by Leenie Brown
Their mother scowled. “One does not select gentlemen for the sole purpose of refusing them or increasing one’s appeal to others.”
Grace blinked. “Oh, I thought we did.” She fluttered her lashes at Felicity, who scowled.
“I did not select Mr. Everett Clayton for such a reason,” Felicity whispered. “I am certain I would have been quite happy to be Mrs. Everett Clayton had I not met my dear Mr. Ramsey.”
“Hmmm.” Grace pretended to consider her sister’s words. “Then, I suppose, I shall have to spend the rest of the night considering if I would be happy to be Mrs. Norman since I have given the gentleman permission to call on me.”
“Truly, Grace,” Felicity scoffed, “you are such a simpleton. Have you not learned anything from school or me about securing a good match?”
“Apparently, not. Though I thought I had.” She felt the smile she wore down to her toes. Pretending to be interested in Mr. Norman and provoking her sister was delightfully amusing.
~*~*~
“Why did your mother caution me about allowing Mr. Norman to call on you?” Graeme asked as he settled into the carriage later that night.
“Is Mr. Norman calling on you?” Mr. Shelton asked in surprise from the bench across from where Grace sat next to Bea.
“He most certainly is if he can find the time in his schedule,” Grace replied. “It is only polite to do so, you know. He did dance with me after all.”
“Because you asked him to,” Roger returned.
“No, I only said I hoped he would ask me. I did not ask him. The two are very different things.”
“I am not certain my sister would agree,” Roger said.
Grace could hear the scowl in his words. Her plans had not included angering her friends.
“It was necessary,” she said softly. “Your sister is all that is good. Mine is quite the opposite.”
“I will not argue that,” Roger assured her in a more friendly tone.
“Why just imagine if Felicity thought I found Mr. Blakesley attractive. I just know she would try to snatch him away since that is what she did with Mr. Everett Clayton and Mr. Ramsey.”
“Mr. Ramsey, too?” Bea asked in surprise.
Grace nodded. “But Felicity will not bother attempting to snatch away a gentleman who is a physician, even if he has lovely brown eyes and can dance better than anyone I have met. He would be too far beneath her notice.” She smiled, still rather amused with herself.
“She also thinks such a gentleman should be beneath my notice.” She looked around Bea to Graeme. “As does my mother, which is why she has cautioned you. However, you need not worry. I have no intention of entertaining the idea of becoming Mrs. Norman, and Mr. Norman knows he is only calling on me as a ruse. Everything is perfectly well.”
She leaned back against the squabs before popping forward again. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Felicity is sending me a dress and my mother is including some lace and ribbon. It is the dress she was wearing tonight. The very one which was originally ordered for me before Mama decided we must put all our efforts toward Felicity’s happy future.”
Victoria Shelton laughed softly. “She is sending you your dress?”
“Yes. She has worn it three times and simply cannot be seen in it again.” Grace sighed. Sadness washed over her. “Dresses, gentlemen, it seems it is all the same to my sister. What I am supposed to have or what I like must be hers. She really is a selfish creature. I only wish I had come to that realization sooner.”
“Just because she is selfish now, does not mean she will always be so.” Bea’s voice was soft and soothing.
“Perhaps,” Grace agreed. “I cannot believe I spent so many years trying to be just like her. Oh! The unpleasantness of which I have been an unwitting part! It is most shameful to consider. We were not at all nice to you, Bea. I am most grievously sorry for my part in that. Mr. Everett Clayton would have done better–”
“No, he would not have,” Graeme interrupted forcefully. “My brother is an idiot. He always has been. While the fault in his unhappiness rests in a large part on your sister’s behaviour, he is not blameless. He was led astray by a pretty face and a lively spirit, but he did not go unwillingly. And, while I harbour some ill-feelings toward your sister for the way in which she treated him at the house party, I am not sorry Everett is a daft fool, for it did result in my finding the most perfect bride.” He lifted Bea’s hand and kissed it.
Grace sighed. “I hope one day to be as happy as you all are.”
“You will be,” Roger assured her. “I shall see to it.”
He was a good friend!
“While you are seeing to it,” she said after thanking Roger for his concern, “could you do so in such a fashion that my sister will not know?”
“I am not certain how that is possible,” Roger replied.
“We could have a dinner party,” Graeme cried. “Your sister would not be at a dinner party, for I would not invite her.”
Across from her, Roger nodded his head. “That is an excellent idea.”
“Just a small one,” Bea begged.
“Yes, yes, nothing too large, my love,” Graeme assured her.
“And if I am seen with several gentlemen and not just one in particular –”
“Your sister would think you were not serious about any of them,” Roger concluded Grace’s thought.
“But what do we do if one gentleman, in particular, catches Grace’s fancy and wishes to court her?” Victoria asked. “Will he not be put out by all the other swains buzzing about his prize? How is that any different from what Miss Love was doing at the Abernathy’s house party?”
“That is simple,” Roger answered. “By then, the said gentleman will be so far under Grace’s spell that not even her trollop of a sister could pry him away from her.” He shrugged. “Besides, maybe by then Ramsey will have gained Miss Love’s promise or forced her hand.”
No, Grace thought as Mr. and Mrs. Shelton continued to argue over whether it was polite to say such a thing about Mr. Ramsey’s intentions, the difference was that the gentleman she fancied would never be amongst the hopeful swains. At least, he would not be if Mr. Norman played his part well.
Chapter 6
This was foolish.
Walter glanced toward Erondale and then looked at his watch before tucking it back into the pocket of his waistcoat. It was five minutes past the time Mr. Norman had said to be exactly where Walter was. If he was not such a curious sort of fellow, he would have told his friend that there was no way he was taking part in a scheme to meet a lady in such a clandestine fashion. Curiosity he had in great quantity. Patience was in shorter supply in normal circumstances and in extreme want when his curiosity had been excited.
He punched the rug which was wrapped around the tree next to him. If he was to be left standing like a fool in an orchard, he might as well get some benefit from it even if a cravat and waistcoat were not a usual part of his exercise costume. He sighed and hit the tree again before bobbing to the side as if the tree had thrown a punch in return.
Blowing out a breath, he gave Erondale one last glance before turning his focus to punishing the rug and tree and attempting to ignore the prick of impatience which taunted him to satiate his curiosity without waiting a moment longer.
For three jabs and just as many bobs to the side, Walter ignored the pleas of impatience. However, its demands could not be pushed to the side for longer than that. Therefore, after just three punches to the tree, he stopped and donned his jacket.
This was foolishness. He had waited at the spot as required for a quarter of an hour now, and Grace had not met him here as she said she would.
He was going to Erondale. It was his property after all, and those within its walls were his tenants. There was nothing to keep him from calling on them, and it was not as if it was an exceptionally warm day. The breeze had a bitterness to it despite the sky being nearly free from clouds, and he could not just wait under a tree forever.
A quarter of an hour and two days was a long enough wait to find out who the mysterious Grace Love was. Her secret smile had taunted and tantalized him since he first saw it in the park. He would be put off no longer. And so, he urged his horse to traverse the short distance between orchard and house as swiftly as possible.
“Why are you here?” Mr. Norman whispered to Walter when Walter took a seat next to him in the sitting room at Erondale.
“You were late.”
“It could not be helped,” Norman returned.
“So could not my arrival here.” He turned a smile on his hosts who were looking at the two gentlemen curiously. “I beg your indulgence of my poor manners. My friend is somewhat startled to see me as I was supposed to have been engaged elsewhere. However, plans change.”
“I hope it was not anything unpleasant which caused your change in plans.” Grace was looking at him with concern.
“A prodigious lack of patience,” Mr. Norman muttered.
Walter chuckled. “My friend is correct. I seem to be incapable of waiting very long for anything.” He looked pointedly at Grace. “Especially if the longed-for item is of great intrigue.”
“Oh!” she said with a small gasp and then a smile. “I could not agree more, Mr. Blakesley. I, myself, am frightfully impatient at times when I am anxious for something to happen or a journey to start.”
“Miss Grace and I were about to take a drive.” Norman lifted an eyebrow as he gave Walter a look of pure displeasure.
If Grace were a spinster, Walter might have been concerned by such a glare. However, he knew that Miss Grace was far too young to meet his friend’s requirements for a lady. He also knew that his friend was only playing a part and the lovely lady who was supposed to take a drive with Norman was not actually interested in Norman at all but was rather intrigued by Walter, himself. Such knowledge gave him a great deal more confidence today than he had had last night when Grace had refused him in preference for his friend.
“Well, do not let me keep you from it.” Walter waved his hand toward the door.
“We cannot leave now!” Grace cried.
“And why is that?” Mr. Shelton, who was settled very cozily on a settee next to his wife, was smirking at Walter.
If anyone was to figure out that a game was afoot first, it would be a master of games such as Shelton. Of course, he might just be enjoying the prospect of two gents having a tiff over a pretty lady.
“A guest has just arrived, of course,” Grace replied.
“But will not Mr. Norman feel…” Shelton furrowed his brow, “how shall I say this? Put out? Perhaps that is it. Will not Mr. Norman feel put out to be made to wait to take you on a drive?”
Grace’s mouth popped open but then closed just as quickly, and for the first time since Walter had seen her in the park two days ago, the lady looked befuddled. She had been frustrated and annoyed at the Assembly Rooms when questioned about her desire to dance with Mr. Norman, but she had not looked perplexed as she did now.
She turned wide eyes to Norman. “Will you?”
Norman sighed and shook his head. “Not overly much.”
“Mr. Norman likes to keep to a schedule, you see,” Walter added.
Grace’s head bobbed up and down, though her puzzled expression had not left her face. “But I should not like to be the cause of disappointment.”
Walter believed every word of that for she looked rather grieved at the thought.
“I truly did not think you would be put out at all,” she added as she reached down to pick up the orange ball of fur at her feet. “I am not very good at this,” she muttered as she stroked the cat she now held.
Between her look of sorrow and Norman’s look of concern, Walter was beginning to curse his impatience.
“Would you like to walk in the garden instead?” Mrs. Clayton asked. “It is not a drive, but it is a change of place.”
Norman shook his head. “I am well. Thank you.”
“Are you certain?” Grace asked.
“Yes, I am just sorry –” He did not finish his sentence but shifted his eyes from her to Walter.
Grace sighed. “This is foolish, and precisely why these sorts of things should not be attempted. Is that not right, Philomena?” The cat meowed at her mistress as if it had understood the question.
“Perhaps you could explain what is foolish.” Mr. Clayton was looking for all the world like a displeased and suspicious father or older brother. If it were not for the fact that he was part of the reason for that particular expression on his friend’s face, Walter might have chuckled at seeing someone of Graeme’s reputation – at least, what it was in college – looking as he did.
“I can explain part,” Walter offered.
Graeme’s eyes narrowed as he turned them towards Walter.
“At her request, given to me by Mr. Norman, I was to meet Miss Grace in the orchard three-quarters of an hour ago,” he snapped his watch closed.
Graeme had now crossed his arms and was looking at Grace with raised brows.
“I only wished to meet him without anyone knowing.” Grace leaned forward and whispered, “He is very handsome,” to Graeme, which caused Roger to chuckle and Graeme’s brow to furrow while Walter could only smile. It was not so dreadful a thing to be called handsome by an intriguing lady like Grace.
“Why could you not meet him here?” Mrs. Shelton asked, and then closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Are you well?” Roger sat forward and looked at his wife.
She shook her head once again and, rising quickly left the room in great haste, followed by her husband.
“Oh, goodness!” Grace cried. “Have I caused her to be ill?”
Mr. Norman shook his head. “It is not you.”
“How do you know?” Grace demanded.
“I am a physician and privy to details others might not know.”
“What do you mean?” Grace asked.
“I cannot say. I just know that you are not the cause of her illness.”
Walter nodded and settled back in his chair. “A bit of tea and toast might help.”
“How do you know that?” Grace cried. “You are not a physician.”
Graeme shook his head and chuckled. “Blakesley has an annoying habit of knowing more than he should.”
“I am very confused,” Grace said. And she looked it.
For all her alluring and secretive actions, Miss Grace Love appeared to be an innocent.
“While we wait for Roger and Victoria to return,” Mrs. Clayton said, “perhaps we can hear Grace’s reason for arranging a secret meeting with Mr. Blakesley?”
Grace’s cheeks flushed very prettily as she ducked her head. “I wished to see if he might wish to be…” she peeked at him, “my secret beau.”
“Explain,” Graeme demanded.
“I had hoped that we might get to know one another without anyone, most especially my sister, knowing.”
“Why?” Walter asked.
“She is horrid,” Norman answered for Grace. “That is what I was told,” he added, holding up his hands in defense against Walter’s shocked expression.
Grace nodded in agreement. “She will attempt to steal you from me. She has done it twice in the last year.”
Walter tipped his head and studied Grace. Her hands were busy stroking her cat, but her eyes spoke of the truth of her fear. “Twice, you say?”
She nodded.
Apparently, it was not just gloves and gowns that Miss Love dangled over her sister then.
“Why me?”
Grace shrugged. “You returned my smile in the park.”
A returned smile? That was her reason for selecting him? That seemed a rather foolish way to select a suitor
.
She ducked her head again. “And you are handsome.”
Well, that did make some sense, he supposed. “You know nothing about me. I could be an adventurer who would only toy with your heart.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Are you?”
“No,” Graeme answered. “At least, he was not when I knew him in college.”
Grace smiled. “I thought from speaking with Mr. Norman that you could not be a scoundrel, for Mr. Norman does not seem the sort to keep company with such people.”
“I agreed to meet with you in secret,” he cautioned.
“Yes, I have not forgotten that,” Graeme grumbled.
“You would not do me harm with Mr. Norman at my side,” Grace protested.
“Norman could be a murderer cleverly disguised as a physician. Who would suspect him of such gruesome acts when he is pledged to heal and not harm?” Walter was not sure why he was taking so much pleasure in attempting to dissuade Grace from thinking of him as an upstanding individual who posed little risk to a beautiful young woman. He was, of course, honorable, but she could not have known that from a smile in a garden.
“You are not, are you?” she asked Mr. Norman.
“Would he tell you if he was?” Walter countered.
She looked positively ill as she shook her head. He should stop.
“He is not. At least, as far as I know, he is not, and he has had ample opportunities to do me harm and as you can see, I am well.”
Her hand was resting on her heart. “But you are not a lady,” she whispered.
“Oh, for the love of all that is good!” Mr. Norman cried. “I am not a murderer! If I were, I would be far more likely to harm Blakesley than anyone else after being treated as I have been today.”
Walter laughed. “I apologize, Norman. You are the least likely to do harm to another. Other than to make them drink some horrid concoction designed to improve their health.”
“But that is just the sort of person who would be a murderer in a novel,” Grace whispered. Her hand was still on her heart, and she was still looking a trifle ill.
“We do not live in a novel,” he assured her.
“But do you not think that the ideas found in a novel might have their roots in reality?” she asked in all seriousness.
