Grace: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters' Series Book 3)

by Audrey Harrison

  “Do you?” Grace asked, searching her sister’s face for some encouraging sign, but there was none. “I did not mean to fall in love with him; it just seemed to happen.”

  “Fall in love with him?” Rosalind asked in disbelief.

  “Yes,” Grace said with a small smile. “I cannot believe it has taken me so long to tell you. It’s strange; it didn’t start well, but I have never felt as comfortable with someone as I do with him. I know he’s the only man who could make me happy. Although he will get a telling off the next time we speak; he normally has my flowers changed every few days, and I can see those flowers are wilting.” Grace said indicting the wilting vase of Dianthus near her window.

  “He brought flowers to your room?” Rosalind asked in disbelief. The situation had just got substantially worse.

  Grace looked at Rosalind with a frown. “Of course not! He arranged with a maid to change them. He just sent them up as a surprise to start with and then it turned into a regular event. Do you think I would have allowed him in my chamber?” Grace was shocked that her sister would ever consider she would be so foolhardy. She was beginning to realise Rosalind might not be as willing to accept her feelings for Harry as she had hoped.

  “Well no, but I know how feelings can cloud judgement,” Rosalind soothed.

  “I would never do something like that,” Grace said with a flush, remembering the kisses she had shared. “I would like to see Harry, though; I want to thank him and plan our future. I know this is sudden to you, Rosalind, but I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

  “Father would never agree to such a match; you know he wants us to marry titles.”

  “Yes, but you were encouraging Mr Workman,” Grace argued. “If I’d have been in love with him, you would have supported the match; why is this different?”

  “You know it is,” Rosalind soothed. “Mr Workman is a gentleman; Harry is a gardener and won’t ever be anything else.”

  “I wouldn’t want him to be anything else! He is an excellent gardener; Peter told me that almost on my first evening here. Why would I want him to be try and be something he is not?” Grace snapped. Her face full of indignation.

  “Father would refuse to pay your dowry.”

  “I don’t care about that!” Grace snorted. “Harry has the cottage with his employment; that’s all we need.”

  Rosalind looked away from her sister. She had not wished for any part of the conversation to go in the direction it was, but she was going to have to tell Grace what had happened. “Harry no longer lives in the cottage.”

  “Why not? What’s happened?” Grace frowned in confusion; she had been ill for only a day and a half; such changes could not have taken place in such a short space of time.

  “Harry’s actions made it clear to everyone there was some sort of understanding between the two of you. He saved you, but he also knew that, by being so open with his feelings, it could not be borne for him to continue his employment with us. We could not have the staff talking of what had gone on between the pair of you,” Rosalind said evenly.

  “What are you saying Rosalind?”

  Rosalind noted with surprise the tone Grace used. She had never known her sister to sound angry about anything until now. “He has been dismissed.”

  “He’s what?” Grace gasped. She attempted to get up from the bed, but in her weakened state she fell back even before Rosalind reached her to push her back.

  “He was expecting it; Peter has assured him he will give him a reference as an acknowledgement and a thank you for what he did for you,” Rosalind said defensively.

  “So, if he had left me to die, he would have protected himself, his home and his job, but because he acted quickly, he has been dismissed. He has lost everything because of me,” Grace said with a sob.

  “He knew being with you was risking his livelihood.”

  “This is the only home he has ever known!” Grace cried, tears falling down her face, her expression contorted in pain. “I have ruined him!”

  “You have not!” Rosalind countered. “He was the adult; he should have had more control.”

  Grace flung back the bedcovers and stormed out of bed, all weakness gone. “I threw myself at him; he tried to push me away time and again! He avoided me! He was rude to me! All in an effort to stop me pursuing him, but I persisted! He was the only person who has ever listened to me or cared about my opinion; he didn’t want me to have anyone’s censure: he always put me first, and his reward has been his dismissal!”

  “Grace, calm yourself!” Rosalind pleaded. “We have all cared about you and listened to you; why do you think we haven’t?”

  “Even you didn’t, Rosalind,” Grace said, sliding down the wall, her legs too weak to hold her once the burst of anger eased. The tears flowed down her cheeks unchecked her distress was so great. “You asked me about the gardens and the plants, but nothing more. You promised we would not be forced into marriage like you were, but when I made a choice, you dismissed it. You don’t think I’m capable of making my own decisions when most girls my age are married. I couldn’t possibly know what I want, could I?”

  “You are still young, Grace: this is your first taste of love; there will be others who will capture your heart,” Rosalind said quietly.

  Grace put her head in her hands. “You still aren’t listening, Rosalind; You. Still. Aren’t. Listening!”

  “Please come back to bed; you have been through enough.”

  “I want you to leave, Rosalind, and I don’t want you to come again,” Grace said bleakly, remaining in the same position.

  “But….” Rosalind started.

  “LEAVE ME BE! Is that clear enough for you?” Grace shouted.

  Rosalind jumped to her feet, distressed to see her sister in such a state, but knowing that remaining would only cause more upset. She left the room, closing the door behind her. She rested her head on the wood, welcoming its coolness, but her respite was short lived; the sobs of her sister through the closed door would resound in her ears long into the night.

  Chapter 13

  Grace locked her door when she had the strength to move from the chamber floor. She crawled onto the four-poster bed and wrapped herself in the blankets. Her sense of desolation almost took her breath away. Rosalind had been correct; her feelings for Harry had been the first feelings of love she ever experienced, but she knew by instinct they were the sort of feelings to last a lifetime. She had destroyed everything for Harry, and there was no way of repairing it. He was gone, and she was not sure how the world was ever going to be right again.

  Rosalind knocked gently on the chamber door early the following morning. She had been told by Grace’s maid Grace would not allow anyone entry to her bedchamber and was refusing food. Rosalind had risen immediately and followed the maid to the door. She had dismissed the worried member of staff; she did not want them knowing what words were being exchanged between the siblings.

  “Grace, may I come in?” she asked gently.

  “No, I told you to leave me alone; nothing has changed!” came the muffled reply.

  “Grace, please. We need to talk about this.”

  “Where is Harry?”

  “I have no idea,” Rosalind answered honestly.

  “Then there is nothing to talk about.”

  Rosalind underwent morning visits with a painful headache. She had never known Grace to be anything but pleasant and happy. She wanted to help her sister return to the lovely young woman she was but had no idea how to achieve it.

  Mr Workman was announced. His arrival was not unexpected, but Rosalind would have preferred not to have to face him so soon. He bowed before taking a seat.

  “How is Miss Johnson?” Mr Workman asked immediately.

  “She is recovered,” Rosalind replied. Grace was suffering no after effects from the berries, but she did not wish to go into details about anything else. “We are encouraging her to take things a little easier at the moment, hoping there won’t be any rel
apse,” Rosalind explained away the absence of Grace.

  “I beg your forgiveness for my stupidity,” Mr Workman said seriously. “I had no idea the berries were anything but the ones I have eaten a dozen times before. The plant and all its roots have been burned; the under-gardener made a thorough job of destroying everything.”

  “It was an unfortunate accident,” Rosalind said reassuringly. She liked Mr Workman and had hoped her sister would make a match with him; he was, by far, the most suitable gentleman for Grace in the area. In her own mind she had consoled herself to the fact that a few years abroad would then see Grace settling somewhere near Sudworth Hall—a thought that had made the match even more favourable with her.

  “An accident we are lucky did not have a different outcome,” Mr Workman replied.

  The pair were interrupted by the arrival of Mrs Adams. After their ‘good mornings’ Mrs Adams looked at Mr Workman. “You seem to be suffering no side effects from the other day,” she said.

  “Outwardly, no,” Mr Workman responded. “Although I think it will haunt my dreams for a long time to come.”

  Mrs Adams nodded, as if she approved of the comment and said nothing further. Mr Workman shifted in his chair, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “Your Grace, I am sorry Miss Johnson is not available to take visitors; I am to leave the area later today, and I had hoped to offer my apologies to her in person.”

  Both women looked at the young man in surprise; there had been no hint his removal from the area was imminent. “Oh, where are you going?” Rosalind asked, her disappointment clear in her voice.

  “I have delayed my trip to Liverpool and onwards to the Americas, but I think it is time I left,” Mr Workman said, not quite meeting Rosalind’s eye. He had hankered for affection from Grace, but the feelings of remorse at what had happened had extinguished any feelings of preference he had held towards her. Selfishly, he wanted removal from the area.

  “I see; well, I wish you a safe passage and much success in your venture. I do hope we see you at some time in the future. Have you any idea how long you will be away?”

  “Not at the moment,” Mr Workman responded. “I expect it to be a number of years. When I return I intend to set up an establishment in the North East; it is where my family are from, most still residing there.”

  Rosalind sighed; in other words, he would not be proposing to Grace. His words also showed she had been wrong in her hope he would settle in the area on his return. “I wish you well, Mr Workman, and I’ll be happy to pass on your apologies to my sister, although it is unnecessary; she holds you no ill will.”

  “I’m thankful: she made my time here all the more pleasant; I do wish circumstances were different,” Mr Workman said, standing. “I hope our paths cross in the future, ladies.”

  Both ladies said their farewells and then returned to their seats. Rosalind busied herself pouring fresh tea while Mrs Adams watched her closely. “You wanted your sister to marry that young man,” Mrs Adams said, accepting the tea from her host.

  “I did, for foolish reasons that have proved unfounded,” Rosalind acknowledged.

  “Was Grace fond of him?”

  “She liked him, but I don’t think she was anyway falling in love with him, although given time it could have happened,” Rosalind replied. “It would have been a good match for both of them.”

  “I thought you all had to marry titles?”

  “I think father would have come round to the idea, particularly as Mr Workman was a successful businessman. Father would always be more sympathetic to one in trade.” She chose not to mention the change of heart her father had experienced with the introduction of Mr Wadeson into the list of who should be considered for marriage. It did not reflect well on her parent, and Rosalind did not wish to see censure in Mrs Adams; she was feeling vulnerable since Grace’s condemnation.

  “You always said you would not matchmake after your own experience,” Mrs Adams said quietly.

  “I know, but sometimes Grace needs a little guidance.”

  Mrs Adams raised her eyebrows at Rosalind. “I’m sure I can imagine your response to anyone daring to utter such sentiments about you; it’s hardly fair to say it about one of your sisters.”

  “Grace’s nature is quiet and withdrawn; she would probably never make a suitable match if it were left to her. Of course, she wouldn’t be forced into a marriage, but I think she would appreciate the benefit of my judgement.” Rosalind was not wholly convinced Grace would share her sentiments anymore although, before Harry’s influence, she was sure Grace would have done exactly what Rosalind would have suggested. Rosalind sighed: she was not sure if she was trying to convince Mrs Adams or herself with her words; after all, Grace had expressed quite strongly her feelings about the way Rosalind had dealt with Harry—something she had never done before.

  “I’ve always found there is a fine line between offering advice and interfering,” Mrs Adams said sagely.

  Rosalind changed the subject and invited Annie to join the ladies as she did most days. Mrs Adams’s words had a ring of truth about them Rosalind did not wish to explore at the moment.

  *

  When Rosalind received a firm refusal for entry again into Grace’s bedchamber later in the day, she decided to seek the counsel of her husband. For the first time in her life, she felt completely at a loss as to what to do. She found Peter in his study.

  Peter smiled at Rosalind’s entrance. He would never forget how lucky he was in his wife, and the sight of her now, with the sign of her swelling stomach under her gown, made him even more thankful they had been forced into marriage. With the recent troubles aside, he had never been happier.

  Rosalind bent and kissed her husband before taking a seat opposite him with a sigh.

  “What is troubling you?” Peter asked, leaning back in his seat.

  Rosalind hated having to admit defeat, but she did not know what else to do. “Grace will not allow anyone in her room; she is not eating or drinking. Her maid can hear her crying through the door. Apart from knocking the door down, I can’t think of anything else to do!” Rosalind said in frustration.

  “She’s not eating or drinking?” Peter asked with a frown.

  “No. I’m worried. With the effects of the poison, she’s already weakened; I can’t stand by thinking she’s wasting away because of a gardener!”

  Peter raised his brows; it was not like Rosalind to be so harsh on a member of staff. “He’s a good man,” he said gently.

  Rosalind sighed again, “I know, but why did he have to turn Grace’s head in such a way?”

  “That does not matter now; what matters is convincing Grace she needs to eat.”

  Peter’s words were interrupted by the entrance of Isabella. “I’m leaving!” she said dramatically as she entered the room, ignoring the fact there was already a conversation going on.

  “I beg your pardon?” Peter asked.

  “I am leaving! You will not acknowledge Roberto as the rightful heir, so I return to Italy!”

  “Isabella, we need to talk about this, but now is not the appropriate time; Grace is not well. Would you not make any hasty decisions for a few days, please?” Peter asked reasonably.

  “Pah! Not well! See you are full of lies! Everyone knows she is suffering from a broken heart. You send the gardener away; she is ill. I am no fool!” Isabella spat.

  “My sister ate some poisonous grapes; that is the truth of the matter!” Rosalind snapped.

  “Yes, but who saved her? He who was cast off the same night. I repeat: I am no fool; neither are your staff,” Isabella said smugly. “If you expect me to wait around until you decide you have had enough of me, I will not.”

  “We would never do that,” Peter said quietly. “Roberto belongs to our family.”

  “So does Grace, but the maids say she is dying of a broken heart,” Isabella said dramatically.

  “I can’t stand to listen to this,” Rosalind said rising from her seat. “My sister is ill, and you
are using it to your advantage. Have you no shame?”

  “I have been ill used since my arrival!” Isabella retorted, looking in disgust at Rosalind.

  “Yes, you have, haven’t you?” Rosalind said sarcastically. “We welcomed you into our home, provided a house, food and clothing whilst covering all your expenses while we spent time and money proving that you were a liar. Shame on you, Isabella for repaying our kindness in such a way and then topping it all by accusing us of using you ill!”

  “I was owed much more! Robert took advantage of me,” Isabella responded, but she was looking more wary. It was the first time she had been treated with anything but kindness. She was aware she might have pushed her hosts too far.

  “He took advantage of everyone he met!” Rosalind snapped. “You were fool enough to believe his shallow words. It is not our fault you gave yourself to him before he committed to you. Both of you were selfish in your actions, and now Roberto will suffer for the rest of his life as a consequence.”

  Isabella burst into tears. They were loud sobs. “I don’t know what to do!” she wailed. “I want to go home, but I will be penniless there.”

  Peter took a breath; they had reached the real reason for her dramatic entrance: she wanted money. It was annoying that she had increased Rosalind’s distress in her efforts; he would have preferred for her just to be honest in the first instance.

  “How much do you need?” Peter asked quietly.

  “I need my travel and a home and clothing for Roberto. He should have a standard of living suitable to his rank.”

  “Don’t push me Isabella,” Peter said firmly. “You will receive travel costs and a monthly allowance for Roberto to live on. I am not a fool and won’t be taken as one.”

  “You should provide for Roberto!” Isabella exclaimed.

  “And I will or you could leave him with us, and we shall take full responsibility for him,” Peter countered.

  Isabella gasped in shock. “No! He is my son!”

  “More like he is your bargaining tool against us,” Peter said seriously. “Isabella, I will give you what we provide to Robert’s other child,” Peter said firmly. “I am not willing to spend more. I don’t see why my wife’s money should be constantly spent on my dead brother’s bastards.”