by Leenie Brown
Walter chuckled and shifted his gaze to Grace. “I fear Miss Grace would not wish for me to do so, for then she would have to refuse me.”
“Refuse you?” Mrs. King looked at Grace as if there was something wrong with the girl.
“Because a second dance would signify marked attention,” Walter answered. He would like nothing better than to make such a declaration, but he would not push Grace beyond where she had so far willing allowed him to lead her.
“Paw, such nonsense!”
“And, if you would allow me, I should like to request a set of your niece.”
Mrs. King tipped her head and lifted an eyebrow as if she thought it was not at all sensible to be refusing Grace to offer for her niece, who had just joined them.
“Thank you, Mr. Bailey.” Mrs. King’s niece dipped a curtsey as her partner left her with her aunt.
“Annabelle,” Mrs. King began, “I would like you to meet Mr. Blakesley. Mr. Blakesley, this is my niece, Miss Annabelle Chapman.”
“Miss Chapman, it is a pleasure to finally put a face to the name I have heard so many times.”
“Likewise,” Miss Chapman replied with a wide and welcoming smile. She did not seem the sort to be retiring or off-putting. Indeed, she was very pretty and radiated pleasantness.
“Would I be able to convince you, on such short acquaintance, to dance with me?” Walter offered.
Miss Chapman laughed softly. “I believe, Mr. Blakesley, that though we have only just met, we are likely well-acquainted. My aunt is not known for her retiring nature or for her lack of stories to share.”
Mrs. King huffed and clucked her tongue before saying, “Such impertinence!” To which, Miss Chapman’s only reply to her aunt was a smile.
“I would be pleased to dance with you,” she said to Walter.
“Excellent,” Walter answered. “Perhaps you can tell me a few stories about your aunt.”
Again, Mrs. King huffed.
“Miss Grace, I must apologize for not being here earlier.” Norman was straightening a sleeve as he hurried up to them. He opened his mouth to speak but snapped it shut again upon seeing Mrs. King and her niece. Oddly, his friend seemed at a loss for how to proceed. Even more odd was the fact that Mrs. King did not attempt to introduce him to her niece, and that niece seemed to be embarrassed.
Grace gave a quick glance around the group and then, said, “There is nothing to forgive. One cannot schedule emergencies around a dance card.”
“Oh, indeed,” Norman managed to say.
“I am free for this dance,” Grace prompted.
Norman nodded. “That would be wonderful.” He extended his hand to her. “Might we walk a bit before we take our places?”
Grace looked to Graeme, who nodded his consent. Then, she put her hand in Norman’s and rose.
Walter watched Grace leave with his friend.
“They are all wrong for each other,” Mrs. King muttered. “And I have told Miss Grace that very thing.” She took her niece’s hand and winked at her when Annabelle looked her direction. “Mr. Norman, who I have taken on as my physician, requires a different sort of lady, and Miss Grace requires a different sort of gentleman.”
“Mr. Norman is your physician?”
Was there a touch of horror mixed with the surprise in Miss Chapman’s tone?
“Yes, Mr. Blakesley recommended him upon my settling into my house,” Mrs. King replied.
“But—”
Mrs. King shook her head ever so slightly, keeping her niece from saying anything further. “Mr. Norman is excellent at his profession and well-respected.”
“Then, I am happy you have found him.” She turned from her aunt to Walter. “Our set will begin soon.”
“Of course.” Walter offered her his arm and led her onto the dance floor. “Are you well?”
Miss Chapman nodded. “It is nearly overwhelming finding one’s footing in a new town.”
“It can be,” Walter agreed. “Have you found Bath to your liking so far?”
“Oh, yes! It is beautiful, and my aunt is delightful. We have always gotten on exceptionally well.” Miss Chapman leaned a bit closer to him. “She has long been my confidant.” One shoulder lifted and lowered in a shrug. “My mother has more than just me with whom to be concerned. There were six of us. Three boys, and three girls.”
“Six children?” That was a sizable family.
She nodded. “I am the oldest and least likely to marry, so I have been sent to stay with my aunt.”
“Least –?” Walter looked at her in shock unable to complete his question. She did not seem unmarriageable to him.
“My ideas about who would make a good husband do not mesh with those of my father,” she said in explanation. “Therefore, I shall not marry.”
“Oh.” He took his place across from her in line.
“Father is very traditional and unyielding.”
The first notes of the song began, and Walter prepared to remember his steps while attempting not to spend too much time pondering Miss Chapman’s predicament. However, as it turned out, he was not the only curious person in their set who was attempting to put things together.
“I think Mr. Norman knows her,” Grace whispered to Walter when the steps of the song brought them together. “He is very flustered.”
Yes, Walter could see that. Usually, his friend was the picture of serenity. Not much unsettled him, which was a very good quality for a physician to have. Walter hopped from his right foot to his left foot and, taking his partner’s hands, circled.
Miss Chapman smiled at him, and he returned it. She was aptly named for she was indeed a beauty – not in the strict classical sense, but in a fashion which was heightened by her smile and the sparkle in her eye – and belle did mean… He nearly faltered in his steps. Belle. This was Belle. The Belle. The lady whom Norman sought each year to replace and never found any who could take her place.
“He says she is a friend from long ago,” Grace shared with him when once again they were brought together.
“A very good friend, I believe,” Walter replied with a speaking look.
“Oh! Is it a tragic story?” she asked.
Walter only had time to nod before they were separated again. According to Norman, he and Belle had been immediately taken with one another. However, they were never allowed to even converse if it could be prevented. Being young and in love, they attempted at every turn to thwart the intervention of her parents and the brother who was closest to Miss Chapman in age.
It was this brother who had turned Norman away for good. A few well-placed disparaging hints regarding his ability to do his duty as a physician with any degree of skill had made it challenging for him to find a place to practice his profession, and so Norman had left his home county to make a new start of things in Bath.
“Does your brother know that Mr. Norman is your aunt’s physician?” he asked when the song was over and he was leading Miss Chapman back to her aunt.
Her eyes grew wide. “You know about that?”
“Mr. Norman and I are good friends. I put the pieces together. Does he know?”
She shook her head. “My brother died.”
“My condolences.”
“Thank you. It was a year and a half ago now, so the shock of it is gone.”
And his friend was, at least, safe from her brother’s machinations. However, his friend did not know that.
“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Blakesley,” Miss Chapman said as they reached her aunt.
“The pleasure was all mine,” he assured her, and then made his excuses about needing to visit the card room. However, the card room was not where he was truly going. Mr. Norman had left the room, and there was an important bit of information Walter needed to share with him.
Chapter 15
“Come with me.” Felicity took Grace by the arm when Grace’s set of dances had ended and she and Mr. Norman were leaving the floor in the direction of the Claytons and Mrs. King.
> “But Mr. Norman –”
“I have need of my sister’s assistance, Mr. Norman.” Felicity directed one of her most charming smiles at him. It was the one Grace had seen her use many times on various gentlemen to get her way. “You would not keep me from my sister, would you?”
“But…” Grace once again attempted to extract herself from her sister’s grasp. “Bea and Mr. Clayton will be expecting me to return to them.”
“Mr. Norman can relay a message.” Felicity’s eyelashes fluttered as her hold on her sister tightened.
She might feign innocence, but Grace knew better. There was some scheme brewing in her sister’s mind, and it was most likely a scheme in which Grace did not wish to take part. Of course, that would not matter to Felicity. She rarely cared about what Grace did or did not want.
“I will inform them of your being with your sister,” Mr. Norman said quickly.
It was almost as if the man wanted to run from Grace’s presence, but she knew that could not be true. In fact, she suspected that it was the presence of another young lady from which Mr. Norman wished to flee, and Grace had hoped to discover somewhat more about that particular young lady. Being drawn away from her goal by her sister was most distressful.
“What do you want?” Grace demanded as Mr. Norman scurried over to the Claytons. “I have friends with whom I wish to sit.”
“I do not know why you are so disagreeable,” Felicity said as she drew Grace toward the door. “You have been barely civil to me since you went to stay with the Claytons. I am not certain they are the best friends to have if they are going to make you so prickly.”
Grace drew a calming breath through her nose and released it. “Have you ever considered that it is not the influence of my hosts but rather your behaviour which makes me cross?”
“My behaviour?” Felicity questioned with some surprise. “I do not see how I could be the cause of your foul humor.”
“You seriously do not see how?”
“Do keep your voice down, Grace,” Felicity scolded. “Yes, I do not see how I could be the cause.”
Grace knew in these sorts of moments when her displeasure was stirred as it was now that, unless she could bite her tongue hard enough to keep it from wagging, she should turn and walk away. However, what she knew and what she did were not of the same level of wisdom. Frustration at her sister’s behaviour bubbled over as Grace straightened her gloves while attempting to keep her composure. It was the sight of her well-stitched and pretty repair to Felicity’s gloves which overruled her good sense. She drew her sister into the corridor and toward the vestibule of the Assembly rooms instead of allowing herself to be steered to the tearoom.
“Have you no recollection of Mr. Everett Clayton?” Grace hissed as they stepped to the side to avoid walking into a cluster of people.
“Of course, I remember him,” Felicity said. “I truly cared for him.”
“Cared for him?” Grace parroted with no little amount of astonishment. “You flaunted Mr. Ramsey in front of the poor man.”
“I did not flaunt Mr. Ramsey.”
Grace rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her sister was completely lost to all good sense if she could not see such a thing!
“You flaunted. Most distastefully,” Grace retorted. “Do you know why I am wearing these gloves?” Grace thrust her hand in front of her sister’s face.
“Because gloves are the thing.”
“No, because you could not be bothered to repair these, so you cast them aside to your poor sister who did not need them since she was not to have a season. And do you know why your unfortunate sister was not to have a season?” She waited for a full half-second for Felicity to respond before answering in her stead. “Because you flaunted Mr. Ramsey and deserted Mr. Clayton, and now, you are in danger of never being wed if your season is not successful and Mr. Ramsey is led along and then rejected just as Mr. Clayton was.”
Felicity’s mouth, which had gaped during Grace’s diatribe, snapped shut. “I wished to tell you that I think Mr. Ramsey is going to offer for me tomorrow. He has just asked if he could call on me privately, and Father agreed.”
“Oh.” That was not what Grace had expected to hear.
“I love him, Grace.”
Grace’s brow furrowed.
“I know I thought I loved Mr. Clayton, but this time is different.”
“How so? Is it because he has a larger estate?”
Her sister shrugged. “I will not deny that his estate is an inducement to think well of him, although it is not as prosperous as it should be, and my dowry will be needed to make any improvements I should desire.”
“He wishes to marry you for your money?”
Felicity shook her head. “He is not a fortune hunter, for he has been honest with me about the state of his finances. He has even discussed them with Father and taken notes on the advice Father has given him. He loves me, and I love him.”
Grace was not certain her sister knew what love was. “If his estate were to be taken from him, would you still wish to marry him?”
“Yes.”
“If he was told he had to chose between his estate – his future inheritance which would provide for him and his family for generations to come – and marrying you, would you let him choose you to his detriment?”
“Why would I not?” Confusion etched a furrow between her eyebrows.
“You would allow him to do that which would harm him? Do you not care for his happiness?”
“Of course, I care for his happiness, and I know he would not be happy without me. He has said so many times.”
Grace was not convinced. “What if you did not have a sizable dowry? Would he still have chosen you?”
Felicity blinked. “I do not know for certain, but I believe he would have.”
“Ask him.”
The suggestion was met with rolling eyes.
“I would want to know,” Grace added in explanation.
“Do you not trust him?”
“I trust very few.” She trusted Bea and Mr. Clayton, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Shelton, and of course, Mr. Norman and – she nearly sighed – Walter. Perhaps it was more accurate to say she trusted all save her sister and anyone who appeared to love her sister. However, that would be rather rude to say, though the thought was tempting.
“No, you trust everyone,” Felicity countered. “You always have.”
Grace shook her head. “Not any longer.”
“What do you mean?”
“I trusted you. I helped you win Mr. Everett Clayton from Bea when we both knew she liked him. Not that she was the only one who admired him. I told you that I did, do you remember that? And what did you tell me?”
“That I was the oldest and should marry first.”
Grace nodded. “So, I trusted your wisdom and allowed you to pursue Mr. Everett Clayton. No, that is not entirely true, I helped you pursue him. My heart was not attached, but you claimed yours was.” Her lips pursed in displeasure. “As it turns out your attachment was less than mine.”
They had nearly reached the portico and stood just where they could see the entrances for those arriving in carriages. A few people were strolling along the corridors but one couple was not strolling and was instead standing very close to each other. The gentleman looked rather familiar to Grace.
“I thought I was firmly attached to him. Truly, I did,” Felicity was saying just as the gentleman Grace was watching turned enough for her to see his face.
She sucked in a quick breath. “We should return to the ballroom. Mother will worry.” She turned her sister toward the interior of the building.
“I do not believe we have concluded this discussion,” Felicity protested. “I have not finished pleading my case.”
“You cannot convince me of that which I do not wish to be convinced,” Grace retorted.
Felicity pulled away from Grace. “Why do you keep looking down that corridor.”
“For no reason,” Grace lied as she
attempted to turn her sister back toward the interior of the building, but to no avail.
“I love Mr. Blakesley,” she blurted.
That arrested her sister’s motions and spun her around.
“Mr. Blakesley? Truly? Not Mr. Norman?”
“I do not love Mr. Norman. I love Mr. Blakesley – or I am almost certain I do.” Her heart raced. On the list of all the people who were not to know about Mr. Blakesley, her sister sat at the top. She should not have made such an admission, but she also could not allow her sister to see Mr. Ramsey with whomever it was that had her hands on the gentleman’s jacket, straightening the buttons. As much as she did not trust her sister and was excessively unhappy with her for the way she had treated Mr. Everett Clayton, she could not bring herself to knowingly allow her sister to be harmed and humiliated publicly. Oh, she knew some would disagree with her – Roger, for one – but she was just not able to knowingly cause harm to her sister.
Her hand flew to her heart. He was right. Walter was right. She did have a caring heart. She needed to find him and tell him that their charade could come to an end. If he was right about her having a caring heart, he was likely also right about not needing to trust her sister but to only trust him.
“What did Mr. Blakesley talk to you about earlier tonight?” Grace asked.
Felicity blinked. “I will tell you if you will tell me why you have been playing with Mr. Norman’s affections.” She crossed her arms and scowled at Grace. “And all the while you were berating me for how I treated Mr. Everett Clayton, you have been doing no better.”
Grace huffed as she pushed her sister forward and deeper into the building. “About what did you talk to Mr. Blakesley?”
“I attempted to get him to ask me to dance – after I teased him about watching you, that is.” She sighed. “He refused.”
“He did?” Grace smiled. Oh, she had been such a fool to think Walter was the sort to fall for her sister’s charming manners. Of course, he was not the sort! He was not like any other gentleman she had met.
