Finding Grace: A Novel

by Sarah Pawley

  Along the upper corridor he’d been walking among his guests, shaking hands with people he knew and examining the ones he didn't, looking for signs of pleasure and happiness. As was usually the case, all was content among his patrons, and so for the most part, he was relaxed. Passing along the railing above the dance floor, he happened to look down for a moment, and he recognized John and Alice Langdon.

  Without hesitation his eye started searching about for the little sister. For several moments, he felt the first stirrings of disappointment. Maybe she hadn’t come. Perhaps she had stayed away after all.

  Then his eye was caught by a young woman in rose chiffon, sitting alone at a table. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly up.

  So, he’d been wrong. She hadn't hidden herself away, fearful of risking her innocence in a den of the devil. She was here, after all. And he found that for once, being wrong wasn’t such a bad thing.

  Leaning his arms on the railing, he watched her for several moments. He didn't worry if she would see him or not. Unless prompted to do so, how often did people actually look up at something right above their heads? So he felt quite free to look his fill. And what he saw, he liked…very much.

  She had a delicate face, punctuated by fine eyes. Her skin was sun-kissed, which was so much nicer than the current trend of being lily white. Her figure was thin, but shapely. From what little he’d managed to see of them, her legs were elegant and toned. She really was a beauty, but not in a made-up way, like so many women he knew. She had an earthy, natural look. It was attractive as hell.

  He thought of that moment between them in the hallway. He’d brushed against her on purpose, knowing it would get a reaction. Whether it frightened her or excited her, he didn’t really care, though he suspected it had been a little of both. For him, it had been all about the thrill. He liked the sound of that first little intake of breath…the one all women made the first time they were touched, even in the smallest way, by a man they might be attracted to. And she’d been drawn to him, whether she wanted to admit it or not. He’d seen the look in her eyes…the slight little wobble of her body as she tried to recover her senses. It was the same reaction he got from many women, and he liked it.

  But it wasn’t love. Hell no, it wasn’t even close to being that.

  He scorned the idea of being in love. He'd gone that road before as a youth, with his wife, and he vowed never to be so foolish again. This was pure, physical attraction.

  Not that it was going to lead anywhere. He knew she was off limits in those ways, and he accepted it. She was much too pure…much too naive for the likes of him. But it wouldn’t hurt to tease her a little, to make her see what she was missing by being so wet-behind-the-ears.

  A round of applause went up as the band ended their song down below. He watched as she clapped along, clearly enjoying herself. She was in a good mood, so maybe he could sidle up to her and find a place for himself. It would be looking, not touching, so she didn’t have to worry on that score. He made his way determinedly down the staircase. At the bottom, he turned towards her table. He reached up to right the lapels of his suit.

  But then his hands fell away. Such preparation was useless, it seemed. John and Alice had returned to the table, and all three were engaged in conversation. Irritated by the interruption of his plans, he retreated into the shadows under the stairs.

  The lights dimmed around the place, the MC’s voice coming over the microphone to announce a solo performance. Victoria was about to take to the stage, and a round of applause went up around the room. Out of habit he turned his head to watch as the spotlight fell on her. She started singing a beautiful rendition of Irving Berlin’s “Always.” She did have a spectacular voice. That was why she was the most popular of all the entertainers that worked for him. But after hearing her sing for so long, there was little left in her performance that moved him. Just like the other acts in residence, she was part of his business, and not much more. His audience, however, was what mattered. And at the end of Victoria’s performance there was a roar of applause…perfect evidence of why they made such a great business partnership. She loved the glamour and power that came with being a star. And though it was a shallow notion, he profited from her love of attention. Their professional lives mirrored their personal lives. Each got what they needed from the other, and that was fine with them both.

  She soon launched into another song. She was joined on the stage by several other girls, and together they danced and sang to the beat. When they were done, the audience once again went wild. Then the band began to play again...this time a slow, romantic tune that couples swayed to.

  He turned his head back to the table where Grace was sitting. Watching, he saw her rise to her feet. She said something to her brother, who said something in return…and from the look on his face, he was not pleased. But she just smiled, shaking her head. She gave him a pat on the shoulder, and slowly she walked away from the table…moving in the opposite direction of himself. He found he could not resist the urge to follow her, to see where she was headed.

  The Langdons once again took to the dance floor, and he was glad of it. Now he could pass their table without having to stop and exchange polite words. As he went, he passed several familiar faces…and despite his wish to move along, he shook hands in his usual manner, giving words of courtesy to those who spoke to him. But he hardly took his eyes off of her. She strolled slowly about, looking over the architecture and furnishings with childlike wonder. He kept a certain distance, finding that he enjoyed watching her when she was unaware of him.

  But after a while, he felt it was silly to keep following her in that way. What would be the harm in approaching her? He took a step towards her…but a colleague stopped him, wanting to discuss a matter of business. The distraction was momentary, but long enough for him to lose sight of Grace.

  Where had she gone? He looked around, but there was no sight of her. He walked towards the end of the hall, nearing the doorway that led to the backstage area. Surely she wasn’t anywhere near here. It was quite a distance from the main public area. He turned to go back.

  It was then that he heard the yelling. It was coming from the backstage area, and he rushed through the door as quickly as he could.

  There she was, being chastised by one of his stage managers, Hal Needham. What a twerp he was. If ever a man had a Napoleon complex, it was him. Short and stout, he felt the need to be maniacal in order to be heard. At that moment, he was unleashing his temper on Grace. But she wasn’t afraid of him. Her temper was nearly as hot as his. She protested loudly.

  “I wasn’t hurting anything!”

  Hal didn’t back down, giving her a push towards the door.

  “I’m tired of you two-bit floosies hanging around the backstage doors, looking for your next gig.” He grabbed her by the arm, dragging her along.

  Henry moved fast. Before he quite realized what he was doing, he grabbed Hal by the collar, throwing him against the wall. He sneered at him.

  “What are you doing? Don’t you ever touch a customer like that!” His nostrils flared. “I should send you crawling out of here on your belly!”

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he was acting like a madman. It was only that thought that kept Hal from getting a fist to the face. Henry watched as Hal straightened his collar, trying to gather his dignity. Before scurrying away he gave Grace an evil look. She was watching from a distance, wide-eyed. Henry turned to her, his eyes bright with rage. He snatched her arm firmly.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you know not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong? What are you, stupid or something?”

  She yanked her arm away…the force of her strength stunning him. But it was her eyes, suddenly dark with rage, that stunned him. The venom in her voice was shocking. She shouted in his face.

  “Téigh trasna ort féin!”

  Then she fled…and he stood there, his mouth slightly agape.

  She had just cursed at him i
n Gaelic. Gaelic, of all things. His own native Irish language…and he knew exactly what she had said.

  Go screw yourself, was the rough translation.

  A little country girl using such a foul turn of phrase? Where the hell had that come from? He just couldn’t believe it.

  Apparently, everyone else around him was just as stunned. Several crew members were standing around staring, some of them whispering. He suddenly came back to himself, glaring at them, his blue eyes blazing.

  “What are you looking at? Get back to work!”

  His command was enough to send them back to their business. Then his thoughts turned back to what had just happened…and he was angry at her all over again. He spoke out loud, more to himself than to anyone else.

  “Stupid girl.” But a moment later he felt a wave of guilt wash over him, making him feel a strange blend of both fury and remorse.

  Damn little fool. She got the scolding she deserved.

  But then he wondered why he’d acted so rashly. What had come over him? The sight of someone doing her harm had enraged him. But why? And why did he feel so bad about his actions? She’d been in a place she didn’t belong, and he’d served her with the correction she deserved.

  Then why was he standing alone, looking and feeling like a fool? Well he didn’t intend to remain that way. The matter would be settled immediately. Right now.

  He hurried through the door, looking for her, but she was not to be found. He made his way down the hall, coming across the table where the Langdons had been. The other patrons were all seated and watching a dance act on the stage. But the Langdons table was empty. Which meant that they had gone, and Grace with them. He hurried to the hall. But when he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped.

  To hell with it, he thought. I will not make a fool of myself for anyone, and certainly not for her.

  He turned back towards the ballroom, intent on crossing the hall and heading upstairs to the privacy of his office. He needed to be alone to clear his head, especially now that his tie and collar seemed to be choking him. But just as he reached the steps, he heard Victoria calling his name…and it made him spout a foul curse under his breath. In all likelihood she would be making the same old complaint, whining about one of the chorus girls. And sure enough, that was her subject when she approached him, her arms flailing dramatically.

  “Henry, I can’t take it anymore! That new little dancer you hired had the nerve to sit at my makeup table. I’m the star of this show, and I’m sick of these little two-bit dollies not knowing their place.”

  He turned on her, his eyes dark with fury.

  “Hell and damnation, woman! Will you stop whining? I don’t give a damn about a makeup table!” Desperately wishing to escape, he started up the steps, but she followed…raging on.

  “What am I supposed to do? I need my own space to prepare!”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! Wear a bag over your head for all I care! Just get away from me!”

  He heard her indignant little squall, but ignored it, marching up the stairs.

  Reaching his office at the end of the hall he entered quickly, kicking the door back to slam it shut. His first act was to reach up and yank away his tie, throwing it down on the desk. Pulling his collar loose, he took a deep breath as he sank into his seat. Leaning his head back against the top of the chair, he took a deep breath.

  Lord have mercy, he thought. His peace of mind was wrecked, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Just yesterday morning, his life had been so set, so organized. Hell, even his way of thinking had been in perfect order. He had his daily routine that he stuck to, and a limited list of subjects that he had to keep his mind on, and beyond that, there wasn’t much in life he cared to worry about. Now, he was suddenly a mental wreck…and it was all her fault.

  Grace Langdon, you little witch, he thought bitterly. What kind of spell have you cast on me?

  The last thing he wanted was to have a new woman on his mind. But his head was filled with thoughts of her. It had been that way from the first…ever since he’d first seen those stormy blue-grey eyes at the train station. It was the eyes he kept thinking of. It was said that eyes were windows into the soul, and there was something fascinating behind that gaze of hers. The girl was a puzzlement. He couldn’t figure her out. She looked so serene and sweet…so passive. He recalled watching her through the window yesterday, and again tonight. He recalled the way she looked… how she looked like an eager little girl exploring her new world. But when put upon, this wild little woman appeared, looking like she could tear him apart. In his head he heard her cursing him.

  Téigh trasna ort féin.

  Suddenly he found himself grinning. His mood was suddenly lifted as he thought of her, now with a streak of admiration. Such spirit. Such bold honesty. How many people looked him in the eye and dared to say exactly what they thought? It was the second time she’d bluntly insulted him…this time more harsh than the first. He started to wonder…

  What would she do if he pushed her hard enough?

  It might be fun to find out, he thought. If he pushed her buttons a little, what would she do? He was almost excited at the prospect. The next time they met, he intended to provoke her… and to enjoy every moment of it. As a boy, he’d prodded the occasional hornets’ nest with a stick, just to watch the swarm get angry. It was childish…maybe even a little bit dangerous. But what fun it was. And what was life without a bit of entertainment?

  * * * * *

  She stood at her bedroom window, staring out at the moon. But the beauty of the night hardly concerned her. She reached up to her cheek, wiping away a tear that had escaped her eye.

  Why had she ever, even for just a moment, thought that Henry was different from any other man…from any other person in general? Maybe he’d been right in telling her she didn’t belong back stage, but why did he have to be so vicious about it? He’d insulted her quite cruelly, and though she’d insulted him right back, it hardly helped her feel better.

  No one in the world had ever cared for her, except for Jack and Alice. Henry was just as cruel as all the others...and she'd been a fool to hope otherwise. Then why was her heart hurting so badly?

  What good was a heart…a thing so easily broken? If only she could shut down her feelings. Love and generosity... kindness and compassion. They were all empty notions, doing more pain than good. And yet they remained in her soul, imbedded like a deep root.

  Well if they were to stay there against her consent, she swore she would save such soft feelings for her brother and sister-in-law. Who else had ever been worthy? No one. It seemed that’s how it would always be.

  Henry would certainly never get close to her heart, if she had anything to say about it.

  * * * * *

  The next morning was a Sunday…a welcome day, in her mind. One on which she hoped to meditate and find strength in her faith.

  The pilgrimage was rather different than the one she’d known at home. The church was but a short walk away, reached in only a few blocks. She found it lovely that everyone walked there together, all dressed in their finest. The sense of community was wonderful.

  Their church was a much grander house of worship than the little place she’d known back home. With its red brick exterior, two stories with stained glass, and white columns out front, it put her in awe as she stood looking up at it. But when she went in, she found the same sense of reverence that she’d known back home. She was glad to find such a familiar feeling in so much that was unfamiliar.

  There were many people to meet, most of whom she remembered seeing the night before…and most of whom had been tipsy. But she was polite, keeping her thoughts to herself.

  As she, Jack and Alice were taking their seats, two more familiar faces came around. Henry and Victoria appeared and sat a few places behind them. Looking at them, she recalled the notion that sinners sometimes got struck down by lightning. And wickedly she thought…

  I’d like to see that for myself.

&nbs
p; Her face flushed with anger, remembering how he’d acted. He deserved to be beaten senseless with a hymnal book. But she knew she was in a sacred place and had to behave. So she just did her best to ignore him.

  But all through the service, she kept feeling his eyes on her. She tried to think of other things…tried to concentrate on a hymn or the reading of a passage. But still now and then she felt his gaze, and for the first time in her life she felt like daring to flee from a church service, just to get away from him.

  When the service was over, there was the familiar ritual of people gathering outside to talk and visit. She watched from the door as Jack and Alice spoke to some of their friends. Not wanting to interfere, she took to walking slowly through the empty sanctuary, enjoying the calm and serenity that a church always gave her. Finding herself near the piano, looking at it for a moment, she could not resist the urge to sit down and play. But it wasn’t a hymn she performed. It was Beethoven’s Pathetique, which Alice had once given her to play. It had become her absolute favorite piece of music. As she played, she lost herself in the beauty of the melody…and was so engrossed that at first, she did not notice a figure approaching. When she realized it was Henry, she chose to ignore him and continue, even though he came right up and stood in front of the piano. Her brain suddenly flashed a memory of a passage from Pride and Prejudice…and with a smirk she quoted it, certain he would not have the slightest idea what she was talking about.

  “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to hear me? But I will not be alarmed. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”