Read Online Christopher's Medal by S.A. Laybourn - Free Book Online Page A

good. I’d hate for you both to be too shagged out for drinks and dinner.” She led them along a wide hallway, illuminated only by dim sconces, which cast splashes of amber light onto dark green wallpaper.
    “Here you are.” Emma flung a door back, revealing a room washed with soft, evening sunshine. “You’ve got the last en suite room. I thought you’d like the privacy.”
    “It’s lovely.” Grace stared at the room—all antiques and silk wallpaper. The last time she’d seen a room like that she’d had to stand behind a velvet rope and listen to a tour guide. Emma shut the door behind her, leaving them in silence. Grace set her bag down and watched Christopher while he hung a clothes bag in the wardrobe.
    “My mess uniform,” he told her. “I hope you like a man in uniform.”
    “I’d like you if you were wearing rags.” Grace hung her dresses next to his hidden uniform.
    “I like you best when you’re wearing nothing.”
    “How very shallow.” Grace kissed his forefinger when he trailed it across her lip.
    “I wish we weren’t here.” He kissed her. “I wish we didn’t have to go downstairs and have drinks and dinner and socialize.”
    “It’s only one night.” His closeness made her weak, made her wish they were in Newmarket, in the silence of her humble bedroom with its lemon-yellow duvet.
    “At least I don’t have to go back until Monday. I don’t intend to let you out of bed once we get back to your place, if that’s all right with you.” Another kiss, slow, sweet, full of heat and promise.
    “That’s just fine.” He robbed her of words, of any thoughts beyond wanting him.
    He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “I suppose we’d better get tidied up before this blasted dinner.”
    Grace curled her hand around the back of his neck and closed her eyes. “Will it be awful?”
    “No. I’ll look after you. You’ll be fine, just be you. Just be Gracey Webb.”
    “I can do that.”
    “Yes, you can.”
    * * * *
    Grace was thankful the drawing room was already full of people. It meant they could slip in unnoticed. She was happy that Christopher kept her close.
    “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath warm on her skin. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.”
    The words were enough. The seductive way he delivered them even better. Grace told herself this was no different from walking into a yard full of owners on the yard’s open day.
    “Ah, there you are, Chris.” A fair-haired man eased out of the knot of people surrounding the drinks cabinet and strode across the expanse of faded oriental rug. “Glad you could make it.” He grinned at Grace. “You must be Grace.” He extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
    Christopher’s arm tightened around her waist. “This is the Terrible Paddy McCain, my roommate from Sandhurst and the blushing groom.”
    “It’s nice to meet you too.” Grace hated that the Terrible Paddy McCain was crushing her hand.
    “We’ve heard a lot about you.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s all good. He wouldn’t have brought you here if it wasn’t.” He turned and waved to a girl who carried a tray laden with champagne. “Two here, please, Rosie.”
    The chilled glass cooled Grace’s hand. She sipped the champagne and listened to the Terrible Paddy McCain tell Christopher what his duties as one of the groomsmen would be. She glanced around the room, at the other people, all absorbed in conversations of their own, murmurs punctuated by occasional laughs. Her borrowed pearls and off-the-peg dress from Monsoon suddenly didn’t seem all that special.
    “Come and meet some friends.” Paddy’s voice cut across her reverie. “You’ll find that word’s got around about the two of you and everyone’s being terribly polite at the moment and trying desperately hard not to be nosy.”
    Grace let Christopher lead her across the room, to the scattered clusters of guests. She tried to remember names. All