Page 36

W olfe stood beside the fence row, watching Grace tromp across the field with her hounds. She appeared to be trying to instill some semblance of discipline into the seven half-grown pups that would probably never go to different homes—especially if Grace, Connor, and Sissy had their way about it.

He propped his arms atop the wooden rail and leaned against the fence. He didn’t care if they ended up with a thousand dogs at Wolfebourne Lodge as long as Grace was his forevermore.

She had fought like a lioness, protecting his brother and sister with no thought to the rumors her actions would trigger.

Gratitude and adoration did not begin to describe all he felt for her.

The woman amazed him, humbled him, and he loved her with a terrifying fury.

If he’d had his way about it, they too would have eloped to Gretna Green and returned to Binnocksbourne as man and wife.

But she wished to wait because of the damage she’d done to the annual Broadmere picnic.

The gossips would retell the story about this year’s event for ages to come, and his softhearted wife-to-be felt guilty about spoiling her sister Serendipity’s perfect day even though it was not entirely Grace’s fault.

If any one person should shoulder the blame, it was him.

He was the common thread running through the entire tapestry of all that had gone wrong that day.

At his feet, Gastric groaned and rolled over, turning the other side of his pink belly toward the sun.

Galileo perched atop the nearest fencepost, the stoic feline war general overseeing the troops’ training.

Hector bounced alongside Grace, attempting to help her keep the puppies and older hounds herded in some semblance of order.

Connor and Sissy were enjoying a day with their friends in the village.

The vicar and his wife had invited all the children known to have taken part in spying on the Longmortens to enjoy a day of serving the church by sprucing up the grounds, followed by a much calmer picnic that was not fraught with such astonishing gossip.

The couple had also promised to instill a proper biblical sense of that which was right and that which was wrong in the young ones, but Wolfe suspected the vicar and his wife also wanted access to any additional on dit that the children might not have already shared about his former fiancée, her mother, and their lover, Sir Andrew.

The man of the cloth and his spouse had been quite entranced by all the truths that had come to light at the Broadmere picnic.

A glance back at the line of great, sprawling oaks shading the outskirts of the manicured grounds surrounding the manor house revealed the remainder of the Broadmere family and extended families.

They were not about to grant Wolfe and Grace any compromising time to themselves, and from the look of it, they fully intended to guard her virtue en masse.

He didn’t care. Well, he did, but he was still grateful for any time spent with her.

“Marry me today,” he called out to her when she and the dogs circled close enough to hear him.

She halted and shot him a disbelieving look. “I thought I made my position about eloping to Gretna Green quite clear, Your Grace.”

He patted his pocket. “We do not have to elope. Our special license is right here in my pocket.”

She meandered closer but kept a disappointingly respectable distance between them. Her hesitant smile and watchful demeanor both teased and worried him. “I thought we were going to have the banns read starting the first Sunday next month?”

“What are you afraid of, Gracie?” he asked quietly so her family couldn’t hear.

She tossed her head. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Grace.”

“What?”

“The other evening, in the drawing room, Joy tutored me on how to read people. What I read now is that you are afraid—and I need to know why, so I might correct it.”

She ignored him, concentrating instead on the multitude of dogs milling around her.

“I am not going away. You might as well answer.”

She gave him a curt huff, then flounced down and sat in the tangle of billowy grass that covered that part of the meadow. “Are Connor and Sissy not back yet?”

“They’ll not return until well after tea, remember?

The vicar’s wife was most clear on that.

” Bending his tall frame, he snaked through the fence, daring to close the distance between them and sit in the grass beside her.

The dogs clambered and bounced all around until Grace convinced them to calm themselves and sit.

He reached over and took her hand in his. “I thought you wished to be my wife. Was I mistaken?” He held his breath, praying she had not changed her mind after all that had happened.

She refused to look at him. Instead, she kept her head bowed, hiding behind the wave of golden-blonde curls that had worked loose from her hairpins. “I do wish to be your wife.”

“Then why do we delay embracing our wedded bliss? From all I know of you and all that your sisters say, you have never given a whit about what the gossips tattle on about.” He let go of her hand, swept back her hair, and gently turned her face to his.

“What is it, Grace? What is wrong?” He grazed his thumb along the fullness of her bottom lip.

“You frighten me, my lady,” he said. “You make me fear I am about to lose you.”

Uncertainty welled in the sapphire blue of her eyes, fueling his fears even more. “What if…”

He waited for her to finish, holding his breath again as all the terrible what if s she might utter raced through his mind. “What if?” he prompted her when she still didn’t speak.

“I am not a usual…lady.” She cringed as if confessing a most egregious sin. “You may think you already know that, but taking a wife such as myself is quite a different matter entirely.”

Rather than reassure her or allay her fears with smiles and platitudes, he forced himself to remain solemn. “Name off your sins, my lady. Even though we have done this before, name them off so I might know of all your vile ways.”

“I am not toying with you, Wolfe. I am quite serious.”

“As am I. Name them.”

“I do not eat meat.”

“Dishes with meat will not be offered to you nor placed on your end of the table. I, however, will continue to enjoy a good cut of beef or whatever meat Cook has prepared.”

“I do not approve of hunting either. Fox hunts are particularly cruel, and I can’t abide them. Are you willing to respect my wishes on that?”

“I have yet to see a fox since arriving in the country, my lady, and closing Wolfebourne land to hunting is not an issue. There is still the sport of breeding thoroughbreds and hounds, supervising the maintenance of crops, and filling our manor with children for Connor and Sissy to recruit for even more mischief.”

She stared at him, the heightened pink of her cheeks sorely tempting him to kiss her. “You know of my adventuring clothes.”

He allowed himself a heavy sigh. “Indeed, I do. Might we come to the same agreement that you and your father had? No riding near the roadway or wearing them into the village. You only wear them while on Wolfebourne or Broadmere land?”

“Yes. I believe that only fair.”

“What else?” He was winning, and with any luck, they would be happily married by week’s end.

Struggling not to gloat, he nodded for her to continue.

“You already told me you are opinionated and fractious, that you speak your mind, and I have witnessed your protectiveness over those you care about firsthand. All of which, if anything, makes me love you even more.” He dared to kiss her cheek and lingered close to the silkiness of her hair as he whispered, “I want you as my wife, Grace. Within the next hour would not be soon enough.”

“I am afraid,” she whispered.

“My fearless defender of animals and children? My amazing warrioress who rushes into the fray without hesitation? What could possibly strike fear into your valiant heart? Tell me so I may slay whatever demons still trouble you.”

She lowered her gaze, making him realize she was quite serious.

“Grace—my heart is yours forevermore. No matter what. Tell me what you fear.”

“You do not care that some might say you married a tomboy or a hoyden? You won’t change your mind about marrying such an unconventional lady?”

“My only care is for you, my love.”

She patted his chest. “You truly have a special license?”

“I do.”

She fiddled with his cravat, the way she always did when feeling particularly anxious. “Then perhaps we might marry this coming Saturday. Would that do?”

“Well.” He struggled not to smile and pull her into his arms—instead, he remained quite serious. “I suppose Saturday would do, if that is what you have your heart set on.”

“If not Saturday, then what day would you prefer?”

“Yesterday would not be soon enough, my lady.”

Her pensiveness melted away, replaced with a wry smile. “I do not manage teasing well, either, unless I am the teaser.”

“So I have come to realize. Is there anything else I should know?”

She pushed up from the ground and laughed. “Loads more, I would imagine, but I suppose there should be some surprises to keep you from growing bored with me.”

“I doubt very much that boredom with you will ever be a problem, my lady.” He rose and primly offered his arm. “Come. Let us tell your family so your sisters can plan the battle.”

“Plan the battle?”

“If I have learned anything since meeting your family, it is that your sisters plan all major events much like generals wage war. In fact, the Crown would do well to commission Serendipity to train the commanders for each branch of the service.”

Grace laughed as she lithely slipped through the fence, even though she was wearing her walking dress rather than her adventuring buckskins. “I am sure Seri would be most proud to hear that.”