by Emma Evans
“I think you are quite wrong there, Larchmont,” his mother said softly, making him lift his head. “And I think that you need to examine your own heart before you continue on with any of your fine plans.”
“I do not need to examine my own heart, Mother.”
“Because you are simply wonderful friends, is that it? My dear Larchmont, I do not recall the last time I have ever seen you as happy as you are these last few days. You have smiled and laughed and seemed to enjoy life a little more than ever before. When Miss Grace was here for tea, you hung onto her every word, your face lit up every time she smiled at you. There is more than a simple, friendly affection in your heart, Larchmont. I do not know why you won’t at least consider marrying the girl, Larchmont. After all, to marry a close friend is a wonderful start to any marriage, I can assure you—especially when that friendship is already beginning to blossom into something more.”
Stephen stared at his mother, aware of the dull thud of his heart pounding in his ears as he tried to find a way to refute what she had said, only to discover that he could not. There was nothing he could say that would go against his mother’s words.
“You do not need to find out Miss Sarah’s true character in order to shatter the love you think you have in your heart for her,” his mother finished, putting one hand on his arm. “It is already gone and in its place is someone much more worthy than she. You know this, Larchmont. You simply need to accept it.”
Two hours later and Stephen was still unable to get his mother’s voice out of his head, unable to forget what she’d said about Miss Grace. He had come out to Hyde Park, having arranged to meet Miss Grace this afternoon, but had chosen to step out a little early, hoping to clear his thoughts whilst sitting on a bench lit with glorious sunshine.
Miss Grace was, of course, more than her sister could ever be in terms of her interests, her conversation and even what he knew of her character, and yet something was holding him back from examining his heart.
Was it that he was afraid that he would be rejected by Miss Grace? To tell her now that he did wish to court her after all would be both confusing and difficult to explain, although that in itself was no reason to stop him from doing so. However, to look at his heart and consider Miss Grace and a future with her was almost terrifying, given that he’d never truly considered such a thing.
For years, he’d always believed that the angelic Miss Sarah would be his bride and had been caught up in visions and daydreams about such an event. Now, however, when he turned his thoughts in that direction, the only person he saw was Miss Grace. Miss Sarah was no longer present, no longer a part of his dreams for the future.
There was nothing wrong with Miss Grace, he told himself, trying to think calmly. In fact, Miss Grace was a very good choice of companion should he marry, since they got on so well together. They had shared interests, enjoyed good conversation and, should he allow himself to admit it, he would say that he did find her rather beautiful in her own way. She did not have the golden curls of her sister, nor the stunning blue eyes, but Stephen realized that he did not care for that comparison any longer. Miss Grace was precisely the opposite of Miss Sarah in almost every way and it was that fact that made Stephen’s heart open towards her.
“Lord Larchmont!”
He jerked his head up to see Miss Grace coming towards him, just as they had planned.
“Good afternoon, Miss Grace,” he said, getting to his feet and feeling his heart jerk with a sudden bolt of delight on seeing her. “May I say how lovely you look this afternoon?”
Her cheeks flushed pink, her sea-green eyes lit by the sunshine as a few dark brown curls escaped from underneath her bonnet.
“You are very kind to say, Lord Larchmont,” she replied softly. “Thank you for suggesting we take a walk this afternoon. It is a lovely day.”
“And a long time before the ton should arrive,” he chuckled, recalling just how much she disliked being in the midst of society. “By the way, I have a gift for you.”
Her eyes lit up as he handed her a parcel, which she sat down to unwrap at once.
“They are not new books, I confess, but regardless, I thought they might do the trick,” he said, chuckling at her astonished expression. “To further your education on poetry, you see.”
“Oh, Lord Larchmont,” she breathed, putting her hand on his arm as she opened the cover of the first one. “That is very kind of you.”
“They are not new books by any means but have come from my library,” he explained quietly, delighted by her reaction. “Should you like them, then I would be happy to purchase you a brand-new copy.”
She looked up at him, her eyes a little wider than before. “Oh, please do not!” she exclaimed, her hand tightening on his arm. “I confess, I do prefer older books. The feel of the covers, the slightly yellowed pages… it all makes me wonder where they have been before and who else has read them. It gives them a touch of mystery, I suppose.”
Without realizing what he was doing, Stephen placed his hand on top of Miss Grace’s, looking deeply into her eyes and finding himself almost lost within their depths.
“Then I shall not buy you any new books either now or in the future, Miss Grace,” he said, trying to laugh but finding the mirth gone from him, replaced with something a little more serious that he could not quite explain. “Although I do wish to know what you think of these writers. I have my own opinions but I look forward to hearing yours.”
The gentle smile on her face was like a punch to his stomach, making his breath catch and his heart squeeze with a sudden pain that was almost, in its own way, enjoyable. He was nervous and delighted and confused all at once, looking back at Miss Grace and wondering how he would ever do without her.
“Should we walk, Lord Larchmont?” Her voice was soft and quiet, as though she did not want to break the spell that had been cast over them both, filling the air with sparks.
“I think I should like to remain seated with you for a little while longer,” Stephen found himself saying, aware of just how warm her hand was below his. “And you may tell me what you have been reading these last few days and I shall see what I think of it. In fact, I shall be the judge of whether you are allowed to continue in your reading,” he teased, his tone light.
Her smile returned, laughter spilling from her—and Stephen privately thought to himself that he had never seen anyone more beautiful before in his life.
Chapter Ten
One week later
“Are you ready for this evening?”
Turning around, Grace saw her sister come into the room, dressed in one of the most beautiful gowns she had ever seen. No doubt their mother and father had allowed Sarah to buy something extravagant, whereas Grace was not to have as fine a gown as that.
Running her hands down the front of her light blue silk, Grace tried not to allow her self-consciousness to show.
“Yes, I am ready,” she replied calmly, aware of the pearls that were wrapped around her sister’s throat and wondering to herself when she might get an opportunity to wear them. “Is the carriage here?”
Her sister shook her head, rolling her eyes and sighing heavily. “Truly, Grace, do you not recall the arrangements? Lord Wilson is to come here for me in his carriage whilst you are to go with Mama.”
Aware of the slight mockery in her sister’s tone, Grace chose not to rise to it. “Very well.”
“What a shame your Lord Larchmont could not come by for you,” her sister continued, walking towards her with a slightly narrowed gaze. “I do hope he has not lost interest in you.”
Grace lifted her chin, her eyes fixed on her sister. She would not back down. “My relationship with Lord Larchmont is entirely my own business, Sarah.”
Her sister sneered at her, her beautiful features transforming into shards of ugly cruelty.
“He doesn’t care one jot for you, my dear sister, so don’t start getting notions in your head about love and marriage and all that. Those kinds of thin
gs aren’t for the likes of you—second daughters whose beauty is nothing to speak of, whose attributes are so few that there is barely anything to speak of when you are mentioned. Do not think for one moment that there is any kind of future with him for you!”
Grace felt her heart quail, felt her courage begin to die, aware that her sister was doing her utmost to tear every last shred of dignity and self-esteem from her. She was nothing but bones waiting to be picked clean.
And yet, the look on Lord Larchmont’s smiling face from yesterday, as they had walked arm in arm through the park, brought her a slow sense of courage, a deep strength that began to emanate its way through her very bones.
“Lord Larchmont has already spoken of marriage to me, Sarah,” she replied, a little more loudly than she had intended, her voice echoing around the room. “In fact, we spoke of it some weeks ago. So, you see, there is the possibility of a wonderful future with Lord Larchmont despite your eager desire for there not to be.” In truth, she did not know what her future with Lord Larchmont would look like, rather confused as to what she felt and to what she thought he might feel for her in return, but now was not the time to back down. It was best that her sister thought that there was a future for Grace and Lord Larchmont. It might, perhaps, be the impetus she would need to set a wedding date with Lord Wilson.
Her sister paused for a moment, her eyes widening and her jaw going slack.
“Lord Larchmont may have looked at you once, Sarah, but he does not look at you any longer,” Grace whispered, stepping closer to her sister. “He looks at me. He courts me. He talks with me about a great many things. It seems that I will not be the only one considering matrimony very soon.”
She lifted one eyebrow, as though challenging Sarah to refute her words in some way and saw with satisfaction that she could not. Nothing was said, nothing was done. Sarah did not so much as move, although her eyes revealed no anger, only confusion and upset.
Feeling as though she had won a small victory, Grace made to step away from her sister, only for Sarah to grasp her upper arm, hard.
“Get away from me,” Grace spat, wrenching her arm away only for Sarah to grab at her again, her features torn with anger.
“You are to break things off with Lord Larchmont,” her sister spat, thrusting Grace against a wall. “Do you hear me? You are not to have him.”
“And why not?” Grace challenged, aware of her sister’s curled fists. “Because you cannot have him yourself?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Sarah exclaimed, her frame beginning to shake with rage. “I am already betrothed.”
“And yet you want as much of the attention as you can get,” Grace countered, jabbing one finger in her sister’s direction. “I know you hate that your sister is now receiving the attentions of Lord Larchmont in your place, but why should he even consider you now since you are to marry? You may try to flirt with him as much as you like but I know that he does not see you in the same way, and you are just as aware of it as I am.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips curved in a small, triumphant smile. “He sees me now.”
With a scream of rage, Sarah grabbed at Grace with both hands, throwing her back hard against the wall again, knocking the breath from her body. She did not know what was happening, dazed from her sudden shove, only to hear the sound of ripping materials. Her head splintered as Sarah grabbed at it hard, pins scattering around the floor.
A cry of pain tore from her lips as Sarah continued her onslaught, only to step away at the sound of their mother’s horrified exclamation.
“Sarah! Grace! Whatever is the matter?”
Grace, leaning heavily against the wall, looked up at the figure of their mother—tall, slender and with the same coloring as Sarah except for a few patches of white that ran through her hair, giving her an almost regal appearance. She could barely get her breath, feeling the scratches raked across her chest, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in complete disarray.
“Oh, Mama!” she heard Sarah exclaim, sounding almost tearful. “Grace wanted my pearls.”
There was a moment of silence.
“And yet she is the one in pieces and you are standing upright,” came the reply, as a gentle hand helped Grace to stand. “What happened here?”
There was more compassion in her mother’s face and voice than Grace had ever heard before and something in her wanted to weep.
“Grace?” her mother said again, tugging the torn gown over her shoulder again. “What did Sarah do?”
“This,” Grace whispered, surprised to find tears on her cheeks. “She does not want me to continue courting Lord Larchmont.”
Their mother stood tall, one arm encircling Grace’s shoulders. “And why is that, Sarah?”
There came a short, pronounced silence.
“Sarah?”
The gravity in their mother’s voice forced Sarah to speak, and for the first time, Grace realized that her sister was in disfavor with her mother.
“Lord Larchmont does not care for her as he ought,” she wheedled, her hands clasped in front of her. “He was once my suitor and I do not feel it right that he should… ”
“And so you took matters into your own hands,” their mother replied heavily. “My goodness, Sarah, you are getting quite out of control. I was just saying to your father that it is quite ridiculous of you not to set a wedding date. He means to speak to you in the morning about your recent behavior, since you appear to be rather flirtatious with almost every gentleman you meet! It is quite improper and I do fear that perhaps we have favored you for too long.” She turned to Grace, her eyes gentling. “My dear daughter, I am sorry.”
Grace could not speak, looking into her mother’s blue eyes and seeing them filled with grief and a great deal of pain. She could not simply tell her that everything was quite all right, that she had no need to concern herself, for that would not be the truth. She had been wounded by her parents’ lack of concern for her over the years, and the sudden change in attitude had swept her completely off her feet.
“Sarah,” her mother continued, her hand tightening on Grace’s shoulder. “You will wait here until your sister is ready and prepared for the ball. Since we have already accepted the invitation, I will permit you to go but the rest of the week’s engagements will be cancelled in lieu of setting a date for the wedding and beginning the preparations.”
Grace saw her sister’s face go white, although whether it was with anger or upset, she could not be sure.
“In addition, you will leave Lord Larchmont alone entirely and not come near your sister again,” the Viscountess continued. “Else it will be all the worse for you. Your father and I meant to speak to you tomorrow about all this but this evening has just proven to me that you are entirely out of control. It will not be allowed to continue, Sarah. You will watch your tongue and watch your behavior for as long as you are in this house. You are not a married lady yet!”
Sarah began to protest, her eyes swimming with angry tears, but the Viscountess held up one hand, silencing her.
“Now, Grace,” she said softly, turning towards her. “Might you go back to your bedchamber and change? I will send the maid to help you with your scratches and the like and to fix your hair also. Choose another gown from Sarah’s gowns if you wish.” Grace heard Sarah yelp but kept her eyes trained on her mother, hardly able to believe the change in her mother’s attitude towards her. Was it only now, years later, that she was finally able to see how Sarah truly was? Was Sarah’s determination to hinder setting a date for her wedding showing the Viscountess the kind of lady her daughter really was? Or had walking in to see Sarah physically attacking her sister brought their mother’s worst fears to light? Grace did not know whether to be thankful or afraid, worried as to what Sarah might do in retribution.
“Hurry now,” her mother urged, giving her a gentle push towards the door. “We will wait for you, of course. None of this is your fault, Grace. I am only sorry I did not step in before now. It appears the veil has f
inally lifted.”
Chapter Eleven
Stephen cleared his throat, walking into the ballroom and letting his eyes search the crowd for Miss Grace. He had spent the best part of three weeks with her and the enjoyment of her company was growing steadily within him, to the point that he no longer cared about anything to do with Miss Sarah. Miss Grace was the only one he ever thought of. He was finding that he looked forward to his visits to her parents’ townhouse or wherever it was they went, and that they had a good deal in common. He found her conversation witty and, at times, challenging, but every time they talked there was both laughter and smiles, for they never were truly at odds with one another. She was graceful and kind, which merited her all the more given that she found life with her sister to be almost intolerable. Stephen knew that Miss Grace had been the brunt of some rather heated insults from Miss Sarah but admired that she never spoke to him at length about it all. It was as though she wanted him to continue to think well of Miss Sarah, even though he did not even think of her at all any longer.
Reflecting on their last conversation over the poet Keats, Stephen smiled to himself as he recalled how Miss Grace had grown passionate in her defense of him, whilst he played the devil’s advocate. It had not been until near the end of their conversation that he had revealed to her that he was, in fact, an admirer of Keats and she had tried her hardest to lose her temper with him, only to fail miserably by laughing aloud.
It was not a conversation he would have ever considered having with Miss Sarah. She was not a reader, as far as he knew, but then again, he was, by this point, well aware that he did not know very much about the lady at all. It was not an acquaintance he wished to continue or deepen in any way—whereas with Miss Grace, he was finding precisely the opposite. He did want to know everything about her, everything she thought and considered, everything that brought her happiness, everything that brought her pain. Whilst they had been able to converse about a great many things over the last few weeks, the question of what she was really like still remained unanswered.
