“Almost constantly since Mama left this morning,” Hope admitted, shifting to pull herself into a sitting position. The room was full dark; there were not even shadows to make each other out. But they were accustomed to speaking in such a way. Until they turned eighteen, they had shared a bedroom and spent many a night sitting up with each other.
“I wondered why you would not leave your room,” Grace admitted. “I have been going through what you packed all day today.” She listened to the stillness beside her, trying to measure her sister’s desperation in the way she sniffled.
“I know I keep saying it, and no one is listening anymore, but I am sorry. This is not what you wanted, Grace.” Hope’s hand sought Grace’s on the bed between them, giving it a squeeze when she found it. “It might be wonderful for you, though. And you needn’t have too many adventures if you do not wish them.”
Grace’s heart softened toward her sister and she scooted closer, wrapping Hope in an embrace. “Thank you, dear. You are kind not to be angry at me for taking your place.”
A mirthless laugh escaped Hope. “How could I be angry at you? This is all my fault. You tried to stop me, and then you did not even tell Papa. I have never seen him so upset.”
“Nor have I. But he is our father. He will be calm again soon.” Grace bit her bottom lip, her heart picking up speed. She had to present her plan before she grew too nervous. “Hope. I have an idea. I have been thinking on it since our conversation in the library. Do you remember our governess, Miss Clark?”
“How could I forget her?” Hope asked, the faintest note of surprise in her words. She leaned back against her headboard, necessitating that Grace do the same. “She was excessively amusing. She never could tell us apart. Remember when we would purposefully switch places to confuse her all the more?”
“I would wear your hair ribbons and you would wear mine,” Grace answered. “That was your idea. Remember?”
“No, but it sounds like something I would think of.” Hope heaved a deep sigh. “It wasn’t that brilliant a trick. Not very many people know how to tell us apart when we are dressed similarly. Only our brother and sisters, Mama, and Papa—”
“If Papa has his spectacles on.” Grace’s heart pounded all the harder. “And he loses them a great deal.”
“I suppose.” Hope’s words came out slowly, uncertainly.
“Hope,” Grace said, lowering her voice and attempting to sound earnest. “I would rather do just about anything than set sail for the West Indies. And you would do almost anything to get that chance back, would you not?”
Quiet blanketed the room for what felt like an age, but Grace waited. Her sister would know what she meant. If Hope agreed with the plan, she would say so. If not, they would speak no more of it. But, oh, how much Grace wanted to stay home where all things were safe and familiar.
Finally, the words came, hissed out quietly. “We would be caught, Grace.”
“Not for a time,” she insisted. “Mama is gone for a fortnight at least. The younger ones will not be home to give anything away, and I am quite capable of pretending to be you until you are safely sailed from London. Once you sail, it does not matter. You will be away and no one can bring you back.” Her voice rose as she spoke, eagerness coloring her words. “Think of it, Hope. All of your things are ready. Once you are at sea, you can tell Miss Carlbury. She will not give you away. She must prefer to have you on the voyage, as you will be a more animated companion than I. I will remain home, where I wish to be.”
“Papa will be so angry when he finds out.” Hope’s words were discouraging, but her tone sounded the opposite. “Does that not frighten you?”
“I can weather our father’s storm better than I can the ocean’s.” Grace spoke with more confidence than she felt. Her father’s disappointment and anger, her mother’s sorrow at her deceit, weighed on her heart. But she would pay that price when the time came most gladly. For she would still be at home when called to account. “We can switch in the morning. Come to my room, as if to help me dress. We will dismiss Susan.” The maid would think nothing of their helping one another.
“Oh, that is clever. Then I will leave as Grace, and you will remain here, pretending to be me.” Hope bounced a little as she spoke. “Do you think we can manage it? The Carlburys said they might remain in London a fortnight while they finish purchases and wait on the ship.”
They had never switched identities for longer than a day, and that had been years before, and not more than a dozen times. Yet who knew Hope better than Grace? “We will manage perfectly well.”
Suddenly, Hope’s arms were around Grace. “Thank you, Grace. I had not even considered this idea. You have saved my adventure and given me another. How will I ever repay this?”
Grace’s eyes filled with tears. “You are my best friend and my sister. I’m glad you will still have your chance at your dream.” And she was more than a touch relieved that she could remain quietly at home.
They spoke for another hour, by turns advising each other on how to behave, giggling over memories, and occasionally wiping away tears for the months ahead without each other. Before Grace crept out of the room, Hope took her hand one more time.
“The only thing I am afraid of,” Hope said in a whisper, “is being without you for so long. We cannot even write each other often. But I will write in my book for you, Grace. Every day.”
They were doing the right thing. Grace knew it, and Hope’s sweet words sealed the rightness of it in her heart. “Promise me you will be careful,” she whispered. “If you do anything dangerous and it is my fault you are there—”
“Nothing bad will happen.” Hope squeezed her hand. “Go to bed. We begin the finest acting anyone has ever seen tomorrow morning.”
Grace barely stifled her laugh before slipping out of the bed, back across the hall, and between her cold sheets. Though her heart had been relieved of its burden, sleep did not come quickly.
As her sister had said, switching places would be an adventure all on its own. But it could not be too difficult, given how well Grace knew Hope’s mannerisms. Her younger siblings might not be fooled for long, but she had every confidence she could win their silence if they guessed. There was also the matter that Hope, if she had been constrained to stay home, would not wish to talk or go about in society. This would keep Grace from having to practice her deception on too many people.
Deception. Dishonesty. Lies. She abhorred such actions, yet over the past day and a half had committed herself to performing them. It was a matter of self-preservation, she argued with herself, and doing the right thing. The terrible accident with Lord Neil and Lady Olivia should not rule the next year of her life or Hope’s. People made mistakes, and Hope expressed true sorrow for it.
When her father realized what had happened, if he was angry, so be it. At least she would be home and not a world away on an island.
The sun rose at last, permitting Grace to do the same. Her head had started to throb, protesting her lack of sleep, but she fought through the discomfort. If she appeared haggard, it would help her appear more as a heartbroken Hope.
Susan, the maid who helped both young ladies prepare for each day, appeared with Hope right behind her. Hope’s dark circles mirrored Grace’s, proving that neither of them had been able to sleep. Hope was already dressed, too. Most plainly, in fact, with her hair pulled back and up in a simple style.
“Susan,” Hope said after Grace’s traveling gown had been laid out. “I wonder if you might allow me to help Grace today? Surely there are other things you must see to, and I would like to say goodbye to my sister.”
The maid, only a few years younger than they, considered Hope with sympathy. “Of course, Miss Everly. I have sisters of my own. I understand what it is to have to say goodbye.”
“Thank you, Susan,” Grace said, another prick of guilt pressing into her. As soon as the door shut behind the maid, Grace and Hope met each other’s gazes.
Hope came forward swift
ly and embraced Grace. “This really is goodbye, for a very long time.”
Grace held her sister close. “I know. But we will be together again, and we will have so much to talk about when we are.” Tears sprang to Grace’s eyes and when she parted from her sister, she saw Hope had started crying, too.
“We have no time for this,” Hope said. “Hurry. Let’s get you dressed as me first.”
Chemises, stays, ribbons, and gowns flew about the room as they hurried to switch their identities. They whispered reminders to one another as they went.
“Remember,” Hope said as she adjusted a pin in her hair, “that I cannot abide to eat parsnips, while you love them.”
“Remember that Miss Carlbury knows of my simple tastes. Be careful what you purchase in London.”
Back and forth they spoke their instructions until the transformation was complete. Grace wore the gown Hope had taken off, a deep green, striped dress more subdued than Hope’s usual choices. Her hair had been styled by her sister as well. Hope wore Grace’s periwinkle traveling gown, with a bonnet to match.
They stared at each other, inspecting the small touches that made the transformation complete.
“It will be fine,” Grace whispered.
A knock at the door startled them both. “The Carlbury carriage has arrived. Cook has breakfast in a basket for you.” Father’s deep voice made Grace bite her lip.
“Coming,” Hope answered quickly, giving Grace a crooked smile. “It’s time. Hurry.”
Hope’s steps were light, though she managed to keep her expression neutral. Grace lowered her head and slumped her shoulders, easily able to appear dejected when she imagined it really was her who must leave that day.
Papa waited for them downstairs, without his spectacles in place. He tried to only wear them when he read or worked on his business letters. This worked to their advantage.
“Dear Grace,” he said, raising his arms to take Hope’s shoulders. “My sweet girl. I know you think me unkind to send you away, but this will be a good experience for you. You will thank me, in the end.” Then he hugged her to him, kissed her cheeks, and opened the door to lead her out.
Grace followed slowly, hanging back as Hope stepped into the carriage. She raised her hand in farewell, calling out, “Goodbye, Grace. God go with you.” Could God go with two women lying to their parents? Were their actions so terrible He might not hear their prayers?
Somehow, Grace had not thought to worry about such a thing until that very moment.
The carriage pulled away, Hope waving out the window, and Grace standing an arm’s length from her father. He stood watching one daughter’s departure, then turned slowly to look at the one left behind.
“Hope,” he said, his voice slightly gruff. “Let this be a lesson to you, my girl. You will not be rewarded for acting as anything less than a lady. In time I think you will understand that this is for your own good. We must curb your behavior.”
Grace lowered her eyes and nodded, whispering as though gravely disappointed, “Yes, Papa.” He sighed heavily and walked past her. “Come, let us have breakfast.”
Her adventure begun, Grace did not relish the challenge ahead as Hope had seemed to, but she gritted her teeth and followed her father. She would not give them away. She could not.
Chapter 6
Although Jacob’s mother had cautioned him in terms of showing his growing affection for Hope too soon, he had no wish to leave her alone on the very day Grace departed for London and the West Indies. The poor woman had lost enough without being left friendless as well.
He took extra time dressing, though most of his clothing looked the same. The last several purchases he had made had been with his new position in mind. While it was not actually required that vicars wear all black, the somber and practical color was expected. He livened up his wardrobe only with waistcoats in blues and grays. Today, thinking of Hope’s eyes, he chose blue.
Briefly he contemplated inviting Isaac to come on the visit with him. Isaac Fox, a baronet, and Silas, the Earl of Inglewood, were nearly as close friends with the Everlys as Jacob. Isaac’s younger sister, Esther, had recently married the earl which made her part of their special circle of friends, too. Silas and Esther were in London in order for Silas to finish out the current session of Parliament. Isaac remained at home, putting things in order after his return from military service.
Though it was selfish, Jacob rapidly decided against asking Isaac to visit Hope with him. Perhaps, he told himself, it would be best to go alone and take her measure. He would invite Isaac another time, once Hope had adjusted to the thought of remaining at home.
Jacob took his brother’s horse again, the fine golden gelding his favorite in their limited family stables. All the animals belonged to his brother, as Matthew had inherited everything five years past when their father passed away from a complaint of the heart. The vicarage and its attached farm would not support an animal of leisure, though Jacob meant to see about a few horses to pull a plow.
Thinking on the vicarage and all his plans for his future there made him lighthearted once again. Hope had remained, allowing him to dream of her company in the gardens on warm summer evenings. Surely he could have her cheered up and charmed before summer came to an end.
The tall, gray-stoned Refuge welcomed him as it always did, with glittering windows and its sweeping green lawn. Jacob rode up to the front doors, tied his horse to the hitching post, and took off his hat and gloves at the door.
Garrett answered, not so much as a black hair out of place. “Ah, Mr. Barnes. Good afternoon.” The butler took his things as he stepped aside.
“Hello, Garrett. Is Miss Everly at home to visitors?”
The butler’s eyebrows pulled down and he lowered his chin slightly. “She is home, sir, but I am not certain if she is permitted visitors. Would you care to speak to Mr. Everly on the matter?”
It had not occurred to Jacob that part of Hope’s punishment might include restricting visitors. Hadn’t keeping her from acting on one of her dreams been severe enough? Perhaps he would feel differently about it if he ever became a father.
Jacob followed Garrett to the library, where Mr. Everly greeted him with a book in hand.
“Ah, Jacob. Welcome. I suppose you have come to look in on Hope?” The man peered over the rims of his spectacles at Jacob, raising his gray eyebrows.
“Yes, Mr. Everly. If you will permit it.” Jacob kept his face neutral, waiting for the verdict. He had never done anything to give the Everlys reason to distrust him or dislike his association with their daughters. When they were much younger, he had been attached a time or two to Hope’s mischief and some of his own, but it had been years since he had done anything to earn a reproof from anyone’s parents.
Narrowing his eyes, Mr. Everly tucked his hands behind his back. “As you are about to take orders and be our ecclesiastical leader, it would be foolish to deny you. Please, Jacob, as Hope’s friend, do not let her bemoan her fate. I would have her grow from this, become a better person, and learn. By all means be kind, but do not allow her to act as though she is a martyr.”
With the subject broached between them, Jacob dared to ask, “How is she taking it?”
“She has not spoken two words to me since breakfast. I believe she is in the gardens.” Mr. Everly took a step back, ready to settle into his chair, and opened his book. “You may see her.”
“Thank you, sir.” Jacob took his leave and went through the house to a rear door that opened into the gardens. The gardens were not extensive. They did not stretch far from the house at all, as they might on a grander estate. He easily found Hope, sitting with her back to the house upon a stone bench, a book in her hands and a wide straw bonnet upon her head.
He walked slowly toward her, admiring her slender figure. Ever since he learned of her sentence to remain at home, Jacob had tried to decide what would be the best thing to say when he met her again.
He saw the moment she became aware of his a
pproach. Her spine stiffened and she turned, peering over her shoulder with wide blue eyes. Almost as if she were afraid, or guilty. The poor woman. Jacob raised his hand and offered her his most charming smile—and she jumped to her feet, drawing the book in front of her like a shield.
Strange.
“Hope,” he said, slowing his step once he was at an easy speaking distance. “How are you?” He tried to keep his voice gentle. “I know you cannot be entirely happy. I have come to see about offering you some company.”
“Oh,” she said, drawing the book against her middle. “I see. That is most kind of you, Jacob.” There was no evidence of tears, no immediate storming about her situation. Had her spirits been so terribly shaken? Normally Hope acted with passion, speaking her mind and rarely withholding her feelings. She swallowed and then squared her shoulders. “It has been terrible, being sentenced to stay behind while Grace takes my place. I cannot believe Papa thought such an extreme measure necessary.” Her chin tilted up, a touch belatedly.
Her actions and words were not quite what he expected, which made his response uncertain. “I am sure he did what he thought best. I hope Grace wasn’t too frightened.”
She tilted her chin higher and pulled her shoulders back. “Grace did not wish to go at all. But I am certain the Carlburys will take good care of her.” Then she turned away from him. “You are a good friend to worry after us both.”
“That is what club members do, is it not?” he asked, invoking the memory of their childhood fun. “We look after one another.” He came closer to her, studying the gown she wore, the tendrils of hair that peeked out from her sun bonnet. “Hope?”
She peeked over her shoulder at him. “Yes, Jacob?” Something about the way she said his name was wrong, even for a disappointed and sullen Hope. She always spoke his name with a laugh, or with exasperation, as though she never quite took him seriously. That lilt to her voice was missing.
Could her spirits have been crushed that terribly? And if they were, what was she doing outside? Hope was rather famous for shutting herself away when in a morose frame of mind. Her reaction to the false news of their friend Isaac’s death had been to drape herself in black and shut herself away until practically dragged out by Grace. Though no one had purportedly died this time, to see Hope appear so unaffected confused him. True, the roses had gone out of her cheeks, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, but she acted more skittish than sorrowful.
Discovering Grace: A Regency Romance (Inglewood Book 2) Page 5
