Clean Inspirational Romance: Escape to Paradise (Inspirational Happy Sweet First Love Second Chance Romance) (Contemporary New Adult Love Inspired Holiday Short Stories) (25 page)

Edwin smiled at her. “Well, that seems unfortunate now in retrospect, does it not?”

Her father looked over at me and smiled, and looked obviously between the two of them.

What?
I thought, and shook my head in return, unsure of what he was trying to say. He looked between the two of them again and then nodded his head.

What do you think?
I assumed he was asking.
Why was he asking me?

“Yes, Mr. Gale is quite a lively fellow. We have spent many nights sharing stories of our professions late into the wee hours while we sampled his wonderful cook’s pies. Oh, those pies. I dream about them when I am home.”

Grace laughed at his statement. “Oh, Mrs. Peterson’s pies are just divine. I practically begged her to make me one for my birthday last year.”

“And how many years does the lady have, pray tell?” Edwin asked, his eyes like a fox chasing a small chicken.

Grace laughed again, and instead of bringing me joy, it sent a shock of ice through my veins. For some reason, I wished for it to stop. I wished that it was a few moments ago when she and I stood against the wall and we laughed together. Just the two of us.

“Oh, Mr. Montgomery, where are your manners? You know you never ask a lady her age in such a blatant manner.” Another sinking feeling. That was the sort of playful thing she only ever said to me.

Edwin bent closer to her, a wide smile on his face. “I beg your pardon, my lady. But you truly do not look a day older than eighteen.”

I glanced sideways at her. She held a gloved hand to her face, covering her mouth as she laughed once more. “You do flatter me so, Mr. Montgomery.”

“I aim to please.”

Her father beamed and clapped his hands together. “Come, everyone, let us have a toast! A toast to friendship and long life and wonderful parties where the night never ends!”

He reached behind himself and grabbed a tall flute, and signaled to a waiter wandering around to bring more to the group.

Everyone around me smiled and made pleasant small talk as we awaited our drinks. Edwin held his flute in his hands and looked as comfortable with it as if it were a simple teacup. He was not looking at me, however. His eyes had not left Grace. And as I chanced a quick glance at her, I saw that she, too, was fixated on him. Both of them didn’t seem to notice anyone else in the group as they talked.

But what was most upsetting was that even to Grace, I didn’t seem to exist.

I forced a smile, though, as Mr. Fletcher raised a glass above his head, his cheeks rosy from drink already. And as we toasted one another, I continued to watch Grace and Edwin even as they only watched each other.

I forced myself to drink slowly and not the entire glass. Part of me wished to drink it all in one gulp, hoping that it might dull the ache in my stomach and the burning at the back of my neck and ears. But that would not be wise either. I was being ridiculous, of course. There was no earthly reason why I should not be happy that two of my friends seemed to have taken an interest in one another. I should be delighted. How much worse could it have been if they had despised one another?

I turned my back to the group I stood to survey the room around me. Perhaps it was simply that I was becoming ill. It was winter, after all. The snow had been heavy this year, and I had spent more time than I had wished the day before helping the carpenter carry wood inside. He had hurt his leg, and in order to keep the house warm, I happily agreed to help.

I sighed. Yes. That must be it. I must be coming down with something.

Relieved somewhat, I turned back to the group and put on my best smile. Maybe it would be wise for me to excuse myself in order to rest if I was indeed growing ill.

“Oliver?”

I looked over. Grace’s eyes were on me, and it startled me. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and I saw Edwin was engaged with her father about politics. Grace’s least favorite subject.

“Are you alright? You look awfully pale.”

I shook my head and smiled. “I’m quite alright. Thank you for asking.”

She seemed to hesitate, but she nodded at me and smiled back before turning her attention back to the group.

The music picked up once more with a song that I recognized, and I folded my arms behind my back as I kept the time with my pointer finger against my back.

“Oh, I absolutely adore this piece!” Grace said, and my mother, who stood beside her, agreed.

Edwin turned his attention back to her. “Well, then would you honor me with a dance, Miss Fletcher?”

Grace beamed. “Yes! I love to dance!”

And with that, he took her hand and lead her to the crowds of people that lined up on the floor to dance as well. They smiled at one another as they took their places.

It left me standing with her parents and my mother.

*****

Her mother sighed a heavy, happy sigh. “Oh, darling, isn’t it wonderful? I never thought I would see the day when our oldest daughter would ever be quite so agreeable to a young man.”

I felt my heart skip a beat, and then I reprimanded myself. I was acting like a child. However, I was unable to completely ignore the feeling in my stomach. I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to look around the room. But all I could do was follow Grace through the crowd, like a ray of sunshine through a dark cloud.

“It is indeed a great sight, my love. Such joy it brings my old heart.”

Her mother seemed to shake with excitement. “I must go tell Gwen,” and without another word, she turned around and moved towards the other side of the room.

Her father, who stood beside me, sighed as well.

I wondered if I should ask him if he was alright, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear anything else about Grace and Edwin dancing together.

“Is he a good man?” Mr. Fletcher asked.

“Pardon me?” I asked when a moment or two of silence passed. I wasn’t entirely sure he was speaking to me.

“Mr. Montgomery. Is he truly a good man?”

It felt like a question that I should not take lightly. I turned my gaze to Edwin as he danced, a wide smile on his face. It was genuine, I knew, but I still searched his face for any sort of deceit.

I felt suddenly terrible for thinking so low about my friend.
Edwin is my friend
, I told myself. We had been friends for years, just as Grace and I had been. It was so strange that I felt so conflicted, and how suddenly it had come on.

“He is a good man,” I finally answered, still watching him. “He is gentle, honest, and loyal. He’s a God-fearing man, and has a true heart for others. He is always willing to help, and never neglects his own duties.”

Her father made a noise of acknowledgment as he, too, looked at the couple dancing.

“She seems to be so happy,” he added. “I have longed to see a day when she might find joy in a man that I have arranged for her to meet. I always wished for her to find someone that she herself is happy with.” He smiled. “The only other man I have seen her this happy with is you, Oliver.”

I looked over at him. “Sir?”

He laughed. “It’s true. You are her dearest friend. She absolutely adores you, and I must thank you myself for always being there for her. She would not be so happy if she did not have a friend like you.”

A quiet sense of peace welled up inside of me, like a spring feeding a river, silent and strong. We always had been told as we grew up together how special our relationship was. It was unconventional for young, single men and women to be such good friends, but having been playmates since we were first learning to speak, we knew nothing different. Neither did our families. My mother always told me to cherish it, for I would most likely never have another like it.

“Her spirit is too wild for me to have hoped to force a marriage upon her,” he continued. Gwen, now, is very docile and modest, and that approach worked for her. But Grace…Grace needs to make her own choice. She will listen to no one else but her own heart.”

I shifted my gaze to Grace, who seemed entirely joyous as she danced with Edwin. She threw her head back and laughed at something he said, clapping enthusiastically along with the music. What her father said was true. She would listen to no one else aside from her own heart.

A few summers prior, after a particularly difficult evening at a ball very much like the one we were at now, I had found Grace at her mother’s behest outside. She had been hiding from a gentleman who was far too persistent for his own good.

“Grace?” I had asked. She had her face buried in her hands, and her shoulders trembled.

I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Grace, are you alright?”

She pulled her head out of her hands and looked up at me. Her cheeks were wet, tears still streaming down onto her pretty blue gown. I remembered how beautiful she had looked, standing outside in the moonlight, her hair and eyes scattered with silvery strands like starlight.

But she had no fear crying in front of me. She had cried many times as a young girl, and she had never felt the need to cover that up as we continued to grow up. Her bottom lip trembled, and I had to suppress the urge to smile in spite of the situation.

“Oh, Grace,” I had said. And then her tears came fresh, and she threw herself into my arms, and buried her face in my jacket, and continued to cry.

Startled, I slowly put my arms around her back, and whispered to her over and over that she was going to be alright, and that everything was fine.

When her sobbing and whimpering finally slowed down and her breathing returned to a normal pace, she pulled back away from me, clutching a small handkerchief in her hand. She dabbed at her eyes.

“Oh, Oliver, I am so very sorry.”

“For what, might I ask?”

She shook her head. “What a foolish girl I am, crying like a child.”

I laughed. “No, it is not a problem at all. Please, tell me what was bothering you so much.”

She sighed and looked out into the fields by the large drive full of the carriages that belonged to the many guests in attendance. “That arrogant man, Mr.…Oh I don’t even want to say his name.”

I smiled. “Mr. Anders? Well, fear not, I have no good will towards the man either. He was downright despicable.”

Her face brightened. “He is! I danced one dance with him, at my father’s request, and the only thing he could possibly think to speak about was the current state of affairs in his little town. He apparently thinks that he will be able to talk his way into being an heir to the Duke that lives in his town.”

“How would that possibly work?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I think it is absolutely preposterous.”

I nodded. “Well, your father already apologized to me about him when you left. He was under the impression that he already was the heir to a Duke’s estate. Apparently his reputation did not precede him this time.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “And after our dance, he was insistent that he follow me around like a little lost puppy! He never even asked me if it was what I wanted; he just simply assumed that I would want nothing more than to spend the evening in his presence!”

She sighed heavily. “I couldn’t stand being in there for one more minute. My father isn’t upset, is he?”

I shook my head. “No, he seemed to understand perfectly. In fact, I think he was rounding up your sisters so that you might be able to have an early departure this evening.”

“Oh good,” she said, clutching her kerchief to her chest. “Thank you, Oliver, for coming out to check on me.”

I smiled at her. “I wanted to make sure you were alright. He was ghastly, after all.”

She laughed. “Well, I can know for certain that I do not want to marry
him
.”

Then she looked up at the stars overhead and smiled. “When I do meet the right man, it will entirely catch me off guard. That much I know is true.”

“Really? Don’t most women dream of that moment when it will happen?” I asked.

She laughed. “And when have you known me to be like most women, dear Oliver? No, I imagine that when I do meet the man I will marry, it will be a complete surprise, and I will be happy.”

“But you are always happy,” I added.

“Maybe with you,” she laughed. “My dear mother wouldn’t exactly agree with you. I just want someone who is real
,
someone who I can be myself around. I feel too often that I am putting a face on for these suitors.”

I leaned against the pillar beside her and looked up at the stars. “I understand what you mean. I don’t like to pretend to be someone I’m not at these events either.”

She turned to me. “But you are always so kind and so attentive to the young ladies at these balls.”

“It doesn’t ever feel genuine. I always find myself wanting to just watch the dancing, but my mother won’t ever let me.”

It was her turn to laugh. “Well, it certainly never appears that you are uncomfortable. And I would be the one to tell otherwise, you know. I think you secretly enjoy dancing with all the pretty young women.” And she gently nudged against me with her shoulder.