Casting about for a place to wait, she stared at the bed.
The big, wide, luxuriously comfortable-looking bed with its plump feather pillows and cocoa-hued satin counterpane.
Obviously, it was the most logical location to wait. Yet even with her newfound confidence, she couldn't bring herself to walk over and climb in.
Where else then?
There was always the sofa, but that seemed too staid, as though she'd simply come to chat.
By the window then? But no, what if someone glimpsed her shadow through the drapes?
The fireplace? Men were always leaning against one mantelpiece or another, and given her height, she was certainly tall enough to pull off the trick. Yet even thinking about taking up such a pose made her laugh. Then too, she risked being left standing for what might turn from minutes into hours.
No, she needed someplace where she could sit.
His writing desk.
Of course! Why hadn't she thought of that from the start? Waiting there would be simple, even elegant. And perhaps, if she timed it right, Jack would discover her posing like one of the sensuously clad Grecian goddesses that were so popular these days on vases and urns.
Smirking at her own folly, she strolled over to the desk. As she rounded the corner to pull out the chair, the skirt of her robe flapped open and caught on a slim leather folder resting on top of the desk. Off it flew, the sides fluttering open to unleash a flurry of paperwork into the air.
Oh, stars! she thought, shaking her head at her carelessness. Rushing forward, she bent to gather the documents. She'd collected nearly all of them and was about to tuck them neatly back into place when the sight of her name on one of the pages caught her eye.
… marriage to Grace Lilah Danvers. In exchange, the following terms shall be agreed upon …
It was the settlement, she realized.
Papa told her he'd negotiated the weighty legal document a few weeks ago, assuring her that it more than amply provided for her welfare, and that of any future children she might have. He'd said her interests were safe and secure, and that she had nothing over which to be concerned.
///
Not that she was in any way concerned. Quite the contrary, since she knew Jack wished only for her happiness.
Once again she was about to slip the page back inside the folder when her gaze caught on something else-a phrase that seemed wholly out of place.
… forgiveness of accrued gambling debts …
Gambling debts?
Scanning backward to locate the beginning of the paragraph, she began to read. Once she was done with that, she forced herself to read more, to read it all, no matter how much each word might hurt.
By the time she finished, her entire body was numb. Dropping to her knees, she closed her eyes and wondered how she was ever going to survive.
The clock chimed two as Jack rounded the landing at the top of the stairs. Covering a yawn with his fist, he made his way down the corridor to his room. He would be glad to climb into bed and get some rest. Then again, he'd be even gladder to climb into Grace's bed and take his ease with her. But maybe he should let her sleep. Considering the late hour, she must surely have drifted off by now.
Despite his constant desire for her, he supposed a night apart wouldn't do either of them any harm. In fact, were he any sort of gentleman, he would have left her alone these past few weeks, rather than tempting the fates by taking her to bed as frequently as he could manage.
So far, she hadn't conceived a child. But every time he was with her was another new chance. Then again, only six days remained until the wedding, so even if he did get her pregnant, who was to know?
Six days, he mused. Six final days of bachelorhood.
Given his previous opinion on the topic of marriage, the idea ought to terrify him. Or at the very least leave him queasy and on the verge of making a wild dash for freedom.
But curiously he felt no such urges. He was … content … even eager for the coming union . He genuinely liked Grace, and, as amazing as it was to admit, he wanted to marry her. Of course, it didn't hurt knowing their marriage would give him complete access to her body, allowing him to take her whenever, wherever, and as often as he wished to exercise his husbandly prerogatives.
His shaft stirred at the thought, aching in violent anticipation of their approaching honeymoon. He couldn't wait to get her to himself inside the secluded little cottage he'd chosen for their wedding trip. By the time they left the place, she would be well and thoroughly satisfied, so much so that she would have long ago forgotten what it was like not having him in her several times a day.
Biting back a groan, he shoved open the door to his bedchamber and stalked inside. A quick change into his robe, he decided, and then he was going to her room, where both of them could enjoy the delicious pleasure of having him wake her up.
But as he walked farther into the room, he stopped, his pulse leaping to discover her seated at his desk. "Grace. You're here."
"Yes. So I am," she murmured.
"How long have you been waiting?"
"A while." She didn't look at him, nor did she move, not even by so much as the twitch of a finger.
Something's wrong, he realized, though he couldn't for the life of him imagine what could have occurred to upset her in the few short hours since dinner. Well, he'd soon find out and have her smiling again. "I must say I'm glad you're here." He glanced at the bed, wondering how quickly he could get her in it.
"Are you?" Her voice sounded odd, almost hollow.
"Of course." He strolled closer. "I can't think of anything better than an unexpected late-night visit from my beautiful bride-to-be."
She flinched. "Can you not?"
He stopped and studied her, noting the ashen cast to her cheeks.
"Grace-"
"I did some reading while you were downstairs," she said, as though he hadn't spoken.
"Oh?"
"The document was quite … illuminating."
Document?
Only then did he notice the leather folder lying on the desk a few inches from her hands. Only in that instant did he remember exactly what it contained.
Double hell and damnation! The settlement!
Danvers had given him a copy of the final executed agreement yesterday with the change he'd requested. Unsatisfied with the terms should he predecease her, Jack had insisted on a larger widow's portion than was generally customary. The original sum had been generous and more than sufficient to see to her comfort and needs. The new amount, however, would ensure that she could continue to live as she had during his lifetime, with no necessary alterations to her existence except those she chose herself. He'd done it to protect her. Why hadn't he thought to protect her again by locking the papers away where she would never see them?
///
Careless, stupid fool, he cursed himself. But then he'd had no reason to conceal them, since he'd never once imagined she would be here in this room. At least not until after they were married. Generally, single young women weren't given to visiting their fiancés' rooms prior to the wedding. On the other hand, Grace was not most single young women, as she continued proving to him each and every day.
"I came to surprise you," she said in that same hauntingly empty tone. "I wanted to give you one more gift for your birthday. But it seems I'm the one who ended up surprised."
His stomach churned, aching as though he'd swallowed a handful of rocks. "It's not what you think-"
Her gaze shot upward, meeting his own for the first time since he'd entered the room. "Is it not? The agreement appeared rather straightforward to me. But then I am only a woman and not privy to the superior machinations of men. Perhaps I don't have a full understanding of such worldly matters."
He stifled a groan, giving her full marks for her sarcastic condemnation of himself and her father.
"The one thing I don't understand, however, is why?" she mused aloud.
"Why?" he repeated with a frown.
"Oh, not why you did it. That much is patently obvious. Clearly you became indebted to my father-at cards, I presume-and as repayment you agreed to take me off his hands. No, what I want to know is why the pretense? Why this … elaborate charade these past few months to make me think there was something more between us than base commerce?"
"It's not like that, Grace," he defended. "I … it's complicated."
"Complicated? Yes, I'm sure lying constantly would become complicated."
"That isn't what I meant," he said through clenched teeth. "And I haven't been lying constantly."