Chapter 1 #2
“When did this happen?”
“About a year and a half ago. When my wife learned of Grace’s plight, she offered her the position.”
“Plight?”
What on earth had taken place? Despite the past, the thought of Grace suffering soured Edward’s stomach.
Why hadn’t Conway said something to him about Grace’s struggles?
Whenever he saw his friend, he’d always inquired after her.
The three of them had grown up together and were friends after all.
But the response had always been the same: “She is doing well.”
Kenwreck’s words broke into his thoughts.
“It is not easy for a woman in her circumstances. Grace was eager to accept the position since Conway and his family were preparing to leave for an extended visit with Lady Conway’s relatives in America.
” Kenwreck stood to take his leave, but before he departed, he added, “I never understood what happened between the two of you.”
“Neither did I.” It had been almost three years, but Edward was still unable to put her behind him.
The day he’d discovered she’d married another had been the worst day of his life.
Reason had never set in, and even now, he could not understand why.
But Fate had handed him this opportunity to see her once again, and he was going to find out once and for all.
“This just arrived from London,” Mrs. Elkins, the head housekeeper, announced as she rushed into the room.
Once a week, the Home for Desolate Ladies received the scandal sheets.
It wasn’t that Grace was interested in gossip.
Absolutely not. In fact, she’d personally experienced enough of it to last three lifetimes.
However, she was interested in what the rumormongers might be saying about their residents.
“Are any of our ladies mentioned?” she said as she scanned the contents of the paper.
“Not this week.”
“That is a relief. I would hate for gossip to ruin Christmas for the ladies.” Last week, there had been a snippet about one of the more recent arrivals and her fall from society, which had brought her very irate father to the Home’s doorstep.
“I agree. Is there anything else you would like before I organize the costumes for the Twelfth Night musicale?”
“Yes, please make certain that Mrs. Smith has everything she requires,” Grace instructed Mrs. Elkins. “I don’t want her exerting herself in her current condition.” A shiver ran down her spine as memories of her own past sufferings gripped her heart. She quickly shook those thoughts away.
“I will direct the other maids as well,” Mrs. Elkins started, then added, “Oh, and Mr. Elkins has ensured that everything has been made ready at the Dower House according to your instructions.”
“Excellent.” Grace didn’t know who the guest was, but Kenwreck had been adamant in his orders that the house be made ready, and a small staff assembled to be at the disposal of the mystery guest. Thankfully, they could spare a handful of servants to attend.
“After I’ve checked on the Christmastide preparations in the parlor, I will be upstairs if anyone needs me. ”
This was Grace’s favorite time of year. She couldn’t wait to decorate the Home. Although she’d resided here for some time, this would be her first Christmas in residence, and she wanted everything to be perfect.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Banks,” one of the young maids said as she entered the parlor. “The ribbons and tinsel have just arrived, and the greenery is due to be delivered the morning of Christmas Eve, just in time to decorate.”
Lady Kenwreck had been most generous in purchasing the abundance of decorations for the Home. They’d been preparing for the festive season for the past few months. She only wished her friend could see the fruits of their planning.
“Wonderful. I believe everything will be finished in time. Can you make certain that Cook doesn’t need additional assistance? Whenever I go even near the kitchen, she shooshes me away, telling me it’s a surprise for this evening.”
Although Christmas Eve was still nearly a sennight away, Cook had decided there was much to be thankful for this year and declared with great jubilation that it was never too soon to start celebrating the season with confectionary delights.
Based on the delicious smells wafting through the house, Grace hoped the older woman was making her spiced bread.
“Yes, Mrs. Banks.” With a wide smile that revealed numerous crooked teeth, the maid added shyly, “I’m really looking forward to decorating for Christmas.” The girl offered a slight curtsy, then left.
Grace inspected the ribbons and tinsel. She was quite pleased with the selection of colors.
Decorating a house this size required meticulous forethought.
For the past two months, everyone in residence had given their opinion as to which rooms should be dressed and what colors were the most festive.
The final consensus was that every nook and cranny should be dripping with seasonal cheer.
“It seems that everyone is getting into the Yuletide spirit,” Beata—Mrs. Kirkby—chuckled as she strolled into the room. “I just passed Molly in the hall, who is caroling with much gusto.”
“Is that what I heard?” Laughter bubbled past Grace’s lips. “I think she is even more excited than me about decorating. The house is going to look simply splendid come Christmas Eve.” Indeed, she could think of no better place to enjoy the season than with the ladies of the Home.
“I think so, too,” Beata said in a tentative voice.
Although she was only six and thirty, the years—or more accurately, the late Mr. Kirkby—had not been kind to her.
“I… I wanted to thank you for making me feel so welcome here, for giving me a place to breathe more easily. This past year has truly been a blessing in my life and given me a sense of purpose. For the first in a long time, I am looking forward to Christmastide.”
They might have come from different stations in life, but the two women shared an unfortunate similarity which strengthened the bond of friendship.
Whereas Grace was able to hide her scars, Beata’s were on display for the world to see and judge.
She went to her friend’s side and embraced her.
“Oh Beata, you never have to be afraid again. You are safe here and no one can take that away.”
“Thank you. This establishment has truly become a home.”
“I’m glad.” A great sense of accomplishment washed over Grace. She wholeheartedly enjoyed the work she was doing here. It wasn’t the life she’d imagined or even reimagined, but after more than two years of mostly desolation, life was starting to improve.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Beata started with another chuckle, “Cook asked me to keep you out of the kitchen.”
“Then I shall take the hint, yet again,” Grace smiled, “and check on our newest resident.” And with that, she went upstairs to visit one of the most recent guests to come to the Home.
She knocked softly before opening the door and peering inside. Mrs. Mary Smith—if that actually was the young woman’s name—was propped against numerous pillows, her round belly consuming her otherwise very petite frame.
“And how are you this fine afternoon, Mrs. Smith?”
Since her arrival last month, Mrs. Smith had not left her room and barely said a dozen words, but the maid who’d been tending to her had revealed that the young woman cried often.
Mrs. Smith glanced her way. She looked like a frightened little kitten who wanted to scurry under the furniture to hide. Grace had tried to ease the girl’s worries, to become friends with her, but her efforts had yet to work.
“You have no maid attending you, so Mrs. Elkins will continue to ensure you have everything you need.” There was nothing else she needed to inform the young woman of, so she was glad to have something joyful to entice her with.
“Ribbons and tinsel were delivered today. We would love it if you joined us for the bringing in of the Yule Log, and also decorating the house, although only if you feel up to it.”
When Mrs. Smith arrived, already large with child, Grace had sent for the accoucheur. After examining the girl, the accoucheur assured Grace that she was indeed healthy and was about three months from delivery. That had been a month ago.
“Would you like to have a festive garland or wreath in your—”
Loud sobs erupted from Mrs. Smith. Her belly shook with each cry as she took in huge gulps of air.
Grace rushed to her bedside and sat down. “Oh dearest,” she cooed, “Please don’t be upset. It’s not good for you or the baby.”
“I’m so scared,” Mrs. Smith cried.
“Shh.” Grace took a handkerchief from the nightstand and wiped Mrs. Smith’s perspiring forehead.
“There’s nothing to fear. Women have been having babies since the beginning of time.
It will all be alright.” Grace didn’t know that for sure, but what was she to say?
That her own pregnancy had been the stuff of nightmares?
Instead, she settled on positive pleasantries.
“You’re among friends here, Mrs. Smith.”
Frightened green eyes met hers. “Mary. Please call me Mary.”
“Mary.” Grace offered a smile. “Mrs. Elkins and I, and all the other ladies in residence, will be here to help you when the time comes.”
Mary gave a slight nod of her head as if she was still unsure.
Grace wanted to ask questions, discover who had left Mary in such a state, but one of the rules Lady Kenwreck and she had agreed upon was anonymity if the lady in question so desired, and this young woman had insisted upon it.
Grace hoped once the baby was born, Mary would feel more comfortable and confide in her.
Until then, she would do whatever she could to ease Mary’s fears.
“Mrs. Banks?” Mary questioned softly.
“If we’re to be friends, please call me Grace.”
A smile encompassed Mary’s features.
Not for the first time, Grace wondered just how old she was. She seemed such a small, timid creature, not quite a woman, but clearly old enough to conceive.
“I think I should like a garland in my room.” Mary paused for a moment before adding, “With a pink ribbon, if I may?”
Grace was pleased that she was finally talking in sentences rather than just replying yes or no. “Of course.” She stood, then smoothed her hands down the front of her serviceable light grey dress. “Perhaps I should leave you to rest—”
“Oh, please stay.” Mary reached out her hand.
“I don’t want to be alone. I’m tired of being left with only my thoughts for company.
” She shook her head. “Do you have any idea how many thoughts one can have when left to one’s own devices?
” She answered the question for herself a moment later, “Hundreds!”
Grace let out a little chuckle as she pulled over a chair and sat beside the bed. The only thoughts currently coursing through her mind all centered on how this young woman had found herself in such a situation. Was it a rake who seduced her? Or perhaps—
“I’m sorry that I have not been a pleasant houseguest,” Mary’s apology broke through her speculation.
“Truly, you have not been a bother,” she tried to reassure the girl.
“I… I just didn’t know what to say, or if I could trust…” She clamped her mouth shut for a moment before she began to apologize once again. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just I don’t know you, and my situation is…” More tears streamed down her cheeks.
“You can trust all of us here. Lady Kenwreck established this home so that women could find comfort and safety.”
“That’s very reassuring.” Mary sniffled, then worried her lip for a moment. “I need to tell you…” She inhaled deeply and then on a slow exhale confessed, “I’m not married.”
“Does the man involved know—”
“No. Nobody knows. I was able to keep it a secret.” Mary rubbed her large belly. “My… relative thought I was eating too much and just getting fat.”
“Perhaps you should write—”
“No! I cannot!” she cried. More than ever, she looked so young and frail.
“How old are you?”
Her delicate blonde brows creased together as worry encompassed her features. “I’ll be seventeen in January,” she whispered.
Still so young. Poor thing.
“Alright. For now, I will not press you to send word to your family.”
“Thank you,” she said with a sigh of relief.
“However.” The girl cringed at the single word Grace spoke.
“I ask that you write a letter that may be sent just in case.” She did not intend to be morbid, but childbirth was often dangerous.
She would hate if something happened to this girl and her relatives never knew.
It was one thing for the family not to know, and quite another to know and disinherit and ignore, and… This is not about you.
Mary did not say a word, but simply nodded her head in agreement.
Just then, a knock sounded on the door, followed by one of the downstairs maids peering in. “There’s a gentleman in the hall who wishes to speak with…” Molly let out an exasperated huff. “He said a big word, madam, but I think it’s you he wishes to talk to.”
It wasn’t uncommon for people to arrive at the home requesting to speak with the proprietress, wanting—sometimes demanding—answers regarding loved ones, or others who’d gone missing.
Grace squeezed Mary’s hand. “I will check on you again this evening.” Then she took her leave.
A sense of satisfaction encompassed her being. It was a good day. The decorations were on their way, she felt as if she’d made progress with Mary, and the house was filled with the sweet and spicy scent of baked breads. Nothing could tarnish this…
Edward.
She stopped short as she descended the last few steps and came face to face with the one man in all of England that she never thought she would ever see again.
“Hello, Grace.”