Page 9 of The Trouble with a Dare

“Well then. We met at the market and I….” A look of distaste crossed his features. “I’ve been courting you in secret ever since.”

Grace felt an uncomfortable squirming sensation in the pit of her belly and shook her head. It was a horribly scandalous thing for an honourable man to do, to meet her in secret without her parents’ knowledge. “No, Mr Oak, that is not fair to you, that people will think you the kind of man—”

“I don’t care about that,” he said brusquely, which was patently untrue.

“Mr Oak—”

“No!”

He did not shout, but he spoke with such force that Grace jumped.

“I beg your pardon,” he said at once.

Grace shook her head, though her nerves were jangling. “It’s of no matter,” she said, avoiding his eye.

There was a muttered curse and he moved quickly to crouch before her once more. “I did not mean to bully you, I…”

Grace looked up, hearing the sincerity in his voice.

“I can wear those who think me a vile seducer, for I’ll be forgiven easy enough. ’Tis the way of many men to take what they want, and they don’t suffer for it. You would suffer if people made up their own stories, and that I won’t have.”

She studied his face, wishing she could read him, but he seemed as distant as a star and just as untouchable despite his words. Of course, he would want everyone to believe the child was his. A man had his pride. He’d rather people think him responsible than that he was acting out of charity. As for her pride, well, she had forfeited that, and she must let her husband do as he thought best. He was protecting her, no matter his motivation.

“I’ll do as you wish, Mr Oak. If anyone asks, we met at the market in my village. I am certain my parents would say that they knew of our courting and approved, though.”

“I don’t want them to have to lie for me,” he said, frowning down at the carpet.

“They’re not lying for you, Mr Oak.”

He must have heard the misery behind the words, for he looked up sharply.

“As you like, then,” he said, his voice gentler than she’d heard it before. “You’ll explain to them?”

Grace nodded. “They’ve gone for a walk with the earl and his wife, or they would have greeted you.”

“It was you I came to see.”

Grace gave him a tentative smile which was not returned, though she felt the weight of his scrutiny. Racking her brain for something to say to him, she remembered the little wooden fox he had given to her for her birthday.

“Thank you for my gift. It was beautiful, such fine workmanship. Did you make it?”

He got to his feet and shrugged, looking strangely diffident. “Aye. It wasn’t a fit gift. Only a trifle. I’ll get you something better.”

“I don’t want something better,” she said, perhaps a little precipitously, but his gift had touched her. It had made her hope there was a gentler side to the man that she could not yet see. She did not wish to be disillusioned before they were even wed.

His eyes sharpened, and she had the horrid suspicion she had offended him.

“Why not? Do you think I cannot afford it, or do you think it a frivolous waste to spend money on presents?”

Grace stared at him, a little taken aback by the demand, by the intensity of his gaze.

“N-Neither,” she said, uncertain of what had so upset him. “It reassured my father after you spoke to him. He said you are a successful man with excellent prospects, and I am sure I enjoy presents as much as the next person, frivolous or otherwise. I only meant that I liked your gift very much and valued it. I liked that you made it for me. D-Did you make it for me? It must have taken a long time to create something so lovely.”

Whatever Grace had said to provoke such a reaction, she must have answered the question to his satisfaction, for the tension in his big shoulders ebbed and the vibrating friction in the air dissipated. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and appeared rather sheepish, which was a startling thing in a man of his size.

“Aye, I made it for you. I’m glad it pleased you,” he said gruffly. “I’d best be going.”

With that, he strode to the door.