by Lower, Becky
He placed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and smiled at her. “Hello, Grace. Or should I say Miss Wagner now? My goodness, how long has it been since we’ve seen each other? Six or seven years, hasn’t it been? Please join me.” He held out a hand to her, and, as if in a dream, she floated from the shadows to stand beside him.
“It’s so nice to see you again,” he continued. “Is this your first ball?”
She stared at him, baffled. “No, Mr. Fitzpatrick, it is not. I was introduced into society the same year your sisters, Heather and Jasmine, were.”
He smiled at her again, making her insides jump. “A lot happened that night, what with Jasmine’s broken ankle and Heather and David coming together, so forgive me for not remembering. It was fairly chaotic, even for my family. And please, call me Halwyn. But surely you didn’t participate last year, or I would have seen you.”
She sighed. “We were still mourning my father’s death for the first part of the season, but I sat along the wall for the latter portion, with my mother.”
“Ah, yes, I’m so sorry about your father’s untimely passing. He was a good man. You must miss him.”
“Every day,” she replied in a small voice, almost a whisper.
“I must confess, until a week ago when I got fitted for my glasses, I couldn’t see ten feet in front of me. So I regret I missed you last year.”
Grace sighed softly. “It’s all right. Everyone else did, too.”
“And why are you out here, on this dark balcony, by yourself this evening?”
“I couldn’t take another minute inside. ‘Society is now one polished horde.’”
Halwyn grinned at her. “‘Formed of two mighty tribes, the Bores and the Bored.’ Yes, Lord Byron did have it right, didn’t he?”
“He’s my favorite. But I had no idea you appreciated him, too. It’s nice to find a man who can quote poetry.”
She glanced up at Halwyn, an idea suddenly forming in her mind.
“Since we are old family friends, may I impose upon you for a favor?”
“Yes, of course, Grace. What is it that you need?”
“I need a gentleman to break the ice for me tonight, and ask me for a dance. Would you be so kind as to partner with me?”
“Well, certainly. In fact, I hear the orchestra starting up the next waltz right now. If you aren’t already obligated for this dance, shall we go inside and join the others on the dance floor?”
“My dance card is, unfortunately, void of any participants at this point. Thank you, Halwyn. I’d love to dance with you.” She smiled up at him and placed her hand on his arm as he led her from the balcony to the dance floor. The hem of her skirt whispered along the floor as she walked with him. He positioned one hand on her waist, holding the other aloft. As if they’d been dancing together for years, they fell into the steps of the waltz seamlessly. She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to burn into her memory this one night, this one dance. She could even rearrange the facts in her mind somewhat and pretend that Halwyn had asked for the pleasure of her company, having been overcome by her beauty, instead of the other way around. The song died out much too soon. She nearly whimpered as the last strains of the violin wafted through the air.
Halwyn bowed low over her hand as the dance ended. “You dance beautifully. Much better than my previous partner of this evening. Thank you, Grace, for the most enjoyable time I’ve had all evening. Mother has been finding ladies for me all night, but this was one occasion when I got to choose. I’m glad it was you.”
She hoped her mother caught a glimpse of the two of them, together on the dance floor. Or maybe it would be better if she didn’t.
• • •
Halwyn thought nothing of leading Grace back to the side of the room where her mother was sitting, talking to some of the other ladies. After all, it was the accepted practice to return a partner to her parents when the dance ended. But the closer they got to her mother, the slower Grace’s footsteps became. Halwyn stole a glance at her and discovered her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Sensing something was amiss, he stopped his forward approach and put a protective hand over hers.
“Would you prefer it if I leave you here, Grace? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
She blinked, forcing the tears away. He could read the worry on her face, and how she visibly relaxed at his question. He was correct, then. Something was truly wrong.
“Thank you, Halwyn, for understanding. Yes, perhaps it would be best.” Her voice was so low it was almost a whisper. He leaned in closer so he wouldn’t miss her words and caught a whiff of her fragrance. Lilac water. His favorite. He plucked her hand from his arm, and delivered a quick squeeze to her gloved fingers.
“The pleasure is all mine, Grace. Good evening.”
He backed away, out of sight of her mother, but near enough to keep an eye on things. Something was going on with Grace and her mother, and he was curious to know what it was. Her father’s death, a few years ago, had hit her fairly hard. Or so he’d been told by Jasmine and Heather, as they kept him informed on their friend’s life. He was aware of the fact her mother had remarried the following year, to a hard-nosed man Halwyn did not care for. In fact, he refused to have any dealings with him. Instead, whenever Simon Huffman had business with the bank, Halwyn’s father handled it. And each time, Halwyn gave thanks that his father had not yet stepped down from his position as head of the bank, which he was threatening to do more and more each year. Halwyn would be willing to wager his yearly income on the idea that Simon was behind whatever was happening between Grace and her mother.
Grace returned to her seat beside her mother, who barely nodded in her direction before she went back to her gossip with the other ladies. Thankfully, Simon was nowhere around, so Halwyn didn’t need to feign a conversation with him. Grace sat with her hands folded and her head up, waiting for the next gentleman, should there be one, to ask for a dance. Halwyn hoped he had done her a service by dancing with her. What would happen if he were to ask for a second dance right away? Would other men wonder why Halwyn found Grace so appealing and rush to dance with her so they could discover her allure for themselves? The idea did have merit. And she was an old family friend. His heart went out to her plight, whatever it might be.
She glanced up and caught his eye, smiling her thanks to him for the dance. Her mother, Sophie Huffman, suddenly turned sharply and spoke to her daughter. Halwyn caught the sudden shift in Grace’s demeanor. She stared at the floor, her hands in her lap, as her mother continued her tirade. Grace was sinking in her chair. Yes, it was time to take action.
He strode forward and stopped in front of her, bowing low once again. Grace raised her eyes and issued a little squeak of surprise. Her mother glanced up at him as well.
“Mrs. Huffman, good evening. I would be honored if I could have this dance with your lovely daughter. Would you mind?”
He caught Grace’s startled glance, as she shook her head slightly from side to side. Halwyn disagreed. It was not a bad idea. Sophie Huffman’s eyes ricocheted back and forth from Halwyn to Grace and back again, as if she couldn’t comprehend the question. So Halwyn took the control of the situation. He reached for Grace’s hand, and gently pulled her to a standing position as a new waltz began. They moved the few necessary feet to the dance floor, where he once again put his hand to her waist and lifted the other into the air, waiting for her.
“You didn’t have to do this, Halwyn,” she whispered as they glided across the floor.
“You are quite wrong, Grace. One dance with you was not enough. I had to do this.” He smiled across the room at her dumbfounded mother before he rested his eyes on Grace. Another line from the immortal Lord Byron ran through his head as the light from the candles played with Grace’s features: Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o’er her face. He leaned in again for another whiff of lilac water. Good Lord, here he was, his mind spouting lines of poetry about a lady! And the lady who was inspiring the poet in him
was none other than his sisters’ playmate, Grace Wagner. But the playmate had grown to be a lovely, intelligent woman who was a superb dancer. Perhaps this season wouldn’t be so hard to get through after all.
CHAPTER THREE
Grace, sweet, gentle, Grace, had been in Halwyn’s thoughts since he arrived home from the ball. What was going on between Grace and her mother? He had done what he could, by dancing with her. After he led her around the room not once, but twice, he noticed several other men decided to follow his lead, and Grace spent the last half of the ball on the dance floor, suddenly enormously popular, and seemingly happy. At least she didn’t have to listen to her mother harping at her. Halwyn had gauged her mother and stepfather’s expressions while Grace was dancing and was surprised they did not appear at all pleased that their daughter was enjoying some popularity.
He couldn’t help but compare Sophie Huffman’s reaction to that of his own mother when his sisters took to the dance floor in years past. Charlotte had cast a keen eye toward the men who expressed an interest in her daughters. If she didn’t know the gentlemen who seemed most eager, she certainly found out all about them by the next day, to make certain they were suitable candidates for her girls. In fact, she even orchestrated the match between Heather and her now-husband, David. In spite of himself, Halwyn smiled.
Sweet Jesus, he didn’t need a remembrance of the way his mother reacted to her daughters’ suitors to realize there was a vast difference between her and Grace’s mother. All he need do was remember the way his mother had pushed women at him this evening in her attempt to get him married off this year! He hoped she’d be satisfied that he had danced twice with Grace this evening, and would leave him alone for the remainder of the season. One could only hope.
Yes, Sophie Huffman and his mother had two entirely different reactions. Halwyn didn’t understand Sophie’s dour response to her daughter’s success on the dance floor. He’d have to discuss it with his mother in the morning. Maybe he should even enlist Jasmine’s help to find out what was going on, since she and Grace were still friends.
Having a plan of action in place, Halwyn let his mind drift away from Grace. He was restless, and decided to spend a few quiet minutes in the library before ascending the stairs to his bedroom. He sank into a chair, and ran his hand over the fine leather. He lit a cheroot, picked up a book, and began to relax. For some reason, however, Oliver Wendell Holmes’ book on the Breakfast Table Series didn’t capture his interest tonight, and he closed it with a snap. Even the smell of his thin cigar was annoying him this evening. Grinding out his cheroot, he removed his glasses and ran a hand over his eyes as he sat back in his comfortable chair. With his thumb and forefinger, he pushed his hair from his forehead.
His mother was right about one thing. It was well past time for him to move away from the family brownstone and set up residence on his own somewhere. Then he wouldn’t have to prowl the house without making a sound on nights such as this, when sleep eluded him. Maybe what he needed was a different book. Or maybe something from the kitchen. He rose from his chair just as the library door opened and his father walked in.
“Mind if I join you for a smoke, son?”
“Not at all, Father. After all, this is your house.”
George Fitzpatrick slid into a matching chair and lit his pipe before he spoke again. “So your mother’s comments about finding your own place are beginning to get to you, are they?”
Halwyn smiled. “Maybe a little. She’s probably right. I have been far too complacent about finding my own home.”
“I realize it’s a big undertaking. Finding a dwelling you can live in is just the beginning. There’s all the furniture, the decorating, the wall colors, and fabrics for the window curtains. Then there’s hiring the staff to make certain all the doo-dads you’ve just purchased remain sparkling clean. And someone to cook for you. I thank my lucky stars every day that your mother takes care of the house and the servants, so I don’t need to fill my mind with it.”
Halwyn gulped. He hadn’t even considered any of the actual running of a household.
“You’re not making this any easier, Father. And besides, I’d miss having breakfast conversations with little sister Saffron every morning.”
“Well, the answer’s quite simple. You need to find yourself a wife. Someone to deal with the running of a house, and to provide you with little Saffrons of your own.”
“That’s the other part of Mother’s mad plan for me this year, but I can’t abide another evening such as this one. Did you see what she did tonight, foisting women on me as if I were incapable of attracting a woman on my own?”
His father took a long puff on his pipe in order to hide the grin that was playing at his lips. “I did notice one woman you seemed quite interested in. Young Grace Wagner has turned into a lovely lady, hasn’t she?”
Halwyn’s gaze flitted to his father. “She is a superb dancer. That’s why I didn’t mind dancing with her twice tonight. And, you don’t miss anything, do you?”
“All I’m saying is your dances with young Grace were not of your mother’s doing. Yes, I noticed.”
Halwyn continued. “Well, I had to do something. The poor women Mother found for me were as uncomfortable with the situation as I was. And then, when I did dance with Grace, it seemed to make things even more difficult for her. I have a feeling that I did her no favors this evening, even though dancing with her was far more pleasurable than with any of the ladies Mother found for me. Do you have any thoughts on what is happening with her, Simon, and Sophie?”
“No, I don’t, but I must admit that, other than having to deal with Simon monthly when he comes to the bank for Sophie’s stipend, I pay him little mind. Maybe I should examine their holdings at the bank a bit more closely. And maybe you’d better figure out a way to find a wife soon. A wife could take care of getting your new living quarters sorted out for you, so you wouldn’t have to be bothered with it. Besides, unless you find someone soon, your mother will make your life a living hell in the next few months. Tonight was just the beginning.”
Halwyn rose from his chair and groaned. “A new house and a new wife in the same season? I’ll need to give it some more thought, Father. Thank you for the enlightenment.”
• • •
Grace endured her mother’s silence during the carriage ride home from the ball, while Simon glared at her. She was well aware her father’s considerable fortune hung in the balance between them, as if the trust were some huge behemoth, filling up the intimate carriage, sucking all the air from it. Grace struggled to keep her breathing normal. She would not let Simon see her frailty.
He was doing his best to derail her quest to be married, and out from under his rule. Instead of using the generous monthly stipend the trust allowed to lavish new gowns on her so she could put her best foot forward to prospective husbands, he took the money and used it to fuel his gambling habit. No wonder there were not many men willing to step forward and ask her to dance. Much less ask for her hand.
At least, until tonight. Halwyn Fitzpatrick, with his handsome, muscled demeanor, had finally seen her! Who would have guessed a pair of glasses was all he needed to recognize her? But his reaction to her had gone beyond the visual. He’d sensed there was a rift between her and her mother, and he attempted to elevate her status by dancing with her. No one else, in the entire three years she’d been on the market, had bothered to see beyond her worn and outdated clothing. She would not forget his thoughtfulness. Or the feel of his arms around her as they danced, as if they were one. His scent of tobacco and spice would haunt her dreams tonight, as she relived every moment of their time together this evening. She smiled as she thought again of Halwyn asking for a second dance.
“Don’t look so smug, my dear,” her mother whispered from the seat opposite Grace.
“I’m not smug, Mother. Merely happy, for the first time in a long time.” Grace fanned herself in a show of what she hoped was nonchalance. She prayed Simon didn’t not
ice the slight tremble of her hand.
Simon stared at her from across the carriage. “Do you honestly think any of the men you danced with this evening will ask for your hand? Don’t forget, they’ll need to have my approval first.”
Grace’s chin rose as she glared at her mother and stepfather. When had her mother become such a compliant woman? Simon made things unbearable for both of them. Grace wished, for the millionth time, her mother had used more discretion when she remarried last year. She studied both of them.
“I’m well aware of how unhappy you are that Father’s money has been tied up. But I didn’t dictate the terms of Father’s will and I’m not to blame. I’m tired of being your scapegoat. And it will be my decision, not yours, Simon, if a man asks for my hand.”
Simon’s face turned beet red. Grace was pushing back, perhaps too strongly. It might be a huge mistake, but she believed what she had just said. She was tired of being the reason for Simon’s bitterness. And her newly found spine straightening was partially due to Halwyn and the courtesies he had bestowed on her that evening.
“Watch your tone, missy. Halwyn Fitzpatrick will be reprimanded for his behavior tonight. I may take my business to another bank as a result.”
Grace threw her shoulders back and puffed at Simon in annoyance. “Although I’m sure Halwyn’s bank would survive without your business, it’s not a reality, is it, since Father’s trust is at that bank? And the trust money seems to be all you have at your disposal, despite the fact you go to ‘work’ every day. Import/export business, my foot. You have no job that I can tell. After the trust is dissolved, you can move your funds, such as they are, anywhere you want. But from now until July, the money will stay at National City bank. You will just have to endure it.”
“Hmmph. As I said before, watch your tone. Halwyn has done you no favors tonight.”
Grace folded her hands in her lap and sank back against the squabs in the leather carriage seat. She fished into her beaded reticule and brought out the cream-colored cloth handkerchief Halwyn had presented to her long ago. As she had done for years, she ran the square of cloth back and forth through her fingers as she thought. The years of use and of washing had made the square soft against her skin. She ran a finger over the blue Yale emblem embroidered in one corner. A plan was formulating in her head. One she didn’t want her mother and stepfather to be aware of. She needed to think things through, search for pitfalls, and run potential outcomes in her head before she took action. Grace tamped down her excitement as her plan developed in her mind. There was one way out of her dilemma and she was going to take it. Perhaps Halwyn hadn’t done her any favors tonight. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t.
