.’
She stirred. ‘You understand, do you not, my dear? Oh, Henry.’
The words were soft as a sigh but there was no mistaking them, or the name she spoke so tenderly.
* * *
Wolf rolled away. Disappointment, bitter as gall, flooded through him. Stifling a groan, he turned to look at her. In the darkness her face was no more than a pale blur, but in his mind it was clear. He knew every detail of it, the straight little nose, the determined mouth and those dark lashes that now fanned out over her ivory cheek.
‘Oh, Grace.’ Wolf dropped a kiss lightly on her sleeping head. ‘That puts you out of my reach more surely than an ocean. I cannot compete with a dead man.’
