Chapter 4
Three days had passed and there was still no sign or word from Edward, and Christmas Eve was tomorrow.
It truly seemed as if he’d disappeared from Grace’s life once again.
She sighed inwardly. No matter how much her heart ached for him, it was for the best. Wishing him here would only delay the inevitable—they could never have a future together.
Besides, she had other things to think about, namely her festive surprise for the residents of the Home.
She made her way to the kitchen, excited to see how the plum pudding she’d made a couple of months ago for Christmas dinner was coming along.
Under the tutelage of Cook, she’d been adding brandy each week to the pudding to ensure the sweet treats of raisins, currants, and dried fruits soaked up the alcohol.
Until her marriage to Tobias, she’d never stepped foot into a kitchen, and even then, she’d spent most of her time bent over a chamber pot, the smell and taste of food not welcome in those early months of pregnancy.
After she lost her baby in the fifth month, nothing held appeal.
It wasn’t until Lady Kenwreck asked her to help run the home that she’d found joy in life again.
She didn’t want to take anything for granted, and now found satisfaction in learning how all aspects of the house functioned.
Although not very proficient in the kitchen, she enjoyed learning how food was prepared. It never ceased to amaze her how simple ingredients, combined together, could produce such tasty results. And as always, Cook was a patient teacher.
“I hope this tastes as good as it smells,” Grace commented as Cook unwrapped the seasonal treat.
“The consistency is perfect. The dried fruits have indeed thoroughly soaked up the alcohol.” Cook broke away several morsels, handing one to Grace. “I’m certain everyone will enjoy their helping of plum pudding come Christmas.”
The moment Grace tasted the pudding, a rush of brandied sweetness stormed her senses. “This is perfect.”
“Well then, I believe your work is done here.”
“Excellent,” Edward said as he entered the room, startling both Grace and Cook.
When did he return?
Her pulse raced at the sight of him clad in a navy-blue coat and tan riding breeches that hugged his perfectly shaped…
Oh dear. And then she made the mistake of meeting his gaze.
The room instantly seemed to warm a dozen degrees in the blink of an eye.
For one brief moment, she was transported back in time when the world had seemed only to exist for them.
“Would you care for a walk, Mrs. Banks?”
Did he just wink at Cook?
“Of course she would,” Cook enthusiastically responded, leaving only two options: accept or be rude.
“I’ll need to fetch my shawl before venturing outside,” Grace said, trying to find some excuse to delay as nervous tension tangled with a simmering desire to have him in her life once again.
Why should she be nervous around Edward?
Because of all your secrets.
Suddenly, Molly rushed into the kitchen. “I have what you requested, Your Grace.” She came to an abrupt halt, her cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
Was the entire staff helping Edward? She would have to speak to them in the very near future. This simply wouldn’t do. She’d—once again—accepted that he was gone from her life, and she did not need any further disruption. The decisions of her past paved her current path.
Edward took the full-length spencer and shawl from the maid, then turned to Grace. “Shall we?”
Within minutes, they were strolling through the garden in companionable silence.
It was a chilly morning, but not unpleasant.
It reminded her of their… No. Don’t think about the past and what was.
Suddenly, she wanted to run inside the house and away from the tingling that constantly surged whenever he was near.
“I suppose you’re wondering where I’ve been?”
She would not admit how curious she’d been, or that she’d questioned his cousin and Mr. Elkins numerous times.
She kept her gaze focused straight ahead on the leafless branches swaying in the distance.
“Lady Winifred has been most anxious about your whereabouts and if you would return by Christmas and—”
Edward stopped, then stepped in front of her, directly facing her. “Were you wondering the same?”
His gaze bore into hers, disrupting her resolve.
Even if he did still have feelings for her, too much had happened.
He was a duke now, and she was… she inwardly sighed.
No, their time had passed. But she was still curious about where he’d gone.
The words had barely formed in her mind, when they escaped her lips. “Where did you run off to?”
“I didn’t run off. I was merely seeing to my family.” He took another step closer. “It was time to set things to rights.” His tone suggested his business had been more than just to do with Lady Winifred.
Oh dear. Heat rose up her cheeks. If she leaned in, perhaps, he would… No. Stay strong.
She took a step back. “And what does that mean? Did you visit your aunt?”
“No. I sent word to her that Winifred has been found. I’m certain that once she receives my letter, she will promptly descend upon us. Hopefully that is still a few days hence, which should give Winifred and Mr. Phelps some time alone to discuss the future.”
“Mr. Phelps?”
“The young man who left Winifred. Turns out that my aunt sent him away, but not before threatening him if he ever returned.”
Grace was stunned, and a little confused. “You went to search for him? Why didn’t you tell anyone where you were going?”
“I wanted to ensure that Winifred’s name was kept off the tongues of gossips, and I also wanted to know if Phelps felt the same as Winifred.
I didn’t want her to suffer even more with a second refusal.
It’s obvious that she’s still in love with him, and based on the sequence of events, I do not believe Phelps had knowledge of her condition. ”
Oh. Guilt pierced through Grace’s heart.
Three years ago, she had been in similar circumstances.
Edward had left, and there had been no one she could talk to, to confide in.
She’d been so confused and utterly alone.
Her brother was in America, and her mother…
well… Her spirit still had not recovered from the disgust her mother had spewed that distant day.
She closed her eyes as her recollections rushed through her mind.
“Mother?” Grace’s body had trembled as her parent glanced up from her needlework. The older woman’s harsh gaze slashed through her confidence. “I…I was wondering if you could tell me what happens when a woman is with child?”
Mother tossed aside her embroidery and, getting up, stormed to her daughter’s side. “What have you done?” Her eyes narrowed and her voice turned cold. “Are you with child?”
Grace swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “I…”
Somehow, with that single word, her mother knew exactly what trouble Grace found herself in.
“How could you do this to me? Do you not realize the gossip it will bring?” Mother squared her shoulders, then paced several times before announcing, “You shall be sent to the country. The child will be given away and—”
“No! You cannot take his baby from me.” Despite everything, she still loved Edward and would not be parted with their child.
A calculating glare transfixed Mother’s features. “Very well.” There was a long pause before she continued. “I will arrange for you to be married to Lord Olland. He’s been in search of a young bride. I am certain he will be—”
“A seventy-year-old widower? No!” Grace stomped her foot as tears streamed down her cheeks. She’d hoped to find understanding and compassion in her parent, but she’d been a fool, as always. Mother did not care for anyone or anything, save her standing within the ton.
“Then you will be disowned, and no decent society will entertain you or your bastard child.” Never breaking her glare, her mother closed the distance. “The choice is yours. But know this, regardless of your decision, from this day forward, I have no daughter.”
A hawk’s cry shrilled overhead, bringing Grace back to reality.
“I’m sorry,” she sniffled, trying to hide her emotions. “I need to return to the house.”
“Grace,” Edward said as he blocked her path. “Why won’t you talk to me? I’m not leaving Rose Park until I know exactly what happened nearly three years ago.”
“I cannot…” One moment she was protesting, and the next she was in his arms, his lips exploring her mouth, bringing her to life. Good heavens, but she missed him.
He pulled back, his breath caressing her cheek. “Grace—”
An icy chill rippled across the garden, reminding her of her transgressions. “It’s too late for us.” She pulled away, creating distance. Even if he accepted the truth of what had happened, of what she’d done, the gossips would be ruthless. She was so tired of being the target of rumors.
“You’re wrong, Grace. It is never too late.” He offered his arm. “And I am going to prove it to you.”
She stared at his arm, fighting the urge to run away.
She didn’t know how long she could fight him and the desire he’d stirred.
But one thing was for certain, she could not run away again.
She was better than that. She sucked in her breath and placed her hand on his arm.
Thankfully, he did not say a word as they returned to the house.
Grace felt like a coward as she snuck into the library, hoping to find several moments’ reprieve before the evening’s obligations.
She should be preparing the bows for the Christmas dinner table decorations, she thought to herself as she pulled a book from the shelf, not with the intent of reading, but as a distraction in case someone dared disrupt her peace—not that she felt any at the moment, especially not after that kiss she’d shared with Edward.
Oh dear, it had made her knees go weak and warmed her with memories of the first time they’d made love.
His kiss had been so thoughtful, so tender that time, as he’d laid her down on a moonlit blanket.
And when he’d lowered his body over hers, flesh against flesh, man against woman, something intense had flared within.
Up until that moment, her entire being had seemed to be filled with waiting.
Waiting for that moment with him, when her body melted against his, changing her forever.
The pleasure had been pure and explosive, shattering her into a thousand glowing stars. And when they were both sated, he’d kept her within the circle of his arms and promised to love her for all eternity.
“I thought I would find you hiding in here,” Beata said, interrupting her delicious musings of happier times.
Grace put a cool hand to her face to soothe her flaming cheek. “I’m not hiding, just…”
“Hiding.” Beata sat down beside her on the sofa. “I know you. I know what you’ve suffered. How you continue to suffer, to deny yourself—”
“Beata.”
“Don’t Beata me,” her dearest friend scolded. “Why won’t you let happiness into your life?”
“I have plenty of happiness now.” It was true. The Home had given her an existence in a cruel world where gossip crushed and destroyed hopes and dreams.
“You could have more. You could have—”
She met Beata’s gaze and shook her head. “It’s not possible.” The memories of her time with Edward would have to suffice and sustain her.
“I see the way you look at each other. I think you’re still in love with him, and there’s no doubt in my mind that he is still in love with you. There are no obstacles and—”
“No obstacles?” Grace started with a cynical chuckle. “There are plenty.”
The moment Beata crossed her arms, she knew an argument was forthcoming. “The only obstacles are the ones you’ve conjured in that very active imagination of yours,” Beata said firmly.
“Let me remind you of the facts.” Grace emphasized the latter.
“The ton shunned me when I ran off with the son of a shopkeeper, and even after Tobias’ death, never fully accepted me again.
It was only because of my brother and sister-in-law that I was invited to a select handful of social events.
Even then, the whispers and rumors that followed me were horrible.
” Grace shook her head. “He is a duke now. No matter what happened in the past, I could not bear to encase him in the scandal that’s certain to follow.
He deserves more, better. Gossip never goes away. You know that better than anyone.”
“The least you could do is talk to him.”
“And tell him what? That I was pregnant with his child, then married another because I was too scared to write to him after learning about Miss Bisbrown. That I was utterly alone when I lost our baby, and that my late husband was the worst sort of drunk who would constantly raise a hand to me.”
“Perhaps not in those exact words, but yes, something to that effect.” Beata’s no-nonsense attitude was usually most welcome, but in this case…
“Beata,” her tone softened, “It’s too late.
I’ve accepted this new life, and I am quite content.
” If she said the words enough, she would start to believe them.
She was quite good at pretending. She’d feigned being happy with Tobias, and even after he died, she continued the lie.
She inwardly sighed. She would simply go on pretending.
The mistakes of her youth were hers to bear for the rest of her life.
“I just want to enjoy Christmastide with the women of the Home.”