Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace by Regina Jeffers Read Free Book Online Page A

presence, and ripped his ruined shirt into strips to use for bandages. Throughout, her forehead remained creased with worry lines, but Miss Nelson moved with confidence as if she considered how best to proceed. An hour earlier, he had expected to die before the day met its end; now, Gabriel assumed the odds had shifted in his favor, and that propitious favor was due to Grace Nelson’s presence.
    Gabriel tried desperately to recall what he had once thought of the woman, but he regretfully had disregarded her. He had been in her company only twice. The first time was at the Prince Regent’s soiree, but the lady who now shared his room had made no impression on him. He wondered how that was possible for she was magnificent. Her movements as graceful as a ballerina. She extended her arms fully, and her hands floated on the air. He had experienced a full season of Jean-Louis Aumer’s choreography while stationed in Vienna. His favorite had been La Fête de la rose because the title had reminded him of his beloved aunts. Aumer, a Frenchman, was renowned as the principal danseur for the Paris Opera Ballet. Each performance had made Gabriel very melancholy, but he had religiously attended.
    Why had he not noticed Miss Grace Nelson that fateful evening? Because she had hid behind a well-developed disguise and because he had become so involved with his own agony he had not given others the time of his consideration. “I wish I had danced with you at the Prince’s party,” he said casually as she plumped the pillows behind his head.
    “So do I,” she said honestly.
    Gabriel fought hard to stifle the laughter bubbling in his chest. A smile tugged at his mouth’s corners. “And why would that be, Miss Nelson?” He expelled a deep sigh as he settled into the bed’s mattress.
    “Why what, Sir?” she said distractedly.
    Her hands stopped their preparations, and her eyes returned to his gaze. He recognized the moment realization of what she had disclosed found a home. Grace Nelson blushed thoroughly, but her voice held no shame. She shrugged good-naturedly, as she said, “It has been many years since I have shared the dance floor with a gentleman. It would have been heavenly to be something more than a governess.”
    A sharp knock at the door announced the inn’s servants. Boys delivered their bags and ewers of hot water, while a maid set out a tray with tea and the brandy. As Miss Nelson moved to supervise the deliveries, Gabriel knew real regret. He had never considered the many wallflowers at the various balls he had attended over the years, but he would do so in the future. If he had a future, he would do better by those women. And if she would permit it, he would personally see Miss Nelson dancing at Thornhill’s upcoming entertainment.
    With the servants’ departures, the lady reappeared at his side. “I want you to drink this,” she said as she lifted his head where Gabriel might take a hefty swallow of the brandy. It was excellent stock. Luckily, Mr. Bradshaw had a source for bootleg French brandy. “I will need to ask our host for a small knife,” she said evenly.
    “There is one in the hidden pocket of my right boot,” he shared. “Everything else you might require is in my shaving pouch.”
    “You have thought of everything,” she said. He noted her bottom lip trembled, but Gabriel never considered how she might fail him.
    He smiled wryly. “In my time abroad, I often found myself in need of such instruments.”
    “Why does that particular fact not surprise me?” she asked ironically.
    “Because you, Miss Nelson, are a survivor. We hold that in common.”
    The lady did not respond. Instead, she retrieved the knife and razor. Filling a bowl with the hot water, she said, “I must remove the dried blood to better determine the damage. Shall you be prepared?”
    “Do your worst, Miss Nelson.” He accepted another swig of the brandy. “Give me the leather strap from the kit so I might have something to