“Yes, miss.” Susan did not even bat an eyelash, turning to begin tidying up the room.
Grace hesitated. Ought she to fix the blunder or not draw attention to it? Pride goeth before a fall, certainly, and her earlier happiness over confusing the cook melted into anxiety once more.
She left the room without another word, silently berating herself. At least she did not have to pretend with Jacob. As much as his early discovery had distressed her, his knowledge offered her relief.
A groom ought to have been saddled and prepared to accompany them on their ride, but the Everly sisters had always been together, chaperoning each other, when they went out with Jacob, or Isaac and Silas. Her parents never deemed a servant necessary. Though Grace recognized the oversight at once, she said nothing. After mounting her sister’s chestnut mare, she guided the horse to the gate at the road.
Jacob, mounted on the tall hunter he favored, waited for her. The moment she caught sight of his form, waiting patiently at the end of the lane, her heart surged out of its normal rhythm into a gait far more appropriate for a running horse.
Grace had never been alone with Jacob, away from the house where anyone might watch them walk through gardens together. Hope had always been present. Or they were in a room or garden filled with people. Today, she had him to herself.
Her whole spirit lightened, she leaned forward and urged the little mare to move faster. She could not waste a moment of this time in his company. It might be the only hour she ever spent with him in such a way.
Except, as she drew closer, she saw Jacob’s deep frown and rigid posture.
Of course, he did not feel as she did. He hated that she and Hope had lied, and he would much rather have her sister riding with him.
It would not matter if anyone else admitted to preferring Hope’s company to Grace’s. But why could Jacob not see or understand how wrong Hope was for him? She would never be content to live at the vicarage by the sea. The horizon beckoned her to explore each day with a vivacity few could keep up with, and even fewer understand. Hope’s heart had wings, and Jacob’s had an anchor keeping him safely at harbor. Jacob, always steady and sure, loved the people who would soon be under his care. For him, the sunset wasn’t to be chased, but admired after a long day’s honest toil.
Grace sighed as she drew up beside him. “Good morning, Jacob.”
He nodded deeply to her, as solemn as if greeting a stranger. “Good morning, Grace.”
Her shoulders slumped and she gripped the reins tighter in her hands. “If it is uncomfortable to be near me, we can forget about the ride. I have no wish to upset you any more than I already have.”
“Oh, Grace. It isn’t that.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “Not entirely that. You are my friend, and even if I do not condone your actions, I understand them.” He turned his horse around. “Come, let us ride while we talk. The horses need the exercise.”
“I am not certain I wish to talk.” Grace followed, staying near without drawing alongside him. “I have the feeling it will be more of a lecture.”
Jacob snorted and craned his neck to peer over his shoulder at her. “That sounded remarkably like Hope.”
Grace smiled despite herself. “I have had a few days of practice. And it is not surprising she resents your lectures; she receives them quite often.”
He pulled up, forcing her to come nearer before he spoke again. “She thinks I lecture her too much?”
“Jacob.” Grace studied the way his eyebrows were drawn down, wishing she could reach over the distance between them to smooth them out. Must he appear so disapproving? “You do lecture her. Often of late.” She moved her horse forward again and he followed suit, staying parallel to her on the road.
Silence hung between them, the gentleman’s head lowered. “I suppose I can be pompous.”
“I’m not certain I would call it that.” Grace held the reins lightly again, trying to give her attention to horse and road. Even with Hope physically absent, she managed to be present in thought. It took a great deal of restraint to avoid sighing over that fact. “You always mean well. But you sound very much like our father. He is forever reminding her to do or be different than she wishes.”
Jacob’s head turned in her direction, his horse moving closer. “Have I done that? It wasn’t my intention. I always admired her more spirited ways. I meant to help her see what others expected.”
As someone who had witnessed the lectures in question, Grace doubted he even understood how his words sounded to Hope. Though she knew he had not meant to stifle her sister, he certainly had made it clear he objected to Hope’s actions a time or two. Yet even after voicing his disapproval, he stared after Hope, watched her every movement, admiring her.
“I understand, Jacob.” Grace turned her horse onto a path off the road, one the three of them had frequently followed on their rides together. The horses knew the trail well.
“Thinking on it, I suppose I spoke more often than my place allowed. A friend should censure less.” Jacob ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch that she had but to tip her head forward to pass. He was not an astoundingly tall man. Not like Silas or Isaac. But he carried himself with a confidence that made him seem larger than he was. He glanced at her, tilting his head to the side. “Do you ever take issue with your sister’s behavior? I cannot recall you speaking ill of her.”
“She is my sister.” Grace offered him the barest shrug. “I have cautioned her at times, but it is not for me to tell her how to act. She does not always consider the consequences to what she does. But there is no one who would come to a friend’s aid faster than Hope. I have never wanted to curb her liveliness.”
Jacob turned his attention back to the road, his expression unreadable. “Even if most of society regards her liveliness as ill-mannered?”
“Why have we any worries over society? We are not often away from home, and here, people know and care for us.”
“But what of the future, when you are gone from home?” Jacob asked, then his jaw tightened.
Grace knew the conversation had turned to something of a more delicate matter. Something she did not entirely wish to discuss with Jacob. It would hurt, if he said too much. The man had absolutely no idea how much it pained her to know how her feelings were overlooked.
“You speak of marriage,” she said, watching him carefully.
Jacob’s eyes darkened and he pulled his horse slightly away from her. “Yes.”
Grace stiffened her spine. If he wanted to take this path in their conversation, then she would say exactly what he needed to hear, even if it was not what she most wished he knew.
“Hope and I have always agreed on one thing. We will not marry where there is not love. If a man truly loves Hope, he will see her for all her strengths and weaknesses, and not wish to change her. He will love her as she is.” She adjusted her grip on the reins. “And I pray I find the same.” Then she gave her horse a nudge, urging the animal into a faster pace.
Let him think on what she said and put together his response with care. How could he think himself in love with Hope when he saw fault when she acted in the way most natural to her? Hope could behave better, and the same might be said for most people, but nothing in her character posed any true moral difficulties.
At length, Jacob’s horse drew even with hers again, matching her pace. He did not attempt conversation, riding at her side. Ignoring him, Grace tipped her head and leaned over her mare, enjoying the wind.
“To the beach?” Jacob shouted. A few miles away, it would make their ride long.
Grace almost cheered at the suggestion. “Yes, of course.” They talked no more, but their horses raced along the paths that would take them to the shore faster than the road itself. Here they cut through the property of neighbors and friends, all the way to the Inglewood estate.
They slowed when they reached Silas’s lands. Silas Riley, the Earl of Inglewood, and his bride, Esther, had gone away to London to complete his time in Parliament.
The house remained shut up while they were away. With the earl and his countess in London, and Hope gone, the group of friends had been broken up again. At least Isaac had returned from the war, but he kept to himself a great deal.
“We ought to call upon Isaac soon.” She spoke without thinking, their former conversation fallen from her thoughts.
Jacob glanced toward the north, where Isaac’s baronetcy lay. “I have thought the same. We should not leave him to himself long.”
They broke through the trees into the long grasses, then down the drop to the beaches. The rush of the waves and salted wind calmed her, though the breeze immediately took to teasing at the curls on the back of her neck. Most of her dark locks had been artfully pulled upward to fit beneath Hope’s purple hat.
Grace shifted in her saddle. “Perhaps we could call upon him together?” She bit her lip after speaking.
“I will ask my mother if she might wish to come and see the gardens.” Grace’s confusion must have shown. Jacob chuckled before he added, “You need a chaperone now, Miss Everly. You’ve no sister to accompany you.”
“Oh. I suppose so. I thought on that today, actually. But with my mother away and everyone so used to the way we do things, no one said a word about a groom following along.” She watched a gull dip low across their path before it caught the wind and soared upward, over the water. “And we both know I am safe with you.” Whether that was true due to his position as an almost-vicar or the lack of attraction he held for her, Grace did not allow herself to decide.
Jacob said nothing, and Grace kept her attention upon the birds.
They had turned home, and regained the path, when Jacob finally spoke the matter upon his heart. If it were anyone but Grace, he would say nothing, but she understood him and her sister in a way no one else ever could.
“I had thought of marrying Hope,” he said, his words breaking through the silence of Inglewood’s trees more abruptly than he thought they would. The sentence fell upon his ears as the sound of an axe against one of the birch trees.
Grace did not turn to him in shock, nor did she gasp or give way to any other dramatics. Instead her dainty chin jutted outward and her gaze remained fixed on the path before them.
“I know.” The words were too clipped for him to find any sign of her thoughts on the matter.
“You do?” How he might coax more from her? She dipped her head in a brief nod, but her lips stayed pressed together. Certainly she had more to say on the subject than that. “I was terribly obvious?”
Grace ducked her head to avoid a branch, then kept her gaze down, avoiding his. “To me, yes.”
Rather than embarrassment, Jacob felt relief at her admission. “My mother sorted it out as well. Perhaps my brother did, too. But Hope never acted any differently. I thought I had been circumspect.” He removed his hat long enough to swipe at the thin line of sweat upon his brow. Though the weather remained mild, the heavy coat he wore kept him uncomfortably hot.
“She never said anything of it to me, if that is what concerns you.” Grace’s tone sounded disapproving. “Why did you never say anything to her?”
Jacob’s mount snuffled, causing him to realize how tense he had grown. He bent his neck from one side to the other in an attempt to relieve that feeling. “Truthfully? I had no idea how she might react to the idea. We have all been friends for so long. I thought she might laugh at me.” He studied Grace from the corner of his eye. Would Grace laugh at him? No, she had always been a compassionate sort, and kept her emotions well hidden beneath a mild, calm expression. Except at that moment, her lips were pressed together in what appeared to be an uncomfortably tight manner.
Jacob tried to ease the conversation into more comfortable territory. Perhaps his distress over the situation had wounded Grace’s feelings, too. She was his friend, after all, and they discussed her sister’s future too casually. “It was all for nothing, obviously. Hope is gone now.” He put one hand to the back of his neck, rubbing at the knot at its base.
“She will return in a year,” Grace said, bending to twitch at her riding skirts on the side opposite him. “You could begin your suit in earnest then.”
While he had once tried to comfort himself with that truth, it had grown harder to do so of late. Speaking his doubts to Grace only brought his folly further into light. A wave of uncertainty that had lapped at his ankles had started to rise. As often as he tried to lecture Hope into doing things the proper way, into being the sort of person that he wished for rather than who she was, would she ever see him as more than a friend?
“Will you miss her?” Jacob asked, rather than continue discussing a possible courtship. “Her liveliness, her entertainments?”
Grace’s expression softened and she faced forward, presenting him with a profile that might physically resemble Hope, though the gentleness in her countenance was something he’d never seen upon her sister’s face.
“I will miss her companionship.” That admittance came with a sorrow he hadn’t expected. “She is my dearest friend. There is no one who knows me so well as Hope. As to the entertainments,” Grace fiddled with her horse’s mane and sighed. “I don’t suppose there will be as many, with Hope away, but we will get on.”
“Yes, as we must. I wonder who will take up her projects while she is away?”
Grace turned to him finally, her nose wrinkled. “Which projects?”
Hope had been involved in any number of charitable schemes. A redeeming quality, balancing out her sometimes more inappropriate actions. “The sewing group she started last month, to provide linens and clothing for the orphans of soldiers. There were several women interested in participating, I thought.”
The woman at his side frowned and turned away, most abruptly. “Her conversation will be missed at that gathering, to be certain. But that was not Hope’s project.”
“It wasn’t?” Yet Jacob had heard Hope in the churchyard, inviting women to come to her home to work out how best to go about organizing the work. “What of her championing a circulating library for Aldersy, then?”
“All that remains for that is collecting the donations and dues that have been pledged.” Grace did not even bat an eye before answering. “I intend to see that done and then my father will lease a room in the village and hire someone to oversee the books.”
“That is good, that you know what must yet be accomplished.” Jacob regarded her closed expression carefully. “Did you assist Hope with all that she worked upon?”
For a moment, Grace pressed her lips together tightly enough that they turned white, as though she were forcing herself not to answer him. Odd. “I apologize, this subject seems to upset you.”
She shook her head slowly. “It isn’t that. Not precisely that.” Grace pressed her gloved fingers to her temple. “You needn’t worry over anything Hope has left undone. I am well prepared to manage the sewing, library, and even the proposed Sunday school class for the betterment of the working-class daughters.”
Jacob had known that last one had been presented by both sisters to the vicar. They had asked for his opinion on teaching some of the younger children skills they might use to obtain better serving positions as they grew older. The vicar had consulted Jacob, as it must eventually fall under his supervision, and they had both been impressed by the plan.
“I’m grateful you will see to those things in her absence.” Indeed, he was certain Grace’s hard work might spare her sister harsher criticism later.
As energetically as Hope went about doing good for others, Grace had always seemed to stand as a quiet support to her sister, tethering the exuberance in a way that made Hope’s efforts more focused. It was good to know that Hope’s efforts would not be forgotten, that the community would remember her kind acts as they were carried on in her absence.
Apart from that concern, once people discovered what Hope and Grace had done, the lie told by them both, would anyone accept her as a clergyman’s wife?
“Perhaps by the time she ret
urns the gossip will have died down.” He emitted a deep groan and rubbed at his eyes. “You are both going to face consequences for that, Grace.”
Grace’s posture stiffened and she turned to him, her face pale. “You do not think our neighbors might forgive such a thing? We haven’t harmed anyone.”
“But have you ruined the trust your friends had in you?” Jacob winced, imagining what the gossips might say. “A vicar’s wife must be a reflection on him, and therefore above reproach. Courting Hope could prove difficult.”
“I see.” Grace’s mount snorted and pulled abruptly to the side. Jacob eyed the mare dubiously. She was Hope’s horse, and therefore a more spirited animal than the one Grace normally rode. Their pace had likely become too sedate for the creature.
Grace righted the mare, taking firm hold of the reins. “I hope things are not as bad as you fear, Jacob. You deserve to be happily settled in your new life.”
Though the words were kind, something about the way Grace said them changed their meaning. Her tone bordered on satirical.
“I meant no slight to Hope,” Jacob added quickly. “Or to you. I am only being honest.”
“Oh, I understand.” The horse danced sideways again. “If you will excuse me. I had better give this fine lady the exercise she wishes.” They were nearly off the Inglewood estate and onto her father’s property, but when Grace leaned over the horse’s neck and gave the mare her head, Jacob’s worry mounted and he tried to keep up with her, in case the animal proved too much for the young woman.
To his surprise, Grace proved she was as fine a horsewoman as her sister, which made sense, given that they had grown up riding together. Though he could not recall ever seeing Grace galloping across the country as heedless of speed as Hope. Even when she rode directly behind her sister, Grace exuded a calm and capable manner.
Grace had always kept pace with Hope, and not just while riding.
When they came back to the Refuge, Jacob expected Grace to slow down and bid him farewell. Instead she rode directly through the gates, and he remained on the road.
Discovering Grace: A Regency Romance (Inglewood Book 2) Page 9
