Page 64 of The Trouble with a Dare

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly. “Have you come to cause trouble?”

He shook his head, his blue eyes oddly uncertain. This man had never been uncertain before, only ever sure of himself, the arrogant devil.

“No. I swear, I haven’t. I know I ought not to have come but I had to, had to see that you were well. You are well, Grace? This… This Oak fellow, he treats you kindly?”

She stared at him, incredulous. “You cast me aside like I was nothing, and now… now you want to be sure I’m well?” she demanded, hardly able to get the words out she was so incensed.

To her astonishment, his colour rose. “I know. I know you must hate me, and I don’t blame you. I… I behaved—”

A look of such disgust and shame crossed his face, Grace wondered if she was having some peculiar waking dream. It was the only explanation.

“There are not words, but I will never forgive myself for what I did, so I do not expect you to do so either.”

“Good, for I shan’t,” Grace said crisply, folding her arms.

He nodded and raked a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to apologise for… for everything. I’ve changed, Grace. I’m not… not the man I was, and I know you won’t want anything from me, but I needed to let you know that if there was ever anything, anything at all I can do for you, or for… for the babe, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“Why? Why now?”

He shrugged, staring down at the ground. “Rather a long story. Of no interest to you, I know. Just know that I got my comeuppance, and I learned a lesson.”

Grace stared at him, puzzled. “Did someone find out?” she demanded, wondering if it had been someone she knew who had taken revenge for her. Had her father…?

“No.” He shook his head. “Nothing like that. No one knows, Grace.”

He seemed disinclined to tell her more and Grace realised she did not wish to know. This man had been a mistake and she had consigned him to the past. He could stay there. His gaze drifted to the wheeled bassinet and Grace stepped in front of it, keeping her daughter from view.

“If you’ve any plans to cause trouble, to take my daughter away—”

“What? Christ, no. No!” he exclaimed, shaking his head. “A daughter?” He let out an unsteady but almost reverent breath.

“She’s ours now. Mine and Sterling’s.”

He nodded, his face etched with grief. “I know I’ve no right, none, and I shan’t make trouble for you, and certainly not for her. I would never hurt her, Grace. No more than I’ve already done, at least. She’s not mine now, I know that. I know I forfeited the right, but I would like you to believe that I would help you both, if ever you needed it.”

She sent him a contemptuous look. This man had always had enough pretty words to match his pretty face, but they were shallow and empty. He’d proven that.

“We need nothing from you. We have a wonderful home and Sterling Oak is the best man that ever lived. He took us in, and he was kind. He loves us, both of us, and we love him, and he’ll kill you if he finds you here, so you’d best leave. Now.”

He nodded, his handsome face blanched white. “I’ll go, and I won’t come back, but… but might I see her? Just once, Grace. Please?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to deny him, for why should he see her beautiful girl when he would have cast her aside like so much rubbish? But, though Grace felt sure she was likely a thousand times a fool, she felt that his grief was sincere. Whatever had happened, whatever had made him have this change of heart, it had been profound. Despite her misgivings, she stepped aside and allowed him to move closer to Betty.

He caught his breath as he gazed down at her, and Grace watched, a little astonished as he reached out a trembling hand and touched her cheek.

“She’s so beautiful, like her mother. What’s her name?”

“Beatrice Oak,” Grace said sharply, wanting him gone.

He nodded, staring at the baby. “You’re a lucky girl, Beatrice Oak. Luckier than you know.”

“I want you to go now.”

“Yes,” he said, turning back to Grace. “I shan’t trouble you again. Either of you. I give you my word of honour, for what that’s worth,” he added with a bitter laugh.

“Perhaps you’ll make it so that it’s worth more than it used to be,” Grace said, wishing he would just leave.

“I will,” he said, and though she had heard too many of his empty promises before, she felt perhaps he meant this one. “I swear I will.”