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Authors: Harper St. George
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couldn’t they leave together? Why couldn’t he offer to take care of her?
Stupid questions, those. Jean would find them eventually no matter where they went. Still, every time she saw Gray, she forgave him a little more. And she did see him. Almost daily, but never alone. Never so she could ask him those questions. She would catch him watching her with that solemn gaze, usually giving nothing away, but occasionally touching on the forlorn. She tried not to return his looks but it had become increasingly difficult since the initial heat of her anger had died out, and besides, looking at him soothed the pain left behind. Once she had tried to approach him, but Sinclair had come from nowhere and headed her off with a summons from Jean. It had occurred to her then that Sinclair might know what had happened between them. Then she realized it didn’t matter as long as Jean didn’t know. She had even gone by Jean’s study a few times, in the hopes that Gray would be posted there, but it was always one of the others. So she had concluded he was avoiding her and stopped trying.
And now, just days before the wedding, she was making her last desperate attempt to get away, even though it meant leaving him behind. She picked up her wool valise, which contained her wrap and extra dress, and held her breath as she dropped it out the window. Then she hoisted herself through the open window, one leg at a time, until she dangled from the window sill on her forearms. Her feet were still too far away to reach the roof below so she’d have to drop. Which would be fine, except she couldn’t figure out how to close the window behind her. The fingers of one hand wrapped around the sash from the bottom but it refused to budge as she’d suspected it would. It had been difficult enough to open with both hands from inside. Finally, she gave up. Besides, it was well after midnight, no one would see it anyway.
She held tight to the sill and dropped until her arms were fully extended, then let go. She would have landed just fine, she was certain of it, but an arm caught her around the waist and a hand covered her mouth. That frightened her worse than the fall ever could have. But almost immediately, she recognized the breadth of the chest against her back and the scent that enveloped her.
“It’s me.” His breath whispered past her ear, making her skin tingle in awareness.
Her body sagged against him in relief as she tried to overcome the rush of adrenaline that pounded through her. “What are you doing on the roof?” The question came out of her in a breathless rush once he dropped the hand covering her mouth.
Gray didn’t answer, though, he just held her against him until her heart stopped threatening to pound out of her chest. Finally he moved away from her and explained. “I was out back when I saw you at the window. I figured you were making a run for it.” And then he picked up her valise and took her hand, leading her along the wall to the inverted corner where the sunroom met the rest of the house. Once there, he tossed the valise down and leaped nimbly down to the ground behind it. Sophie followed but much more hesitantly, getting down to her belly first and following that way. He caught her hips from behind and helped her reach the ground. But when he grabbed her hand again to pull her away, she revolted.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you back upstairs before somebody sees you.” He explained.
“But I’m escaping. I’m not going back in. How can you want me to go back in there?”
He sighed but she couldn’t see his face to see what that meant. “How far do you think you’d get?”
She honestly didn’t know but it would be better than not trying. “How can you want me to go back in there knowing it means marriage to Anton? Is that what you want for me?”
As soon as the question left her lips, she was in his arms with his face buried in her hair. “No, the thought of you with him makes me crazy.” His
Stupid questions, those. Jean would find them eventually no matter where they went. Still, every time she saw Gray, she forgave him a little more. And she did see him. Almost daily, but never alone. Never so she could ask him those questions. She would catch him watching her with that solemn gaze, usually giving nothing away, but occasionally touching on the forlorn. She tried not to return his looks but it had become increasingly difficult since the initial heat of her anger had died out, and besides, looking at him soothed the pain left behind. Once she had tried to approach him, but Sinclair had come from nowhere and headed her off with a summons from Jean. It had occurred to her then that Sinclair might know what had happened between them. Then she realized it didn’t matter as long as Jean didn’t know. She had even gone by Jean’s study a few times, in the hopes that Gray would be posted there, but it was always one of the others. So she had concluded he was avoiding her and stopped trying.
And now, just days before the wedding, she was making her last desperate attempt to get away, even though it meant leaving him behind. She picked up her wool valise, which contained her wrap and extra dress, and held her breath as she dropped it out the window. Then she hoisted herself through the open window, one leg at a time, until she dangled from the window sill on her forearms. Her feet were still too far away to reach the roof below so she’d have to drop. Which would be fine, except she couldn’t figure out how to close the window behind her. The fingers of one hand wrapped around the sash from the bottom but it refused to budge as she’d suspected it would. It had been difficult enough to open with both hands from inside. Finally, she gave up. Besides, it was well after midnight, no one would see it anyway.
She held tight to the sill and dropped until her arms were fully extended, then let go. She would have landed just fine, she was certain of it, but an arm caught her around the waist and a hand covered her mouth. That frightened her worse than the fall ever could have. But almost immediately, she recognized the breadth of the chest against her back and the scent that enveloped her.
“It’s me.” His breath whispered past her ear, making her skin tingle in awareness.
Her body sagged against him in relief as she tried to overcome the rush of adrenaline that pounded through her. “What are you doing on the roof?” The question came out of her in a breathless rush once he dropped the hand covering her mouth.
Gray didn’t answer, though, he just held her against him until her heart stopped threatening to pound out of her chest. Finally he moved away from her and explained. “I was out back when I saw you at the window. I figured you were making a run for it.” And then he picked up her valise and took her hand, leading her along the wall to the inverted corner where the sunroom met the rest of the house. Once there, he tossed the valise down and leaped nimbly down to the ground behind it. Sophie followed but much more hesitantly, getting down to her belly first and following that way. He caught her hips from behind and helped her reach the ground. But when he grabbed her hand again to pull her away, she revolted.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking you back upstairs before somebody sees you.” He explained.
“But I’m escaping. I’m not going back in. How can you want me to go back in there?”
He sighed but she couldn’t see his face to see what that meant. “How far do you think you’d get?”
She honestly didn’t know but it would be better than not trying. “How can you want me to go back in there knowing it means marriage to Anton? Is that what you want for me?”
As soon as the question left her lips, she was in his arms with his face buried in her hair. “No, the thought of you with him makes me crazy.” His
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