by Leenie Brown
“Excessively,” Norman agreed. “I do not carry it myself, but I am often privy to a great many interesting tidbits.” He blew out a breath. “If there is one festering pustule that I would like to see eradicated, it would be the wagging tongue. Far too much damage can be done by one exposure to it. However, to this point, no one has discovered a tincture, tonic, or extraction procedure to rid society of the dread disease.”
He was, of course, speaking from experience – grievously miserable experience. It almost made it understandable that the man would not wish to risk another exposure to such ruinous viciousness again even for a chance to gain the lady he loved.
Walter jumped down from the gig and waited for Norman to join him before proceeding to Erondale’s door.
“We have been waiting for you,” Roger said as he opened the door.
Where was the butler? Walter peeked behind Roger and saw Graeme.
“Is something amiss?”
Roger’s grimace was enough of an answer to set Walter’s heart racing.
“What is it?” he asked as he stepped inside the house.
“This.” Roger held out a letter. “I told her that I would see you received it.”
Her? With great trepidation, he took the missive from Roger. On the front was his name, very prettily written with a feminine flourish.
“Come. Have a seat before you read it,” Graeme suggested.
“Is she gone?”
Graeme’s nodded. “Have a seat. Read the letter. And then, we can tell you what we know.”
Walter shook his head. “Where did she go?”
“Home,” Roger answered.
“How long ago?”
“It was about seven this morning when they left.”
Walter turned toward the door. “There is still daylight.” He could cover a good bit of ground before it was dark if he left now. He might even be able to overtake them on the road if he travelled through the night.
Graeme grabbed his arm and steered him into the sitting room. “Did you discover anything about Ramsey?”
Walter shook his head. Why did they want to know that now? There were more pressing matters needing attention. The woman whom he loved and who had said she loved him had left, and he needed to be away.
“Blakesley,” Norman said, “please, take a seat.”
“But Grace –”
“Left you a missive she wishes for you to read,” Mrs. Clayton inserted. “There were a good number of tears that went into its writing. It would be a shame not to read it.”
“And you cannot leave until you know where to look,” Roger added when Walter hesitated and looked once more toward the door.
That was true.
“And we will not tell you that bit of information until you have had the rest of it.”
Walter scowled at Roger and, then, took a seat as close to the door as possible. “Tell me what I need to know.”
“Ramsey has left Bath,” Graeme said.
“I know that. I followed him as far as I could.”
“Did you know that Miss Love sneaked out of her house to go see Ramsey?” Graeme asked.
Walter’s brow knit. “How would I know that?” He unfolded the letter he had been given. His curiosity would wait no longer to be satiated.
“You would not unless we told you, which is why you need to take a moment before running after Grace,” Roger said. “We are not attempting to keep you from her.”
Walter sank back in his chair as he read what Grace had written. “She meant to break off with me?”
“No,” Mrs. Clayton said quietly. “She thought she was doing the proper thing.”
Walter looked at her in confusion. “How is it the proper thing?”
Mrs. Clayton glanced at her companions. “Her sister might be with child.”
“Ramsey’s child?” Only Graeme did not look as surprised as Walter was at the news.
Mrs. Clayton nodded. “Why would any gentleman such as yourself wish to be tainted by such a scandal as Felicity has created?”
“Because he loves Felicity’s sister.”
Mrs. Clayton nodded again. “Love is also Grace’s reason, for because she loves you so much, she could not fathom allowing you to be discredited or harmed in any way.”
“But her leaving me is the harm,” Walter protested. A few whispers were nothing to him. It was not as if he had gotten Miss Love with child. That was Ramsey’s cross to bear. “I will not allow her sister to take yet another gentleman from her – especially not one who loves her as fiercely as I do.” He rose. “I need to know where I am going.”
Chapter 19
Chickens fluttered their wings and squawked in the small patch of fenced-in garden next to a hen house while shouts from one servant to another lifted above the clatter of the courtyard below. Grace sighed and rested her head against the back of the rocker she had drawn from the corner of the room to the window.
It was lovely to be off the road again, and this inn was a touch nicer than yesterday’s, but none of that truly soothed her as it would have on her trip to Bath. Several days on the road when anticipating adventure were much easier to endure than the same number of days spent travelling while one’s heart was breaking.
She closed her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away quickly.
“Are you still so disappointed?” her mother asked from where she sat at a table with her needlework spread out. Felicity was flopped across the bed, and their father was below stairs, likely talking with some gentlemen at the bar.
Grace shrugged and nodded. She did not want to speak about it. She wanted to be miserable and alone. However, as it was, she was only allowed to be miserable. One was never alone when travelling for one was either in a carriage with her family or in a rented room with at least a sister.
She turned her head to the right until she could just see Felicity. She felt dreadful for her sister, of course, but she also could not bring herself to the point of completely forgiving her for her stupidity. Sneaking out to kiss a gentleman in a garden was one thing. Sneaking out to allow him to take you to bed was another altogether. It really did not matter to Grace how much her sister protested that Mr. Ramsey had proclaimed his love for her or how he had spoken of marrying. It was foolish. She would never sneak out to visit Walter at his home in such a fashion. Not even if she enjoyed his kisses and caresses — which she would never know as he had never kissed her.
She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to be held by him as she had been at his townhouse with his strong arms encircling her while she rested against his firm chest.
Another tear slid down her cheek. How she missed him!
“We will have to begin planning for your season as soon as… well… soon.” Her mother smiled tightly. What was to become of Felicity had been a topic of discussion today in the carriage. If all was well — meaning she was not with child –it might be reasonable to allow her to participate in some of the season’s activities. Their mother was certain that some gentleman would be willing to take her on. There was no way for a gentleman to know that she was not a maiden as long as gossip did not follow her.
That was the biggest concern, for it seemed Felicity was incapable of not being followed by gossip. And if it did not follow her, she seemed to create it wherever she was. At school, she had been the topic of several stories that had circulated. Those had been mostly innocent. Miss Amelia Abernathy was a great lover of posing dares, and Felicity was all too willing to prove herself as fearless. However, those dares had been just for fun. Nothing more than a day or two of discipline by the headmistress had been at stake.
“I do not want a season,” Grace said.
“Not want a season? That cannot be. You will miss your friends for now, but, in a few months, you will forget the time with them which you were made to miss and will be eager to be on your way once again.”
Grace shook her head. “I shall never forget.” There was so much to miss!
<
br /> Bea and Victoria had not yet told anyone else about their babies. Only Grace had been privy to their conversations about becoming mothers. Only she had heard their excitement and apprehension. She would miss that. It would not happen again.
And then, there was Walter. She did not need a season, for she had no heart left to give to any gentleman. Ever. She had not lied when she had written to him that her heart would never forget him. She sighed. Being in love was not so amusing as she had expected it to be. It was dashed hard to not put her own desires ahead of what would be best for him.
And that was why she was having a horrid time of forgiving her sister.
Her mother looked up from her work as she pulled her needle through the fabric. “You are not pining over Mr. Norman, are you?” There was a hint of a scold in her tone. “There will be far better choices in town next year.”
“She does not love Mr. Norman,” Felicity said from the bed.
Oh, dear! She had thought Felicity was asleep.
“Well, I am happy to hear that,” her mother said. “He was a lovely fellow, but he was not for you.”
“Yes, Mother. He did not own land,” Grace replied flatly.
“There is that,” her mother agreed. “But he was not right for you. You need someone far more… Oh, I do not know what the proper word is for it. You just need someone who is more… Well, to put a fine point on it, you need someone more like Mr. Blakesley. He is amiable and lively. I dare say you’d not want for enjoyment if you were to marry him.”
There was more to her mother’s complaint about Mr. Norman than just that he was a physician? Grace was surprised. It would have been nice if her mother had made such a thing known before now.
“Mrs. King said the same thing,” Grace admitted. “I think that Mrs. King would like Mr. Norman to marry her niece. It was not said, but I think they would make a good match.”
“Then, you are truly not attached to the man?” her mother asked.
“She loves Mr. Blakesley.”
Grace froze in her chair. Perhaps if she sat very still her mother would not remember she was there, or perhaps someone could knock at the door and distract her mother. She wanted to peek at her mother for she was so silent, but she dared not.
“Mr. Blakesley?” Unfortunately, her mother had found her voice and no knock at the door had distracted her.
“She calls him Walter.”
Felicity had barely spoken a word in the two days since leaving Bath. Could she not remain silent for just a bit longer?
“Does she?” Their mother sounded quite excited. Still, Grace sat perfectly still, not daring to make a noise or movement.
“I do not think she was ever truly being courted by Mr. Norman.”
Oh, wonderful. Not only was Felicity not going to remain silent she was going to become astute.
“Was she not?”
From the sounds Grace heard, she imagined Felicity had propped herself up on the bed.
“Why would she pretend that Mr. Norman was her suitor?” her mother asked.
“I am sure I do not know,” Felicity replied. “Why would you do that, Grace?”
“Do what?” Grace asked.
“Do not play stupid,” Felicity retorted.
How she wanted to retort that it was not she but Felicity who was stupid, but that would not be kind nor would it aid her cause at the moment. She did not need her mother to be put out before she needed to be.
“Why would you pretend that Mr. Norman was courting you?” Their mother asked. “Turn your chair so we can see you.”
Grace rose and did as instructed.
“Now, tell us why,” her mother commanded once Grace had taken a seat.
“Because of Felicity.” That was the entire reason as shocking as it appeared to be to her sister, though it should not be.
“I do not understand,” her mother said. “How could Felicity be the reason for your subterfuge?”
Grace sighed. “Felicity is always the reason. She is why I was not allowed to flirt with Mr. Everett Clayton. She was the reason why I was not to even consider Mr. Ramsey at the Abernathy’s house party.” She felt a pang of regret at having mentioned his name when her sister closed her eyes. “And she was the reason I had no season. She either gets or takes everything.” Grace blew out a breath. “Therefore, I thought it best to keep Mr. Blakesley a secret from her so that she would not take him from me.” She closed her eyes. “But as it turns out, she has taken him anyway.” Tears once again slid down her cheeks while she attempted to dash them away before they were seen.
“Oh.” Her mother seemed lost for words beyond that one word.
“I did not take him from you,” Felicity protested.
Grace shook her head. “You are right. You took me from him. I suppose there is a difference, though the result is the same.”
“How have I taken you from him? Because we are going home? And you are no longer in Bath?” Felicity looked honestly confused. “Surely, he can call on you at home.”
“In Kent? That seems a rather long drive for a call, do you not think?”
“I did not mean he would drive it all in one day. He could come for a visit. Father can invite him.”
“No, he cannot. I have broken off with him.”
“Why?” Felicity cried.
“Do you truly not know what you have done?” Was her sister really that senseless?
“No one knows what I have done,” Felicity said through clenched teeth. “They only know that I was treated poorly by Mr. Ramsey.”
“You were seen at his apartment. It does not take a great mind to decipher why you would be there.” She blew out a breath. “And if there is a child…” She shrugged. “I could not ask Walter to be tied to such a scandal. His home is in Bath you know. He will not get to drive away from any gossip.” Her words were cutting, and she knew it.
Felicity looked horrified. “Surely, you are being far more dramatic than the situation warrants.”
“Not all families would approve of a connection to ours at present,” her mother said. “Perhaps after the air has cleared for a time, then we can invite Mr. Blakesley to Kent.” She gasped. “Kent! You said he had a lady in Kent.” She gasped again. “You were speaking of yourself! Oh, you, sly girl!”
Grace had expected her mother to be more irritated and less pleased about having been duped. However, it was likely good to have one parent who was not utterly put out with her. Her father would not be as amused.
“You love him?” her mother asked.
Grace nodded. With all her heart.
“And does he love you?”
Grace thought once again about how he had held her in the drawing-room at his townhouse and how he had told her that he hoped to one day be able to offer for her. She thought about how delighted he had been when she told him she loved him in the corridor at the Upper Rooms, and how he mentioned speaking to her father. And then, he had told Mrs. King that she was from Kent. She smiled despite the pain each memory brought her.
He loved her. She was absolutely certain of that.
However, there was a knock at the door before Grace could push her memories of Walter away and answer her mother.
“I have brought a visitor,” her father said as he pushed the door open slowly.
“Walter?” Grace cried. Were her eyes deceiving her? The gentleman behind her father looked a great deal like Mr. Blakesley.
“Mr. Blakesley and I have had a very interesting discussion.”
It was him. He had come for her. She just knew he had.
“Grace.” Her father’s tone and look were stern. “I am not an advocate of deception, though I do think I understand the faulty reasoning behind it.” He tipped his head and smiled at her. “Your deep disappointment in leaving Bath makes a great deal more sense now.” He held out his hand to her. “I think Mr. Blakesley would like to have a private discussion with you, or, at least, as private as a discussion can be in the yard of an inn.”
He w
anted to speak to her privately! Her heart was surely going to burst from joy.
“Mr. Blakesley, I am entrusting you to make certain no other scandal befalls my family.”
“I would never do anything to harm your daughter or her family,” Walter said.
Grace sighed. He was so noble, so good, and so… well… everything. Was there another man in all of England as perfect has Mr. Blakesley? She was certain there was not.
Mr. Love placed Grace’s hand in Walter’s. “I am excessively pleased to hear that.” He winked at Grace. “I will wait here with your mother for the happy news.” Then, he shooed them from the room and closed the door, leaving them standing in the hallway of the inn.
Chapter 20
Walter looked up the hall and then down. Seeing it was empty, he pulled Grace into his arms for a quick embrace – not long enough by half but enough to assure himself that she was truly there with him. Two days of travelling and stopping at inns in search of her had been two very long days.
“Do not ever leave me again,” he whispered before releasing her. He grasped her face between his hands. “Promise me, you will not leave me.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Again, it was far from how he wished to kiss her.
“How can I promise that?”
There was a twinkle in her eye that spoke of her understanding full-well what he meant. However, there were also tears clinging to her lower lids. It was an apt picture of how he felt – a tumultuous mix of lingering pain from separation and sheer delight at having found her.
“Marry me. We can live at Erondale or in town. I do not care as long as you are with me.” Her smile was welcoming. “Please, will you be my wife?”
Her lips parted as if she was going to speak and then they closed as she cast a look at the door in front of which they still stood. He took her hand and, tucking it into the crook of his arm, led her the short distance to the stairs which would take them to the public rooms below. He was certain he knew what or, more precisely, who was causing her to hesitate.
“I know about your sister. Your cousin told me.” He drew her close and spoke in low tones. Not everyone in the establishment needed to hear what he was saying. But she did.
