Saving Grace (38 page)

“Enough,” Grace said, cutting off her tirade. “I am acutely aware of my many shortcomings and flaws. You have been so kind as to point them out to me continuously. What I do not understand is why you hate me so much.” She searched Lady Sutherland’s eyes. “What have I done to earn your animosity?”

Lady Sutherland drew back, and her hand fluttered to her chest in a gesture of innocence. “I do not hate you. Whatever gave you such an idea?”

“What have you done to give me any other?” Grace gave a mirthless laugh and turned away so Lady Sutherland would not see the tears building in her eyes. “Since your arrival, I have done everything I could think of — caring for Elizabeth’s gardens, picking berries and baking a pie, showing concern for your tenants — but everything I try seems to be wrong. Instead of earning your good favor, I have done nothing but incur your disdain.”

“I see.” Lady Sutherland let out a long breath. “And what of your little outbursts? Your threat to throw me out of my own house?”

“I have never threatened —”

“You
implied
,” Lady Sutherland said. “And that is as good as a threat. It is what those in the upper class do.”

“Forgive me for behaving as you would,” Grace said sarcastically. She crossed to the window and looked out at the yard, where the lawn was swept free of leaves, the paths cleared, and the bushes had been trimmed in preparation for winter and a fresh bloom next spring.

I have done some good here. I know it. Because of me, Nicholas has seen to these things; he has begun to care for his home again. So why can his mother not care for me a little? Why can she not see beyond my faults?

“It would seem we are at an impasse,” Lady Sutherland said. “Neither of us is likely to budge in our opinion of the other, so I will take my leave. The dressmaker will be here to measure you early next week. See that you are not gallivanting about somewhere when she arrives.”

Grace closed her eyes, swallowing what little pride she’d managed to retain in Lady Sutherland’s presence.
We cannot continue this way. If Nicholas has success with his ball, and we are eventually wed, life will be misery. He will be caught between us, and I’ll ever be waiting for him to choose my side.

Even were none of that to happen, were she somehow able to leave today to never return, Grace could not reconcile herself to taking her leave of Lady Sutherland on such a sour note.

“Wait.” Grace turned from the window and quickly crossed the room.

“I am sorry,” she said, facing Lady Sutherland. “I do have a temper. Grandfather was forever trying to tame my moods. He would be disappointed to know he was not successful.”

Lady Sutherland’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Grace twisted her hands. “For this ball, at least, I will do everything you ask of me. I will try to be less offensive and more like ... a woman you would have chosen for your son.”

Lady Sutherland looked at Grace a long moment. “That is the root of our problem, you realize. Neither Nicholas nor I was given any choice in this matter.”

“Nor was I, in spite of what you believe,” Grace said. “I am speaking the truth.”

“Nicholas says that is all you speak,” Lady Sutherland said. “He tells me he has never known a person so honest or trustworthy.”

Something in Grace’s stomach fluttered, and a surge of unexpected happiness filled her.

The dowager put her hand over Grace’s, squeezing gently. “Perhaps I have been too hard on you.” She inhaled deeply, then released a long breath. “I, too, apologize.”

“Thank you,” Grace said as their hands fell away. She felt tears stinging her eyes again, but for completely different reasons than moments before.

“It has been three years since I spent time with my daughter,” Lady Sutherland said. “No doubt I have forgotten the tender sensibilities of young ladies.”

“I have been even longer without a mother,” Grace said. “I am the one lacking in proper speech.”

Lady Sutherland smiled. “Now we are both disparaging ourselves. That will never do.”

Grace returned her tentative smile. She could not quite believe her good fortune in gaining Lady Sutherland’s sympathy, or at least that they were having a civil conversation.

Nicholas’s mother made no move to leave but instead walked to the chairs near the fireplace and seated herself in the closest one. Grace followed, hoping against hope that this pleasantness might continue.

I will take care with my words,
she vowed.

Lady Sutherland stared into the fire. “When Elizabeth married, I had no say in her choice of a husband. I had imagined many things for my daughter, and Samuel Preston promised none of them. I was against the match, of course, but her father had a soft spot for Elizabeth and was prone to letting her have her way. He gave his blessing, so there was naught I could do about it.”

“Women have so few choices,” Grace concurred. She’d never thought of that truth beyond her own hardships, but now she imagined having a daughter and not being allowed involvement in decisions regarding her future.

“It would seem you have had even fewer choices than some,” Lady Sutherland said, turning kind eyes upon Grace. “I
have
been angry with you, because it appears I will also have no choice in seeing how my son is settled. I had thought to give him another year or two to recover from losing his sister and his father and to get over the infatuation with revenge he has so fixated upon since their deaths.”

“I’m sorry —”

“Then I imagined that I would introduce Nicholas to the most beautiful, eligible young ladies in all of London. I imagined that one of them would capture his heart.” Lady Sutherland had a faraway look in her eyes; Grace supposed she was imagining the very scenario she had dreamed of many times over.

I am not that beautiful young lady. I am not anything she hoped for.

“They would be married and reside here,” Lady Sutherland continued. “And not many years hence, these halls would ring with the merry voices of little children as they once did.”

Grace felt worse than she had all of the times Nicholas’s mother had beleaguered her.
There is nothing I can do or say to make her like me, to give back her dreams.

“I had planned my life differently too,” Grace said, thinking that telling of her own, shattered plans might be the only thing to convince Lady Sutherland of the truth. “My grandfather left me a small inheritance. It is not much; the rest of his estate transferred almost immediately to the new duke.”

Lady Sutherland nodded. “That is how these things work.”

“We do not require much,” Grace said. “Grandfather knew that we — my sister, brother, and I — could live on very little. He left us enough that I could rent a house somewhere in the country, and we could live simply, freely, without my father or his many debts.”

“What happened?” Lady Sutherland asked, her full attention on Grace. “Why did you not do so?”

And leave your son free to live his own life,
Grace thought. “The inheritance has not yet been settled, as we had believed. The new duke contested it. We had to return to our father’s home.” Grace looked down at her lap, ashamed to have to tell what came next. “Father was most delighted to have us back. His debts had multiplied, and his luck had turned for the worse. He was about to be thrown in prison.”

“I do not understand how any of that relates to your being here,” Lady Sutherland said, sounding somewhat less compassionate than before.

“I thought that Nicholas had told you what happened,” Grace said.

“Perhaps he did. It is possible I have forgotten.” Lady Sutherland waved her hand in the air. “I was so distraught, you see, that I did not listen to the particulars as I should have.”

Grace told her all of them. The debt collectors knocking on Father’s door, her going in Helen’s place in search of a husband. She told of pompous Lord Crosby and of Sir Lidgate’s scandalous offer. She told of falling from her horse on purpose and of the broken-down carriage, of her sickness and her plan to be ruined.

Throughout it all, Lady Sutherland listened with acute interest, leaving Grace no doubt that henceforth she would remember every detail.

When at last Grace had finished, Lady Sutherland sat back in her chair, a hand to her chin once more as she looked into the dying fire. The room had grown chilly during their conversation, but Grace felt that a new warmth — or an understanding at least — had sprung up between them.

At length, Lady Sutherland rose from her chair. “I have lingered too long. There are many more preparations to be made if we are to hold a ball Christmas Eve.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Grace asked, standing as well.

Lady Sutherland considered her a long moment. “What needed to be done the most, you have already accomplished — quite probably without even realizing it.” She smiled wistfully. “I shall let you know if I require other assistance.”

She took her leave, and Grace was once more alone. She wrapped her arms around herself and went to stand near the fire, heartened that for the first time, the room felt cooler without Lady Sutherland’s presence.

“Mrs. James,” Grace called as she hurried down the stairs, silently blessing her good fortune at finding the housekeeper in the foyer with the newly hired army of servants assembled before her.

“Yes, miss?” The housekeeper’s tone was slightly less frigid than usual, and Grace supposed she had the gathered servants to thank for that.

“I came to offer my services,” Grace said. When Mrs. James stared at her blankly, Grace clarified, “To help you prepare for the ball. I know you’ve very little time and a great deal to do.”

Mrs. James returned her attention to the new maids. “Go to your posts. Begin with the deep cleaning we just discussed, and I shall apprise you later of what else is to be done.”

As one body, the uniformed women dispersed, disappearing quickly to the nether parts of the house. Mrs. James clasped her hands and looked at Grace. “Miss Thatcher, you must know that his lordship would have my head were I to give you work of any sort. I realize you’ve come from somewhat — different — circumstances, but here at Sutherland Hall, as in any respectable household, guests do not
help
the staff.”

Grace bristled internally at her choice of words. “I have lived here three months. I hardly consider myself a guest. Sutherland Hall is my home.” The truth of the statement struck her.

When and how had that happened? When had the cold, uninviting stone transformed to a place she held dear? Was it during those cozy evenings spent in the library with Nicholas? Or during the many meals they’d taken together, during which her wit and willpower were at a constant challenge against his mother’s? Perhaps it occurred that moment on the stairs when, heedless of his dripping clothes, Nicholas had spoken to her and had first taken her hand.

Probably it was the sum of all these events that had made her feel at home, even added upon by Lady Sutherland that afternoon two weeks earlier when they had first talked to each other civilly. Since then, during the many visits by the dressmaker and florist and caterer, Nicholas’s mother had been cordial on almost every occasion they had met.

“Whether or not you are a guest is irrelevant,” Mrs. James said, interrupting Grace’s thoughts. “You do not see Lady Sutherland running around with a mop and bucket, do you? Of course not.” Before Grace had the opportunity to reply, she continued. “It is not done. Now if you’ll excuse me —”

“Please,” Grace said. “It doesn’t have to be a broom or mop — or anything so obvious as that — but there must be some small task I might help with. I am not used to so many idle hours, and I fear if I continue them, I shall go quite mad.”

“Why don’t you take one of your walks in the garden?” Mrs. James suggested. “You seem quite taken with wandering — much as Miss Sutherland was.”

Does she know about my meetings with Samuel?
Grace’s heart pounded beneath her gown. “It has grown too cold to walk, and with the leaves fallen, the garden does not hold the same appeal.”

She had not been walking, had not been to the wall to see Samuel, since that ill-fated afternoon when he had passed them on the road and caught Nicholas kissing her. Grace wasn’t certain why she had not visited him.

I ought to, to tell him all is well, at least.
But she could not seem to bring herself to meet him. Though they had never let their meetings go beyond friendship, she knew something of the depths of Nicholas’s feelings concerning Samuel and that he would disapprove. And where at first she had not cared a fig whether Lord Sutherland was displeased with her, she found that she cared a great deal now.

“Why don’t you visit the library, then?” Mrs. James said, sounding more exasperated by the minute.

Grace shook her head. “I adore Lord Sutherland’s books, but there are only so many hours in the day one can read. Isn’t there something I can do for you? And before you say no again, is it really so wrong that I want to help? Must you think ill of me because I wish to be of some use?”

“I do not think ill of you,” Mrs. James said, but her words were stiff, her tone unconvincing. “It is only that ... you do not treat the staff as the Sutherlands do. It is one of the reasons Jenny was taken from you. She’d never be trained as a proper lady’s maid; you were too friendly with her.”