Page 17 of Grace in Glasgow (Seduced in Scotland #3)

J ames stilled as he glanced down the staircase to find Grace and a broad-shouldered gentleman, speaking with one another.

Oddly, for a night that had been merely irritating, he was surprised to feel the muscles in his back tense and his heart rate increase, more so than his current aggravation seemed to warrant.

He hadn’t wanted to come to the opera tonight, but he had done so at the behest of Lady Belle, who had sent him a letter, requesting that he escort the elderly Baroness of Glengirth as a personal favor.

Why he had agreed to it, when he had already done enough for that woman he did not know, but a deep, instinctual part of him couldn’t seem to ignore her.

He blamed his own aunt, for having instilled in him a need to help those who requested it and his good deed had not gone unpunished.

For the last two hours, his aging companion had complained about the noise of the crowd, the lack of vocal ranges of the entertainers, disparaged James’s upbringing as well as asked in an endless number of questions regarding the phantom pains the baroness was convinced she was suffering.

Usually, James was more patient when someone was describing pains, but when the baroness revealed that they were actually the old riding injury suffered by her deceased husband, and how she believed they had been transferred to her by his ghost, well, that had been enough.

He had very nearly told her that her imagination was the only illness she had when the old woman ordered him to find her a cool refreshment, right in the middle of the second act.

So, he had sighed and thanked whatever being above for the opportunity to escape for a few minutes. It was annoying, and yet, his irritation seemed to expand into a proper rage at the sight before him.

Grace was dressed in a gown of pale peach, covered in a sheer chocolate overlay, and James fought to swallow.

He had seen her in practical dresses, but this was different.

She had been styled with purpose. Dark brown curls were piled on top of her head, with one errant strand falling down at the side, just behind her left ear.

Her long neck was exposed and the wide, scooping neckline displayed the roundedness of the top of her breasts.

James swallowed again.

Grace was wearing her usual smirk, the one that seemed perpetually on her lips, particularly whenever she was about to say something clever.

He had come to expect it in the days since Grace had started coming to his office for work, yet to see her now, smiling at a man he did not know, well, if he didn’t know any better he might have guessed that the emotion he was experiencing at the moment was jealousy, but…

No. James was not jealous. Why should he be? Because Grace was smirking that same infuriating little grin that had seemed exclusively for him?

He took a step down, wanting very much to ignore the pair, but then stopped when her gaze met his and that irksome smile disappeared.

There was only a brief moment then, before the man noticed that he had lost Grace’s attention, where she stared at James, but he felt a deep, thunderous beat in his chest suddenly.

It was singular yet profound, and for all his days to come, he knew it to be a pivotal moment in his life.

But at that moment, all he could comprehend was that they saw each other and even that was almost too much.

The wide-shouldered gentleman turned then and to James’s surprise, he knew him.

“Dr. Hall!” Mr. Milton said, turning as he climbed the several steps that separated them. “I didn’t know you were in attendance tonight.”

“I…” He tried, his focus still on Grace, who appeared suddenly anxious. He blinked and turned to Milton. “I’m afraid I’ve been summoned tonight.”

“A better man I know not,” Mr. Milton said cheerfully as he turned back to Grace. “There was never a man more willing to toil in the muck and mire as Dr. Hall. Oh, forgive me, I haven’t introduced you. Dr. Hall, this is—”

“Grace Sharpe, yes,” he said as Grace slowly climbed the steps to meet them. “We know each other.”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Grace said finally, her voice slightly breathless, causing a part of James to wonder why. “Dr. Hall and I have the same mentor. I’ve come to Glasgow to study under him.”

“Oh,” Mr. Milton said, his brow lifted. “So, you are her teacher?”

“No.”

James silently cursed at himself for his blunt response.

The hurt that flashed in Grace’s eyes was enough to bother him, but there was something about being called her teacher that felt wrong.

He was, in every sense of the word, teaching her medicine, but the power balance seemed inexcusably skewed.

If she were a man, he’d likely have no trouble being introduced as a teacher, but there were other things at play.

Her rank in society, her cleverness and determination.

The way she became still whenever anyone spoke, as if she were not only taking in every word, but every detail.

It was heartening and yet, it couldn’t be because he didn’t want to think of her as someone that had any effect on his heart.

No, God forbid she did that.

“I mean, yes,” he said, remembering himself.

This was not a situation that he wished to have any part in and he wanted nothing to do with Grace Sharpe, or any of her personal relationships.

It would be best to remove himself from this little tête-à-tête.

He needed to walk away that instant, or he might do or say something that would ruin whatever reservation he had left. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Moving past the two, he was already down the steps when he heard Grace speak.

“If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Milton, I believe Dr. Hall might be able to help with my task.”

“Of course. Until next time, Miss Sharpe.”

James felt trapped. Whatever he was meant to be doing out here, he had forgotten and suddenly he wished to leave the opera house altogether. But then the gentle graze of fingertips on his sleeve stalled him. He turned around to see Grace’s amber eyes watching him.

“I’m sorry to have interrupted you. Please, do not let me hinder you.”

She frowned and glanced back toward the stairs where Mr. Milton was no longer.

“You mean Mr. Milton? I’ve only just met him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“It certainly seemed you and your new acquaintance are on friendly terms. I would have guessed you met before.”

“I’m afraid not. I was only just introduced to him this evening by my aunt.”

The mention of Lady Belle set a bitter taste in James’s mouth.

“Yes, your aunt. Tell me, is it her fault that you’re out of the opera box, wandering the halls unaccompanied?”

Grace tilted her head.

“Yes, actually. She requested some sort of medicine she had left in the carriage.”

That got his attention.

“Medicine? What medicine?”

“My reaction exactly.”

“An usher couldn’t handle the task?”

Grace sighed and her chest rose. James had to avert his eyes, lest he appear to be staring at her.

“She insisted that I do it.”

There was no possible way for Lady Belle to know that the Baroness Glengirth would have requested a refreshment at the same time Grace was sent to gather medicine, yet James couldn’t help but feel as if the entire meeting had been orchestrated.

But really, that was likely his imagination running away with him. Good Lord, he sounded like the baroness. So instead, he held out his arm to her.

“Come. I shan’t let you go out into the Glasgow night to search carriages without at least an escort.”

The familiar, warm grin appeared on Grace’s face and James had to mentally beat down the pleasure that shattered in his chest at the sight of it.

He repeated his mantra silently as she stepped toward him and gently placed her hand in the crook of his arm.

But the moment she touched him, all ability to control his inner dialogue was lost.

“You know, Dr. Hall, if you continue to be so agreeable, I’m going to have to take back the things I said to my sisters about you.”

They stepped out into the chilly night air, which felt more welcoming than he imagined it might.

“You’ve spoken about me to your sisters?”

“Oh yes. Particularly after Aunt Belle’s birthday ball.”

Ah, the night he told her he wouldn’t allow her to shadow him.

He had often replayed their conversation from that night in his mind, particularly the first part, when she wished to speak with him alone.

It would be too embarrassing to reveal to her now that he had first assumed she wished to speak to him as well… It didn’t matter now.

“I suspect it wasn’t at all pleasant.” James waved to a footman. “Lady Belle Smyth’s carriage?”

The man leaned back, glancing down the street.

“It’s about eight carriages down, sir. I can get it for you?”

“That won’t be necessary, thank you,” James said as he and Grace turned down the road. He glanced down at her. “Your silence is telling.”

“I will not lie. I didn’t speak very generously about you, but I’m afraid my own pride is the reason for that.”

“How so?”

“Well, I hadn’t considered what my request might mean for you. That is to say, I understand the weight of having a female student. The issues it could cause between you and your other responsibilities, including colleagues and the like—”

“Miss Sharpe, I do not care what my colleagues think.”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Then why were you so against the idea of my shadowing you? Dr. Barkley made it sound as if you were against the whole situation.”

James counted, six, seven, eight until they reached the carriage, trying very hard to ignore her questioning as well as the scent of her. Why was she so intoxicatingly sweet smelling? The truth was too embarrassing to tell and yet, to refuse her an answer felt equally as damning.

He opened the carriage door and climbed in.

“What does the medicine look like?” he asked as he began smoothing his hand over the velvet cushioned seats.