*
Tessa Blagden hadlived through many centuries. She’d seen many wonders. But this—this—
“He’s holding her hand,” she leaned in and said to Harper.
“I told you he cares for her.”
“Did you note the way he stared at her, how he smiled at her?” Tessa asked exuberantly. “From your past reports I was beginning to lose hope for his happiness. I wanted it for him so much.” Shaking her head with regret, she brought a napkin to her eyes and patted them dry. “Some things must be done.”
“What are you talking about?” Harper demanded. “Tell me the plan. I won’t be kept in the dark this time. Not when it comes to him.”
Tessa gave her a steady look full of love and compassion. Harper had done all and had given up all to do what was asked of her. In that, she was very much like Aria Darling. She deserved the truth about her sister, and now she deserved to know the rest.
Chapter Twenty-One
Aria’s head spunin all directions while she let Gray lead her back to the castle. She’d almost been thrown into some prison on false charges. Harper’s warning was happening. Gray’s enemy was going after her. But Gray showed her tonight that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. His warnings were frightening. She heard his icy voice in her mind when he posed his question to his father.Why would you be so careless about making an enemy of me?
Indeed, why would anyone?
Mrs. B. had also arrived and if that weren’t enough to make Aria’s head spin, she then dropped a bomb that Gray had been born in the twentieth century. He was urged to return to set time right.
They’d had no idea that time-traveling was against some sort of time rule. Aria doubted Gray would have let that stop him. Would he leave with her? So many possibilities flowed through her mind about what she wanted to show him: lights, cars, planes, trains, movies, restaurants and more.
They entered the castle, and Gray helped her out of her coat. His fingers brushed her shoulder and then upper arm. His touch sent warm charges through her. Like the charge of lightning that made one’s hair rise up. His breath, falling on the back of her head made her want to turn in his arms and kiss him.
“I’ll walk you to your chamber.” His fathomless voice resonated through her.
“Gray?” she said as they walked together toward the stairs.
“Yes?” he answered, sounding like a satisfied cat while he took her hand again and held it to his chest.
“I’m sorry about your mother. I’m sorry you didn’t know.”
He was quiet for a moment in thoughtful contemplation—or he wasn’t thinking at all. His expression didn’t offer her a clue. Just when she thought he didn’t want to talk about it, he turned slightly to look at her.
“I haven’t had a mother since I was seven. I hate that things were kept from me, but I understand why they were—when I was a child, at least. As I grew older, I wish I would have been told the truth.”
Aria nodded. Her heart broke for him to have such a sneaky, thoughtless grandmother. Mrs. B. had been sneaky and thoughtless with her too. Aria wasn’t so sure she wanted to forgive her.
“Perhaps things were meant to be this way.”
She gave him an askew look. “Will Dartmouth’s rebellious lord suddenly accept that things are meant to be a certain way, and follow along?”
He stopped and turned his body to face her fully. With his free hand he reached up to gently swipe a tendril of her hair off her cheek. He smiled, looking into her eyes, and then grew serious in the next breath. “Not only follow along but go joyfully if it involves you.”
She stared into his eyes, where Grayson Barrington lived, still survived after being alone for so torturously long. Oh, she thanked the good Lord that Gray hadn’t given up what made him wonderfully, expressively human. Dancing.
She had given up. She felt her eyes burn and tried to blink her tears away, but they filled her eyes, nonetheless.
“What makes you cry?” he asked in a quiet tone. “Tell me and I’ll see that it never causes you to shed a tear again.”
She gazed at his lips while he spoke and while two full, fat tears fell from her cheeks. “I want to dance.”
He let her words sink in for a second, and then his smile returned, and he pulled her by the hand the other way—toward his dance hall.
“I didn’t mean now,” she protested, stopping him with laughter escaping her. “It’s the middle of the night! I mean in general. I want to dance with you again.”
“Oh, with me,” he said with a playful grin. “We don’t need a dance hall to do that.” He made a sharp turn and veered off the path, leading her to the doors of his chambers.