Page 78 of To Wed a Wild Scot
When Logan took her out of the room much later, her father was dead.
Chapter Nineteen
Graystone Court
Eight days later
Logan knew he was being watched.
He wasn’t sure how long she’d been there, but ten minutes or more had passed since he’d sensed the wide, dark eyes on him and glanced up just in time to see her duck back behind the library door.
He slowly turned over the pages of his book, waiting. Sooner or later she’d gather up the nerve to approach him. Grace was shy, but she had a good deal of her Aunt Juliana’s backbone in her. So he sat quietly, his legs stretched out in front of him. He kept his gaze fixed on the book in his hands and did his best to look harmless.
It must have worked, because a few seconds later Grace gathered up her courage enough to creep around the edge of the door and venture a few steps into the library. Logan pretended not to notice her, and she gradually made her way closer, creeping like a wary mouse, one hesitant step at a time.
Soon enough, she was hovering beside his knee. “Mr. Logan?”
Logan looked up from his book and raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Hello, Grace. Where did you come from?”
“From ’round the door. I was hiding there,” she said with a shy smile.
Logan’s lips quirked. Grace had the sweetest smile. “Were you? You must have been quiet, because I didn’t see you there. Do you need something?”
“It’s pretty outside, and warm, too.”
Logan glanced across the room to see the late afternoon’s rays illuminating the window. They were into July now, and the sun continued to promise a warm summer. “It is.”
Grace fiddled with her skirts. Logan noticed she was dressed for riding in a dark brown skirt and jacket that vaguely resembled a lady’s riding habit. This time he didn’t have to feign his surprise.
She’d never asked him to take her riding before.
As promised, Lord and Lady Pierce had brought Grace to Graystone Court the day after Logan and Juliana arrived. The child had kept a careful distance from him that first week. Whenever she did happen to encounter him, she’d either run away or hide behind Juliana’s skirts.
Logan hadn’t pushed her. Grace had just lost her grandfather, the house was in turmoil as mourners came to pay their respects, and her beloved Aunt Juliana was pale and withdrawn, caught in a crushing wave of grief.
By the end of the week it grew calmer. Lord and Lady Pierce had taken their leave yesterday, after Lord Graystone’s body was interred in the family tomb beside his beloved son’s. Juliana had spent the better part of today alone in her bedchamber, and the house was quiet.
Grace had been consigned to the tender care of her nanny for the day. Mrs. Culpepper was a worthy woman, but not a terribly amusing one. Grace soon grew bored with her company and turned her attention to Logan who, while far more terrifying than Mrs. Culpepper, was also a great deal more interesting.
She didn’t speak to him at all at first, but she took to following him about from room to room. She’d kept a wary eye on him all morning, but when she’d reassured herself the only alarming thing about him was his size, she’d bravely invited him to play at paper dolls with her.
Logan wasn’t very good at paper dolls. The fragile bits of paper were too tiny for his big hands, but Grace was patient with him. After a morning of playing at Cinderella and the Glass Slipper a tentative friendship had sprung up between them. Soon enough Logan found himself drinking tea from miniscule china teacups and helping Grace rock her dolls to sleep.
She hadn’t yet ventured outside the house with him, but it looked as if that was about to change. Grace had evidently given this invitation some thought, because she was shrewd enough to begin with flattery. “My aunt Juliana said you have a big gray horse at your house, and that you’re a very good rider. Is that true?”
“I do have a gray horse, and I suppose I’m a decent enough rider, though I’m no better than your Aunt Juliana is.” Logan smiled, but saying Juliana’s name caused him a pang in his chest.
“What’s your horse’s name?”
“Fingal. It’s a Scottish name.Fhiongail. It means ‘fair stranger’ in English.”
“We have a big horse in our stable named Finnegan. He’s not gray, but maybe you’d like to ride him still?” Grace turned big, hopeful dark eyes on him.
“I would like it, Grace, but does your aunt Juliana know you’re going out for a ride?” Logan didn’t want to disappoint Grace, but he wouldn’t take her out without Juliana’s knowledge.
Grace nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes. She said a ride would do her good. She’s coming down now.”
Juliana was coming down? Logan tossed his book onto a table and jumped to his feet. He’d hardly seen her since the day they arrived in Surrey. She’d come down for dinner when Lord and Lady Pierce were here, but last night she’d taken a tray in her room.
