Discovering Grace
An Inglewood Romance
Sally Britton
His Unexpected Heiress © 2019 by Sally Britton. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Cover design by Blue Water Books
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Sally Britton
www.authorsallybritton.com
First Printing: August 2019
For My Friends.
To my husband, forever and always.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Also by Sally Britton
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
May of 1814
Somewhere in the house a door slammed. Grace winced but otherwise did not react to the evidence of her twin sister’s displeasure. She kept her hands busy embroidering a blue silk shawl.
Soon enough, Hope would come barreling into the morning room to interrupt Grace’s peaceful occupation. The Everly twins, known throughout the neighborhood for their opposing temperaments despite their identical appearance, had developed something of a pattern when it came to Hope’s rather outrageous conduct.
Hope would come up with a scheme, tell Grace all about it, then enact her plan. Sometimes it would be something as simple as arranging a picnic or musical recital for their friends, at other times it would involve somewhat more scandalous behavior. Most recently, Hope had taken to racing her phaeton against others with similar carriages pulled by ponies, often with Grace clinging to her bonnet with one hand and her seat with the other. Inevitably, when Hope did something that the local matrons frowned upon, news of it soon came to their parents.
“I did warn her this time,” she whispered into the quiet of the room, breaking the silence before her sister could.
The rumors of the races had evidently reached Papa, given the raised voices heard moments ago. The door slamming meant the conversation had ended, not in Hope’s favor, and she would appear at any moment to bemoan whatever punishment she had been given, while Grace listened.
Grace found her scissors and snipped the pink thread, completing the rosebud. She put her needles back in their box and tucked everything into her sewing basket. Then she folded her hands in her lap and waited.
She did not have to wait long.
The door to the morning room slammed open as though propelled by an explosion. Hope stormed in directly and banged the door shut again, her blue eyes flashing. “I cannot understand why Papa must be so sensitive to Mrs. Keyes’s opinions. I know perfectly well that other young ladies race their ponies. It is not as though I am stampeding about on a great big hunter.”
As usual, it fell to Grace to placate her twin. “Yes, but it is a matter of propriety. Simply because other young ladies do such things does not mean Papa wants his daughters to do the same.”
Upon first meeting the sisters, people often expected them to be as similar in personality as appearance. They both had the same black hair, even if Grace preferred more mature styles over the enormous curls her sister favored, and the same deep blue eyes. Yet Hope’s eyes were more likely to flash with passion while Grace’s remained as tranquil as forest pools. Even their figures had remained mostly the same as they matured.
If one looked carefully, one might note the slightest difference in height. Hope was a quarter of an inch taller, and three quarters of an hour older. Both facts she had used in the past to get her way when they entered into one of their rare disputes.
Hope snorted in a most unladylike manner. “It is astoundingly boring to limit myself to what Papa and Mama think are appropriate activities. It is all very well and good for you to sit here and practice domesticity, but I wish for something more stimulating. We are twenty-four years old this summer and nothing of interest has ever happened to us.”
Domestic. That was an apt word for Grace, and one she would happily wear with pride. Not that it did her any good when it came to finding a gentleman who might appreciate such a quality. Hope’s firm rejection of marrying “too early” had come to include Grace through association alone, and Grace worried they had waited until “too late.” Given that her thoughts naturally turned to one man when she considered the subject of matrimony, and that man showed no romantic interest in her, Grace put it from her mind.
There was no use examining such thoughts at the moment. Not with Hope’s state of agitation.
“What is it that would suit your desire for excitement?” Grace knew the answers, of course. “There are no highwaymen to stop your carriage, no pirates to come ashore and rob you, and no hidden treasure for you to stumble upon in the woods. You must learn, dearest sister, that most people have ordinary lives.”
“I hardly wish for anything so drastic.” Though Hope spoke with a wrinkled nose, her tone was more weary than scornful. “But why can we not go to London for the rest of the Season? Or Bath to take in the waters. Or to the Continent now that the war has ended.”
Mama did not like to travel, and Papa had no desire to go anywhere without her. They had spent most of their lives in their village of Aldersy. As Mama and Papa were considered to be pillars of the community, and their friendships included such people as the Earl of Inglewood, the Barnes Family, Sir Isaac Fox, and every member of the gentry within fifteen miles, they were quite content that neither themselves nor their children go wandering.
Grace did not bother pointing all of this out to Hope, as her sister knew it all well enough. But she did offer a commiserating grimace. “You need not go too far afield for adventure. You have proven that time and again.”
“And suffered rather severely for it,” Hope muttered. She went to the window and stood there, chin jutting out and brows drawn down into a scowl. “I cannot understand why you are like them rather than like me. Why do you not want to experience something more grand? Or different.”
Oddly, that was not a question Hope had ever tossed at her before. They had always accepted their disparity in personality, without complaint or judgment. Perhaps in part because they tired of everyone else around them asking inane questions about their twinship.
Grace considered her answer before giving it.
“I do not think I am necessarily like them. I am only myself. I enjoy our village, though I know it to be small. I find no lack of entertainment in our life here in the country. I have never thought to want more than what I am presently grateful for.”
Except for one thing. There was one single thing that Grace had wanted, and even wished for, but it was not something she could discuss with Hope.
“You are as good as your name.” Hope flicked the gauzy white curtain away from the window, peering do
wn the lane. “Someone is coming to visit. I cannot tell who…”
Grateful for the change in subject, Grace rose to peer out the window as well. Hope stepped aside, pulling the curtain open wider.
When they stood next to each other, as they did to study the approaching gig, people had an easier time telling them apart. Grace wore subdued blues and greens, sometimes lavenders. Hope put on brighter colors, in yellows, peach-like pinks, and occasionally a daring shade of red. When they were younger, their mother had dressed them alike until they were old enough to settle on their preferences. Even in their sense of fashion, they diverged most naturally.
“I think it is the Carlburys.” Grace pointed at the distinctive dappled gray horse. “See, that is their horse.”
“Oh, lovely! And two women in the gig. Mrs. Carlbury must have Irene with her.” Hope bounced up and down, her earlier scowl no longer in evidence. “Come, let us go down and meet them.”
Miss Irene Carlbury and her family had settled in the neighborhood half a dozen years before and had almost immediately found favor in the Everly household. Though three years younger than the Everly twins, they formed a fast friendship with the newcomer. Irene’s family had lived in the Caribbean, on an island called St. Kitt’s by those who knew it best, and that exotic previous residence immediately endeared Irene to Hope. Miss Carlbury had come to England with the hopes of becoming refined and genteel, which endeared Grace to her just as quickly.
Several times a week, the three could be found together with their heads bent over ladies’ magazines or else walking along the beach, speaking of the doings in the neighborhood.
Grace followed her sister down the steps and to the small hall near the main set of doors. While Grace enjoyed the quiet of the house, having her younger siblings away at school did leave things a little too peaceful at times. They were not too far, but at enough of a distance that they boarded and came home to visit once a month.
Garrett, their butler, was opening the door when Hope and Grace stepped off the stairway.
“Mrs. Carlbury, Irene, how good to see you both.” Hope offered her curtsy and Grace followed with her own. “I am very glad you have come to call.”
“Ah, but I think you shall be even gladder when you have learned the reason.” Irene appeared barely able to keep her grin from bursting onto her cherubic face. She was built taller than the Everlys and had a bright exuberance for life that Grace admired. Where Hope was wild and passionate, Irene was much more measured in the ways she found entertainment.
“Hush now, my dear. We must share our news with Mr. and Mrs. Everly as well.” Mrs. Carlbury had caught her daughter’s infectious grin but worked harder to keep it at bay. “Where might we find your parents this afternoon?”
“Father is in his study,” Grace answered, eyeing their guests with good-humored suspicion. “Mother might be in her garden, given the mild weather.” The Carlbury ladies exchanged a meaningful glance.
“I will fetch Mama.” Hope turned to go without a thought for properly seeing to the guests first.
“And I will show you both to Papa,” Grace added, making up for her sister’s forgetfulness. She did not mind. It had become something of a habit over the years for her to smooth over the ripples caused by her sister’s propensity to hurry about.
She went before her guests, who were still exchanging their secretive smiles, and led them to her father’s study. She knocked politely on his door and waited for permission to enter before stepping inside. “Papa, Mrs. Carlbury is here, and she would like to have a word with you and Mother.”
Papa sat behind his desk, his spectacles perched precariously on the bridge of his nose. He held a book in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. He laid both items down and stood.
“Please, show them in.” His study doubled as the family library. Their collection was not large, but it consisted of volumes dear to the whole family. Because the room was used for reading as well as business, there was more than enough furniture to hold everyone.
Papa stepped forward to bow to their guests, then kindly led Mrs. Carlbury to the most comfortable of the chairs. He was always thoughtful; even in the smallest details, Grace saw evidence of his kindness. Once their guests were seated, Papa removed his spectacles and tucked them into his coat pocket. Grace made note of it, as her father often lost his reading glasses, even upon his very person.
“Hope has gone for your mother?” he asked, his graying eyebrows raised. Grace knew her father well enough that she saw the question he would ask if the two of them had been alone. Is your sister still upset?
Grace shook her head slightly to answer the silent inquiry, while aloud she said, “Yes, they will be with us momentarily. Shall I send for refreshment?”
“No need.” Mama’s rich alto filled the room, her beautiful voice bringing a smile to Papa’s gentle face. He loved her voice. Loved when she sang. Grace had not inherited that ability from her parents. They were both quite musical. Hope, on the other hand, could sing the birds from the trees if she wished too. But she was contrary enough to dislike singing. Likely because she had been forced into any number of duets with Grace when they were younger.
Hope never liked being made to do anything.
“Oh, I am glad to see you, Mrs. Carlbury. It has been too long since we last visited. Has your husband’s business in London concluded at last?” Mama asked, coming into the room to sit near her friend.
“Nearly. Mr. Carlbury is still in Town.” Though near the same age as their mother, Mrs. Carlbury always seemed several years younger, given her excitable nature. She continued to stare at them all quite as if she had a secret ready to erupt from her at any moment. “He is finalizing our removal to Saint Christopher’s Island.”
Grace reached for her sister’s hand, as they sat in chairs next to one another, her stomach tightening with disappointment. Most likely, Hope’s disappointment at such an announcement would be the same.
“Oh my,” their mother breathed.
Their father leaned forward in his chair, scrutinizing the women before him. “I did not think you wished to return to the West Indies. I thought your family had finished with the place.”
“We do not go back to take up permanent residence,” Mrs. Carlbury said. She continued beaming, as though she had announced plans for a party rather than a removal. “We escort one of Mr. Carlbury’s friends, a member of Parliament, to look into the conditions of the plantations and the workers. He is a man with an eye for reform. An associate of Mr. Wilberforce, if you can believe it. Our trip is somewhat diplomatic in nature.”
“How long will you be away?” Hope asked, her voice quavering. “We shall miss you so much.”
“Perhaps a little under a year.” Irene moved closer to the end of her chair. “But I hope you shall not all have cause to miss us, as I have asked Mama for permission to bring a friend for companionship.”
Grace’s discomfort increased. Irene meant to take one of the two sisters to visit the Caribbean with her. With her throat constricting, Grace did not see how that would be of benefit to anyone. No matter which sister was chosen, the other would be left behind, disappointed and alone.
Rarely did Hope and Grace part with one another for more than a few days. If Hope went away, Grace would not be nearby to smooth her sister’s path. If the invitation was extended to Grace, she would have to decline. Her, set sail for such a faraway place? Never. The prospect made her heart shudder and her lungs close up.
“If your family is amenable to the idea,” Mrs. Carlbury said in a hasty manner. “We have secured three berths. One for myself and Mr. Carlbury, another for our eldest son, and one for Irene. Albert will find amusement enough for himself, but we should like Irene to have a companion for the voyage as well as our time touring the islands. Our youngest, Richard, is busy with his studies and will not accompany us.”
“Dear me. This is quite the adventure for your family.” Mama tucked her hands in her lap and looked to Papa, tiny w
rinkles at her brow giving away her concern. “And such a long way to travel, so soon after the war’s end. Do you not fear privateers?”
“Not in the least.” Mrs. Carlbury waved her hand before her as though she could brush the idea of sailing thieves away as one might a gnat. “Our navy has cleared the seas and, as you said, the war is over.”
Hope moved to the edge of her chair and leaned forward, as though she could not get close enough to the conversation. “Which of us do you wish to accompany you on your journey?”
Grace’s eyes darted to her sister’s, and she barely stifled a gasp at the naked longing in her sister’s eyes. Did Hope not understand what it would mean to go on such a journey? To be away for nearly a year, whatever the adventure might be, with the uncertainty of traveling over an entire ocean in a small boat—No. Even Hope could not be so reckless a spirit as that.
“I thought it best to let your family talk it over amongst yourselves,” Mrs. Carlbury said, turning to look from Mama to Papa. “You know your daughters best, and surely Irene ought not be pressed to decide between her two closest friends.”
“It would truly prove too difficult a task,” Irene insisted, lowering her eyes momentarily. “You have both been so kind to me since we came to the neighborhood. I love you equally, as I must, and I would be grateful to have either of you on this adventure. I wish I could bring you both.”
Her mother patted her daughter’s hand in a soothing manner. “We did discuss the possibility of such, but the expense and strain of travel is not to be taken on lightly. I could not possibly deprive you of both your daughters, either.”
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