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Discovering Grace: An Inglewood Romance

Page 6

by Britton, Sally


  “What book are you reading?” he asked, taking a step closer.

  She drew the book up, covering it with both hands. “Nothing of importance. I am merely trying to fill the time.”

  He tried to walk around her, but she turned again, keeping her back to him. He stopped, and she stared at him like a rabbit in a trap.

  And then he knew, as abruptly as if a wave had swept his feet out from under him, what had happened. He moved without thought, taking her by the shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him.

  Though the woman tensed in his grip, she did not pull away, nor did her expression turn mutinous. Rather, as he feared it would, her cheeks flared pink and her eyes met his with an open, pleading expression.

  “Jacob,” she whispered, “please, don’t—”

  He cut her off with one word. “Grace.”

  * * *

  When Jacob spoke her name, Grace went cold inside and out. Her own father had not yet realized the wrong daughter remained at home. How had Jacob deduced such a thing in less than five minutes in her presence?

  Judging by the way his face went slack, and how he lowered himself to the bench with slow, deliberate movements, he did not take the revelation well at all.

  “How did you know?” she asked, watching him carefully. She could not afford to give herself away again. Not for two weeks, at the very least.

  He groaned and dropped his face into his hands, muttering something she could not make out, though it certainly did not sound complimentary. He raised his head up, keeping his hands over his mouth, and narrowed his eyes at her. “Never mind how I knew. What in the name of King George are you doing?”

  Jacob never swore. Invoking their mad king’s name was the closest he ever came to it. Which meant he was angrier than he let on. She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him how she had no wish to leave home, could not imagine herself bound for the West Indies on a small ship atop a large ocean, but Jacob spoke first.

  “I cannot understand how Hope could do this to you.” Jacob thrust one hand into his hair in an agitated manner. “She runs off to do as she pleases while you remain behind to take the brunt of your family’s displeasure when the truth comes to light. With the Carlburys, she faces little if any consequences.”

  He thought the whole thing Hope’s idea? Grace understood the reasoning behind that. The most mischievous ideas in the neighborhood often came through her sister.

  “Actually, I did not wish to go—”

  “I know you did not,” Jacob stated readily, shoving himself off the bench. “But circumventing your father like this, ducking her punishment and leaving you to take the full blame is hardly a sisterly act. She knew you would go along with it, too. You would do a great deal to please Hope even if it means denying yourself. It has always been that way.”

  Grace narrowed her eyes at him and held her book tighter. He made it sound as though she let Hope rule all her decisions. True, she often smoothed Hope’s ruffled feathers and made excuses for her sister’s sometimes thoughtless actions, but that did not mean Grace went along with everything her sister suggested.

  “I ought to go right in there to your father and tell him everything.” Jacob paced to the hedge marking the boundary to the fountain’s courtyard, then came back to her. “She is only gone to London for now. There is time to stop her.”

  “No!” Grace surprised herself by shouting, and given the way Jacob stared at her he hadn’t been expecting such an outburst either. Panic had taken hold. Jacob might ruin everything. “You cannot do that to me, Jacob. I know you are upset about this.” And she knew why. His distress at Hope’s decision to leave had been written plainly upon his face, as his anger was now. He had feelings for her sister and had been thwarted in retaining Hope’s company not once, but twice.

  “It has nothing to do with me,” he insisted, stepping closer to her. “It has everything to do with what is right and honest. Hope has put you in a terrible position.”

  “No.” Grace reached out, daring to lay a hand upon his arm. She could feel the tension in his body, saw it in the way his jaw tightened at her touch. “She has saved me. I could not go on that voyage. I’m frightened of the ocean, of being away from all I know. Hope did not do this for selfish reasons. If you tell my father, he will be angry at both of us and take me to London. He will force us to switch back. I cannot do it. Please, do not make me.” Her voice cracked on the word please and she grasped his arm tighter.

  Jacob stared down at her, wincing as though her words pained him. She could see the war within his eyes as he tried to decide what was to be done, where his loyalties must fall.

  “Hope will not forgive you for interfering,” Grace added, lowering her voice. “And I will suffer for it, too.” She thought the former consequence more likely the winning one. If he had any desire to win her sister, if he wished to gain her favor and court Hope, revealing what she had done to their father would end all hope of such a future.

  At last his shoulders sagged and he brought up a hand to lay over hers. “Hope has put me in a difficult position then, too. I would never do anything to harm either of you.” He turned away, his arm sliding from her grip, and he ran a shaky hand through his hair. “How long do you think you can keep your deception going, Grace? There are those who will realize, as I have, that something is wrong.”

  The moment she had seen Jacob approach, her confidence had faltered. Jacob had been friends with both sisters for a long time. Having a particular affection for Hope likely made it easier for him to sense the difference in the sisters. Grace’s private feelings in regard to him also kept her from acting as Hope did in his company.

  For more than two years, Grace had watched as Hope remained oblivious to Jacob’s growing tenderness toward her. Grace had been aware of it likely before Jacob knew what was happening. Grace had felt the difference in how he treated the two of them, how he looked at the two of them. The sting of her disappointment came shortly after noticing the change in Jacob. Grace had admired him, had held his friendship as the most dear to her, for many years. When she realized his preference for Hope, Grace also discovered she had fallen in love with him herself.

  “The servants have yet to notice,” Grace admitted, attempting to conceal her relief with a matter-of-fact tone. “My own father has not seen the truth, though I spent some of the morning in his company. Truthfully, I cannot understand how you realized it with such speed.”

  “You have different ways of expressing yourself,” he said blandly. “You were not as outraged or as hurt as Hope would have been.” Jacob walked away from her, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “I cannot be part of this, Grace. It is wrong and against my principles. My ordination is less than a fortnight away and participating in this kind of ruse is more Shakespearean than Anglican.”

  “I understand.” Grace crossed her arms, hugging her book to herself. “But please, do not give me away. Hope will sail from London within two weeks. She will send me a letter the day they are to depart so I will know it’s safe. As soon as I receive word from her, I will tell my father the truth. You have my word.”

  He did not immediately turn around. He stood with posture erect and every inch of his body stiff as a statue. As she began to despair, Jacob’s shoulders dropped along with his head. “I will not say anything.”

  “Oh, thank you—”

  He raised his hand, forestalling her from speaking another word. “I must go. Good luck, Grace.” He did not so much as look at her as he walked back to the house.

  Although Grace had not expected him to understand, she had hoped for at least some sympathy to her plight. Instead, she had disappointed him so greatly with her actions that he walked away as though he had no wish to even look upon her.

  He had come to visit Hope. To cheer her up for being left behind. But he could not bring himself to offer even one friendly word to Grace, knowing that she took part in what he supposed was Hope’s deception.

  At least he did not know the
entire thing had been Grace’s idea. That would have likely made the situation worse. Perhaps he would have turned her over to her father had he not thought her a victim of Hope’s machinations. She had almost corrected that assumption. It would be one more thing to apologize for later.

  For the moment, she made herself content with the fact that he would not reveal the deception.

  Grace lowered herself back to the stone bench, facing the house this time. If Jacob had not taken her by surprise, perhaps she could have kept her act up longer.

  The betrayal she had seen in his eyes erased any regret she felt over her poor acting. Hurting Jacob was not worth the ruse. Even if he had not promised to keep her secret, Grace wished no ill upon him. Perhaps, due to his feelings for Hope, he would have known no matter how well she mimicked her sister.

  Chapter 7

  Jacob barely gave the horse any guidance and let the beast plod along home at its own pace. His thoughts were miles away, on the road to London with Hope Everly. The outgoing Hope would not maintain her ruse for long. Not if Miss Carlbury knew both sisters well. Hope did not have the patience her sister naturally maintained. Most likely, the Carlburys would realize they had been deceived and send Hope home within days. Such an occurrence would cause quite a scandal.

  Poor Grace, caught up in the middle of the whole mess. Yet if she hadn’t gone along with Hope’s plan, leaving familiar shores for the ocean would have tormented her. But by giving in to her sister, Grace would eventually face her father’s disapproval and the judgmental gossip of their neighbors.

  How could Hope, a woman he held in high affection and esteem, do this to her own flesh and blood? How had she justified such an action, knowing it would hurt another?

  He knew of her longing for adventure and of her dissatisfaction with the daily routine of her life in Aldersy. She expressed her desire to see faraway countries and learn of new things since childhood often enough. As a boy, he had eagerly gone along with her pretend expeditions as he had with Isaac and Silas’s games of soldiers and kings. That’s all it had been for him; fanciful games of pretend. Eventually, he had outgrown the playing and turned his thoughts to education and a profession. Hope, on the other hand, never stopped dreaming and took the steps necessary to ensure such dreams came true. At the expense of her reputation and Grace’s.

  Jacob had never practiced deceit in his adult life. He left off falsehoods in childhood when his mother and father drove home the lessons of honor and trust. Taking part in Grace’s lies simply by omitting the truth turned his stomach. Soon to be a vicar, people expected him to be above reproach in all things.

  If Hope and Grace were found out, and Hope’s deceit scandalized the community, could he still wed her and maintain the respect of the congregants?

  The horse nickered and picked up his pace when they came to the Barnes’ lane, bringing Jacob out of his melancholy thoughts.

  After seeing to his brother’s horse, Jacob dusted himself off and went to walk in his mother’s garden. Hers was smaller than the Everlys’ cultivated shrubberies and flowers, and far more wild in appearance. His mother encouraged a natural look, which meant carefully planned disarray of long, decorative grasses and trellises of vines.

  In a few weeks, Jacob would stand before a congregation full of his neighbors. People who had known him since childhood would sit before him, every Sunday, to weigh and measure his words against scripture and his own character. Some would see taking a wife with Hope Everly’s personality and propensity to find mischief as a disaster.

  Agitation building, Jacob went to a particular wall made from stone. As a boy, when he or one of his brothers misbehaved, his mother would send them outside to “rebuild the wall.” She would come out with a parasol and fan and watch as they took stones from one side of the wall across the garden to another. They had to stack the stones carefully. The physical labor, though it seemed pointless, had done the job of wearing them out as well as forcing them into friendship again. The fight and bluster would be worked out of them, and the boys shared commiserating conversation while they worked.

  Jacob unbuttoned his coat and laid it across a bench, then went to work on the stones. The steady, familiar movement of walking across the garden, the physical demand of carrying a small stack of the rocks along the way, helped him clear his head. For a time, he lost himself in the peaceful monotony of the familiar labor.

  “And here I thought our days of moving rocks were long past.” Matthew’s clear tenor interrupted Jacob’s flow and he nearly tripped on the paving stone. With arms folded and a grin stretched across his face, Matthew chuckled. “You must have done something unbecoming a vicar to be put to this old task.”

  Unable to laugh at the jest, Jacob continued his walk across to the other wall. “While that is not exactly how I would explain it, I suppose that statement is close to the truth.”

  Matthew took off his coat and dropped it on the bench next to Jacob’s. “Sounds serious. Let me help you with your penance. I don’t think any of us ever performed this task alone. We cannot break tradition now.” He tromped over to lift a stone from the wall with an expression befitting a man dedicating time to a more pleasurable task.

  Eyeing his brother, Jacob shook his head. “Suit yourself.”

  As the eldest, and with their father’s death a few years previous, Matthew was the head of the family and carried the concerns of the estate upon his shoulders. He saw to their mother’s needs and had committed to finding husbands for Elizabeth and Mary, their younger sisters. He allowed Jacob to stay on at the house until the vicarage became his home. Matthew also supported their brother, David, in his decision to take up business in London.

  All of the responsibility due to Matthew’s position had aged him, and given him a rather serious outlook on life for the past half dozen years.

  Although, Jacob judged from his brother’s light step and unconscious smile, perhaps that was about to change.

  “You certainly are in a pleasant mood.” Jacob’s remark almost sounded accusing. He cleared his throat and added, “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you.” Matthew passed him, holding a stack of three stone bricks. “I hope all the county may know the reason for my happiness in a few more weeks.”

  “Your courtship is going well?” Jacob asked, picking up three stones of his own.

  Matthew stacked his rocks along the wall, his back to Jacob. “I believe so.” He took an extra moment to align them. “Courting has not been as easy as I expected, but I am finally confident enough in the matter to be hopeful.”

  “That’s good news.” Though Jacob’s circumstances in that area remained less than favorable, he could not resent his brother’s better luck. “If the rest of us move on with our lives quickly enough, your bride might even have a home almost to herself.” He dropped his rocks and cracked them together, lining them up along the top of the wall.

  Matthew stayed where he was, an arm’s length away from Jacob. “I’m in no hurry to see all of you away. You will have your living soon enough, and Mother will remain at the house for as long as she wishes. Elizabeth and Mary are not being courted by anyone at present. My prospective bride knows how I feel about the matter. Eliza is a practical woman.”

  Eliza Muir, a widow with two small children, could hardly afford otherwise. She lived with her late husband’s sister in Aldersy village. Matthew’s sweetheart, a pleasant woman and quite pretty even while wearing mourning colors for her late husband, had captured Matthew’s interest as soon as she arrived. Though no one had suspected as much, including Jacob, until his mother had brought the matter to the family’s attention at dinner one evening.

  Their mother’s uncanny ability to understand her sons’ hearts never failed to amuse Jacob.

  “But let us leave off talking of my present happiness,” Matthew said. He turned and hoisted himself onto the wall, sitting upon the very stones he had laid in place. “Why are you out here executing such a useless task? I will help you in it
all the day long, since you look as though you need the company, but it would be nice to know why we are out working in the sun.”

  “Physical labor is good for us.” Jacob turned and stalked across the courtyard to lift the next stack of rocks. “And it helps me think. You need not stay. I am certain you have more pressing matters to attend to.”

  “Not at all.” Matthew hopped down from the wall again and went back to hauling the pieces from one wall to the other. For several long minutes, neither brother said a word.

  Jacob’s thoughts went back to Grace, pretending to be her sister, and what a disaster it would cause when she was found out. Hope, with all her past antics, had never disappointed him in such a profound manner. Her trick would ruin her in the eyes of the community, would leave Grace in a difficult position, anger her parents, and all for what? For her to live out some childhood fancy to be a pirate or explorer.

  He slammed down his rocks on the wall.

  “Are you sure you do not wish to talk about it?” Matthew’s question sounded less innocent and more concerned.

  “There is little I can say that you would understand,” Jacob said, not even glancing in his brother’s direction as he glared at the stones as though they had given up his thoughts.

  “It is Miss Everly, isn’t it?” Matthew asked.

  Perhaps their mother was not the only one in the family capable of seeing to the heart of a matter. That or, Jacob supposed, he did not hide his feelings so well as he thought. “It is. I am—” What could he say without giving her away? “—Vastly disappointed in how she conducts herself of late. It is most unbecoming a gentlewoman and I don’t know what to make of it.”

 

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