Chapter Twenty
The next few weeks were calm. Jennie and James were busy returning to married life, and neither of them seemed ready for James to leave again. “I know he will have to go,” Jennie said to Grace in a voice that tried to be brave. “I will miss him, but I will wait because I know he will come back.”
After the ball, more invitations had arrived, which had surprised everyone.
It was as if not all of the ton looked down upon Grace and judged her for what had happened with Bolton.
Some of them admired Grace for her bravery and were not at all enamored with the Fotheringhams’ behavior.
Soon they had collected quite a few offers of dinners and another ball, and even a visit to the theatre with Lord Kilsyth.
“I heard of your unhappy adventure at the Fotheringham’s,” he said, when they were settled in their box. “I think Mrs. Fotheringham believed she was helping her brother restore his reputation, but instead they have both fallen out of favor. A good thing too.”
“They are a close family,” Grace said. She had remembered who Lady Fotheringham was, but too late to do any good. Bolton had spoken of her sometimes, but only by her first name.
“Well, let’s hope they enjoy their disgrace together,” Kilsyth declared.
He was a good friend to them both, but Grace was glad James had returned home to Jennie. An affair with Kilsyth would not have been a good idea, and she wouldn’t like to see either of them hurt. Perhaps Kilsyth would find someone else to love, one day. She hoped so.
That night when they returned to the house in Mayfair, Jennie met them as soon as they entered, and Grace was shocked to see that her face was ashen.
“What is it?” she asked. “Is it James?”
Jennie shook her head and took Grace’s hands in hers.
“My dear,” she said, “I have some dreadful news. Your father . . . I will not gild it because you need to know at once. Ormsby was thrown by his horse. He did not survive the ordeal.”
Grace stared back at her in silence. Ormsby dead?
Despite all that lay between them, she felt hollow inside.
Surely it was impossible that the man who had made her life a misery was gone.
How could that be? A mistake, she was sure, because the earl would always be there, always be a thorn in her side.
“Grace?” Rory’s arm was warm about her shoulders as he led her to the sofa. She sat down, her legs no longer able to hold her. She could hear him conversing with his aunt, their voices low and serious.
A moment later, she felt the cold rim of a glass against her lips and realized she was meant to drink. It was whisky, and she choked, but it had the effect of bringing her back from her dark thoughts. Blinking with watery eyes, she looked up at Rory and Jennie.
“Is he really dead?” she asked them.
“Yes,” Rory said gently. “He really is. And there’s more.”
“More?”
“Your sisters. Evidently, Ormsby left the bulk of his estate to his cousin.”
“Hugo?” she said, her voice rising. “Why would he . . .?” But of course she knew why.
Her father would never believe a woman could successfully manage her financial affairs, so he would have expected Hugo to deal with the estate.
He would have made Hugo the girls’ guardian, too, and as much as she had loathed her father, she knew that Hugo would care even less for their wellbeing.
“I must go to them,” she said urgently, getting to her feet.
The countess stopped her. “No need,” she said. “They are here. I have put them in the yellow room—”
She did not finish because Grace was already hurrying out the door.
The yellow room was upstairs, and she rushed up them at a fast pace, barely aware of her surroundings.
When she flung open the door, two pale and worried faces turned to her, and they both burst into tears.
A moment later they were in each other’s arms.
There was chaos—garbled words and tight hugs and grief—but eventually Grace found herself seated between her sisters, their hands clutched in hers, their faces tear streaked and exhausted, while they told their side of the story.
Ormsby had died a full fortnight ago. His cousin Hugo, already a guest at the estate, had immediately assumed control, announcing he would be taking up residence in the London house and the girls would return there with him.
But Hugo’s wife did not seem to want anything to do with them—she was too busy planning a complete renovation of the house that Ormsby had allowed to grow tatty over the years.
Hugo might be guardian to the two girls, but he seemed happy to ignore them, and it was a simple matter for them to slip away and come to the Strathmore house.
Grace’s letter had furnished them with the address and they had caught a hackney.
“Don’t make us go home,” Harriet begged. “Please! We want to stay with you, Grace.”
Grace did not know what to say. Well, she knew what she wanted to say, but she was living in someone else’s house. When she looked up, she realized that Rory was at the door, silent and watchful. How long had he been there? He had probably heard everything.
“My sisters want to stay,” she said, and knew her voice was full of the anxieties she was feeling. “I can go to a—a hotel if you—”
He made an impatient sound. “Of course you won’t go to a hotel. Aunt Jennie would love them to stay here. And we can talk about what happens next when we know what this Hugo is planning.”
The two younger girls were watching Rory with interest.
“He can’t be bothered with us,” Prudence said tartly. “We overheard him telling his wife. They don’t have any children of their own, and they don’t want us ‘cluttering up their lives.’ They want to enjoy their new position in society.”
“Hugo was always jealous of our f-father,” Harriet hiccupped.
“That settles it,” Rory declared. “You will both stay here with us.”
Grace wanted to mention the house they had viewed that Rory had thought too small and suggest they could still move there, but the warning in his expression stopped her. She decided to bide her time and see if Rory grew to regret his generous offer.
Aunt Jennie arrived with a swish of silk skirts and a beaming smile. “You can stay as long as you both wish,” she told them as if there had never been another option. “Rory will deal with any arguments from Hugo.”
Rory narrowed his eyes at her but said nothing. Grace wondered if he was already feeling overwhelmed by all of these problems that weren’t his. Perhaps he did not want two more dependents in his life, as well as a wife he had never asked for.
“Thank you!” the girls cried, and Jennie laughed and received their hugs of gratitude with pleasure.
“I will inform Cook you need food,” she said. “When did you last eat, my dears?”
The girls gave her a hopeful look. “Ages ago,” Harriet said.
“We’re starving,” Prudence added.
“Then tell me, my dears, what do you like to eat? Or more importantly, what don’t you like?”
*
It was some time later when Rory found himself alone with his aunt. The girls had eaten and Grace was settling her tired and overwrought sisters in their bedchamber, with the help of Bothwell.
“I never thought of my cat as a calming influence,” Jennie said thoughtfully, “but he seems to be very popular with the three of them.”
Rory found it difficult to believe too. But he had other matters on his mind.
For a start, he was wondering how on earth he had gotten himself into this tangle.
First a wife, and now he seemed to have acquired a ready-made family.
It felt as if everything was moving at too fast a rate, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.
He had acted from the heart when he married Grace, but ever since, he seemed to be digging a deeper hole for himself.
And yet what was he to do? The two girls needed his help, and he was in the position to offer that help.
Jennie was smiling at him. He suspected she was finding it all very amusing that Rory was suddenly hemmed in on all sides by females who were looking to him to save them.
“You do know that little house you were looking at will not work?” Jennie said. “You need something bigger. Or you could always go home to Bonnyrigg and take them with you?”
Rory groaned. “Don’t remind me. What will my parents say?”
“I think you will have to tell them soon, Rory. They may already know. People talk. I find it is always better to tell the truth.”
“You’re right.” He took a deep breath. “Just let me get them settled and then I will think of something.”
“Rory,” she said quietly. “You cannot abandon these girls, and you cannot abandon Grace. If you truly do not want to take on the burden of them then you must tell them now so that we can ensure they are safe and looked after. I’m sure they will understand your kindness has its limits.”
Rory stared at her horrified before shaking his head decisively. “They might understand, but I cannot do such a thing to them. Did you see their faces? I could not live with myself if I walked away. I would be as bad as Ormsby, or Hugo.”
“James knows some legal fellow who can fight this will of Ormsby’s, but we may not even have to do that.
Just the mention of a court case that could drag on for years and eat up all his money will frighten Hugo into handing over the girls to their sister.
Especially when he doesn’t seem to want them anyway. ”
Rory brightened.
“You are a good man,” Jennie went on gently. “But Rory, you cannot change your mind about this when things get too hard. You do know that, don’t you?”
“I do,” he said stoically. “And I won’t change my mind.”
And he wouldn’t. He understood that his life would never be the same again, and beneath the doubt and turmoil of his recently confused thoughts, Rory had a new sense of certainty.
A sense that after all these years of restless and ramshackle behavior, he had finally found a life that mattered.
A life that he may have been searching for all along.
*
A week later, Rory looked at Grace as she sat at the breakfast table, her eyes shadowed and half asleep.
One of her sisters had been up in the night crying out after a nightmare, and it was Grace who had comforted her and stayed with her.
Rory frowned. It was time he took a hand in the matter or his wife would wear herself to a frazzle.
Besides, he missed her. They had not been together in a physical sense since before the sisters arrived, and no doubt it was selfish of him, but he wanted her.
Most mornings he rode with Kilsyth, and the older man listened patiently to his complaints and then informed him that he must find some way to give his wife the respite she needed.
“Women have a tendency to put themselves last,” he said. “Show her you miss her. Indulge her. Remind her that she has a husband as well as her sisters, and he needs her too.”
Rory wanted to protest but he stopped himself. Kilsyth was right. If he did not want Grace to drift away from him, he needed to be frank with her. It was just that admitting he missed her was something he was struggling to come to terms with himself.
And now here was Grace, half asleep over her breakfast. Aunt Jennie shot him a look of consternation, but before she could say anything, Rory did.
“I think it is time we resumed our efforts to show London society we are not afraid of the gossips.”
Grace blinked up at him. She opened her mouth and closed it again.
“Whatever do you mean, Rory?” Jennie raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to continue.
“Kilsyth mentioned a musical recital at Vauxhall Gardens. We should go.”
“Tonight?” Grace said sharply. “I don’t think I can leave my sisters . . .”
“Of course you can,” Jennie said briskly. “I will be here. You must go about in society, Grace, if you want to be of use to your sisters in the future. You cannot hide away and never venture out, can you? I think you should take up your husband’s suggestion.”
Grace turned and looked at Rory. He raised his eyebrows in the same manner as his aunt. She sighed. “You’re right,” she said unenthusiastically. “We must continue to pretend I am your respectable wife.”
“Wear one of your new dresses,” Jennie went on. “I know just the one. I’m sure your sisters will enjoy helping you get ready. But right now you should have a nap, Grace.”
Grace looked as if she might protest again, but she must have realized Jennie was right. She rose to her feet. “Thank you,” she said awkwardly. “I do not know what I would do without your kindness.” She looked from Jennie to Rory and there were tears in her eyes.
When the door closed behind her, Rory sighed. “Perhaps I should have taken that wretched house after all,” he muttered.
But Jennie shook her head. “No. She cannot hide them all away forever, and she would regret it if she did. She will enjoy this outing, and so will you.” Her grey eyes twinkled.
“Show her that life does not have to be all responsibility and no fun, Rory. You are good at fun, or you used to be. Although these days you are looking rather glum!”
Rory grunted, but he knew it was true.
Time to cheer himself up with some flirtation.