I do not believe you shall be allowed the time to write back to me, but please speak to me when we meet at Chesterport Grange. Please seek me out, I shall find no peace until I speak to you.
Yours truly,
Grace”
Grace’s heart froze as she handed off the letter to the servant she had called. She insisted that he deliver it to Miss Amelia Gardner personally – for she could not risk it being taken up and read by Theodore.
At first, she resolved to remain in the library, so as to not arouse any suspicion by roaming about the house. And yet, she found herself following the man carrying her letter down the stairs and up to the doorway of the manor. She could not be at peace until she could see him disappearing down the driveway, safely away from the prying eyes of Lady Bromley and Miss Harold.
It was all done – the truth in her heart was out and into the world, and on the way towards Bellchurch Court.
~~~~~
Theodore was surprised when Amelia appeared on the doorstep, with all of her boxes and trunks. Her explanation did nothing to settle the unease that had taken hold of him at the sight. She seemed disconsolate, and far too quiet for her normal self, and he worried that she was not telling him everything.
The news of the invitation to the Chesterport Ball was something he received with mixed feelings.
On one side, it would be an excellent opportunity for both of them to become acquainted with more people from the higher levels of society, on the other, it meant that he would have to watch Lady Grace dance with other men, most likely Chesterport himself, and accept that a courtship there was inevitable.
His heart ached at the thought, but there was little he could do – he had no claim on Lady Grace – one unwise kiss in a storm did not constitute any sort of commitment.
The rest of the day passed in rather gloomy packing, for an event which should have filled both of them with enthusiasm. Finally, they were done – the things which could be packed, were, and the things which needed some final adjustment were being dealt with.
They both settled in the parlour, and rather morosely took tea. Outside, the long summer twilight outside cast the world into a gold and blue shadow play.
Theodore found himself with the strongest urge to ride out to the Spectre’s Cloister, to see it with that post sunset light on its stones – it would look, he thought, rather gothic and yet beautiful.
Instead, he turned his eyes back into the room, and selected another biscuit from the tray.
A tap came at the door, and a footman came in – a footman he recognised as coming from Hesterton Park.
“A letter for you, Miss Gardner.”
He proffered it to Amelia, who took it.
“Thank you.”
The footman bowed, and left. Amelia opened the letter, her expression doubtful, and proceeded to read it. As she read, that expression changed, from doubt, to curiosity, to incredulity, to joy. She looked up at Theodore, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I think, brother dear, that you need to know something of what Grace has told me in this letter.”
Chapter Nine
The entire household was turned upside down for the Wellfords’ departure to Chesterport Grange. The carriage was loaded with a multitude of boxes, containing all of Lady Bromley’s finest garb and an extensive selection of hats – as well as the dresses which she had personally handpicked for her daughter in order to render her the shining jewel of the entire Ball.
On repeated occasions during both the dinner on the previous evening, and the light breakfast they’d taken that morning, Lady Bromley had expressed her deep regret for not having the time to have new and fashionable dresses made for both of them. Grace climbed into the carriage and sat by her side, hoping that she might not mention it again, but expecting that she would, repeatedly.
Lord Bromley was the last to come down the steps – his reticence to attend such an event apparent in his late arrival.
Oh, how much Grace wished that she might have her horse with her for the journey, that she might make the best part of it riding alongside the carriage.
The sun was mild and the day was slightly windy, making it an extraordinarily good day for a long ride atop a horse. Of course, Lady Bromley could not conceive of permitting such a thing.
Grace sat with her head up against the window, glancing passively at the vivid greens of the tall arching trees passing by on either side. She had not been down this particular road for many years, and used the novelty of the places they passed to distract her from the terrible things that were about to unfold.
She had not even enquired about Amelia and Theodore and their departure towards Chesterport Grange, although she was certain that her mother would have obtained those details. Her plan was going very well indeed, or so she hoped, apart from her not having had any chance to speak to Amelia.
She had determined not to think of it, and was wondering about the names of the various wildflowers which grew by the road, when her mother spoke to her.
“Oh, do not worry, child.” Grace turned to her, and Lady Bromley smiled. For a moment, she believed that her mother was aware of her true feelings, but she was immediately proven wrong. “I am sure that he will propose to you. Otherwise, the Marchioness would never have hinted at such a thing.”
“As I am aware, she did not outright mention it at all. It seemed a very vague hint, from what you said,” Grace replied morosely.
“Of course, a woman of her sensibilities would never state it bluntly, but the heavy implication of her words can bear no other meaning. Therefore, you have nothing to fear. He will speak to you.”
Lady Bromley smiled again and gave a gentle nod. Grace hardened her resolve, and decided to attempt the truth.
“Indeed, I do not worry about it at all. My anxiety owes itself to a concern for how things will end once I refuse him.”
She resumed her position with her gaze lost on the lush greenery which brushed the carriage as they went by. Lord Bromley chuckled into the sudden silence which had fallen. Lady Bromley, by contrast, after a shocked moment, shrieked with indignation.
“Refuse him! Are you utterly mad? Such a shameful matter may never even be considered. I do believe that you will do no such thing!”
“Shameful? Is my having some choice about who I spend the rest of my life with shameful to you? I had not thought you so cruel, Mother! I shall never love such a bland man as Max Courtney – and his palatial home and title will not suffice to keep me company in the years ahead.” Grace replied with conviction. “I pray that he does not do the imprudent and foolish thing, and decide to consider your appreciation of him as a token of my affection, for nothing could be further from the truth, and he will be faced with sore disappointment if he does so!”
Had she been in a room when the present conversation was taking place, she would have risen and brazenly stormed out, seeking comfort in the soft sheets of her bed, where she might sob her feelings away. Yet, as she was enclosed in the dark moving box of the carriage, all she could do was abruptly turn her head to gaze once more out of the window. She was so distraught that she could barely tell what she was looking at.
Overhead, storm clouds were blowing in, blocking out the summer sky. It seemed appropriate, given her feelings. Her mother, oblivious to the turmoil within Grace, had launched into a further tirade.
“It is that – girl, Amelia! That dreadful girl who has all the manner and sensibility of a wolf, growing up in the forest! She has corrupted you and turned you against me!”
Lady Bromley spoke with such intensity, that Grace was sure that she would work herself into a fainting spell soon.
“I beg to differ, Mother – I am quite capable of coming to my own conclusions, and if I disagree with Amelia, I tell her so. Anyway, Miss Gardner is quite cross with me, likely as cross as you are. She thinks Max is – quite appealing, to be honest. I appreciate the fact that you are trying to afflict someone else with the blame for my behaviour, but I am afrai
d it is mine and mine only.”
Her mother glared at her, as did her father, but they allowed silence to fall, wisely realising that further argument at that time would only upset everyone more.
The next few hours passed miserably for Grace, and she presumed for her mother and father as well.
~~~~~
Amelia and Theodore, accompanied by their mother as chaperone for Amelia, were finding their journey just as unpleasant as Grace’s, but for vastly different reasons.
Their mother happily read as they travelled, and then slipped into a light slumber, leaving them to entertain each other. Yet they could not – for they were loath to discuss their feelings, lest Lady Bellchurch awake and hear the discussion. Neither was willing to believe that the events of the next week might end in their favour, no matter how devoutly they wished it, until it actually happened.
After Amelia had informed Theodore of Lady Grace’s words to her, of the confession she had made, with respect to her affections for Theodore, he had found himself caught between dizzy delight at the fact that she cared for him – perhaps not as much as he cared for her, although her declaration that she would hear a proposal from no other man gave him hope… and deep despair – for he could not imagine how she might escape the determination of both her parents and Lady Chesterport, especially if Lord Chesterport actually wished to marry her.
For that was where the most difficult part of the whole matter lay – Lord Chesterport held the key to everyone’s happiness, especially Amelia’s, and if he chose to throw away that key, to allow that happiness to be lost, then their four lives would all be blighted. And neither Amelia nor Theodore had the slightest indication of what Lord Chesterport actually felt for Amelia.
He watched the countryside pass by, and felt a deep satisfaction when the sunny day gave way to dark storm clouds filled with lightning. The storm outside matched the storm in his heart and soul. It drew his mind back to Lady Grace’s painting and the moments they had shared – would those moments in the storm be all he ever had of her?
He could not know, but as he watched the rain fall, he came to a decision – he would do whatever it took to make Grace his – and if that meant taking Chesterport aside, the moment that they arrived at Chesterport Grange, and demanding an accounting of his feelings towards Amelia, so be it.
That decision seemed to settle his turmoil, and he leaned back, allowing himself to drift towards sleep, as the carriage rolled over the muddy roads.
~~~~~
Amelia felt lost. So much rested on the next few days, yet she did not know, at all, what Lord Chesterport thought of her. He was too much the gentleman to have ever done the slightest thing which might have been interpreted as too forward, or inappropriate, so all she had to pin her heart’s hopes on was the soft look in his eyes when he had regarded her, and the few kind words he had spoken to her.
If, in the end, he did not care for her, if he wanted to marry Grace, Amelia suspected that, no matter what Grace wanted, her parents would push her into marrying him. And that would shatter what was left of Amelia’s heart into tiny pieces, forever.
She had nothing left but hope, and a determination to get Lord Chesterport alone, and declare her true feelings to him at the earliest opportunity, despite how utterly lacking in propriety such a plan might be.
Chapter Ten
Grace and her mother had sunken into an even tenser silence by the time it became apparent that they were drawing close to Chesterport Grange.
When the carriage rolled up in front of the ornate marble steps, and they descended, false smiles were put on, together with false reports on the pleasantness of the journey.
Lord Chesterport bowed low and repeatedly glanced at Grace, unsure, it seemed, whether it was proper for him to speak to her more, or less. Happily for her, he finally settled on less.
As soon as they were beyond the high arching doorway, Grace’s eyes caught the sumptuous glamour of the palatial residence. The opulence of every room, from the grand stairs at the entrance to the excessive and gilded decorations of the parlour, enchanted her – although she was careful not to gape too much at the numerous exquisite things which caught her attention.
Once in the parlour, she was immediately carried off by her mother, in order to introduce her to various gentlemen and ladies who had also arrived for the Ball. Between elegant curtseys and nods towards the ones she already knew, and the exchange of light conversations with the ones she was only now meeting, Grace was absolutely unable to search for the two people she most wished to see at the moment – Amelia and Theodore.
She didn’t even know if they had arrived, and, as she was not currently on speaking terms with her mother, could not properly excuse herself from Lady Bromley’s presence to seek them out – not that her mother would have allowed her to do so anyway, she thought morosely.
With avid eagerness she awaited the evening’s dinner, where she might surely find the Gardners seated at the table. Before that, she had to endure an extensive process of getting ready – and having her mother in her chamber directing the maid with respect to every part of the process, while finding vague ways to remind Grace that her view on marriage was utterly irresponsible.
A view which was not about to change, in the slightest.
The dinner – in itself a majestic affair, presented by an army of servants bringing in elaborate courses to be displayed before the guests in the glaring light of countless candles – was frustrating at best for Grace, who, in accord with her rank, had been seated far from Amelia and Theodore. She therefore had no possible way in which she might contrive to talk to them.
Theodore, however, obviously caught her pained smile, and nodded politely in acknowledgement, but that was all.
She was seated beside Lord Chesterport, as she had expected, and had found his conversation to that point non-existent – if she had not known better, she would have thought that he was as displeased with the seating arrangements as she was. But, most likely, she was imagining that.
“Is something wrong?” Lord Chesterport asked her, no doubt noticing that she had barely touched the food.
“Not at all. I was admiring the beautiful paintings. I find I am quite lacking an appetite when in the presence of such extraordinary art.”
Grace smiled as she lied, and Max seemed immediately convinced.
“Oh, yes. My father was an enthusiastic patron of the arts, as was my grandfather. If you desire, I will show you about the house tomorrow – there is much more to see.”
Max, although his words were completely appropriate, seemed not to actually have very much interest in the matter. His voice was perfectly unemotional, Grace thought, and the real Max, whoever he might be, was sealed safely behind a shield of proper etiquette.
“I would be honoured,” she replied. “Do you think we can have Miss Gardner join us? She has a great appreciation of fine art.”
She waited for Lord Chesterport’s reaction to her suggestion, with a held breath. She had half expected him to be wounded by it, considering that it had been slightly crass of her, and definitely out of the ordinary, to ask such a thing of him – especially in the circumstances.
But to Grace’s surprise, a spark of sincere feeling appeared in Max’s expression.
“Why, certainly!” he responded almost immediately, and then seemed to realise that he had been too forthright with the expression of his thoughts. But that spark of feeling, and his enthusiastic agreement, lit a fire of hope within Grace – could she be lucky enough? Could it be that Max cared for Amelia? Grace prayed that it was so.
“It is settled then.” Grace smiled with geniality, to clear the air of awkwardness which threatened the conversation. “I do look forward to it a great deal.”
And yet the plan they had made did not come to pass the next day. From early in the morning, Lady Bromley was set on keeping Grace apart from both Max and the Gardner siblings. Grace was sure that her intent was to gradually wear down her daughter’s stark c
onvictions and prepare her for answering the inevitable question in the manner in which Lady Bromley wanted her to answer it. To do so, she was obliged to separate Grace from the gentleman in question, along with any other person who might otherwise influence her.
“I do not for the life of me understand why we must linger on the subject for so long,” Grace whispered in an aggravated tone as they were all having tea in one of the Marchioness’ extravagant parlours, “He has made no sign yet of wanting to speak to me in private.”
“Nevertheless, child! I cannot, with a clear conscience, let you out of my sight, when you might spoil all of your prospects and alienate your connections! Imagine the scandal which would ensue!” Lady Bromley replied in an equally intense whisper.
~~~~~
Max had breathed a huge sigh of relief once the dinner was over. Port with the gentlemen had been far easier to manage than making pointless conversation at the table, whilst seated next to Lady Grace. She had been polite, but he had the distinct impression that she was as uninterested in the idea of a marriage between them as he was. A fact which relieved him greatly, for he would not wish to hurt her.
His offer to show her the extensive art collection which was housed in Chesterport Grange had been made on impulse, and he had been utterly delighted when she had suggested that Miss Gardner accompany them. Delighted for two reasons – had Lady Grace wished him to propose to her, he could not imagine her wanting anyone else with them, and the simple fact that it would provide him a chance to be in Miss Gardner’s company.
Yet now, it was already early afternoon of the next day, and Lady Grace had been swept off by her mother for some unknown activity. Max was not pleased. If the tour of the Grange’s art did not happen, he would not have that time with Miss Gardner.
Disconsolate, he took himself to his study, and sat, having no heart for entertaining his other guests in the circumstances. After some time, in which he considered the likely events of the next two days, he reached a conclusion – it was time and past time for him to act on his own behalf. He had spent years bowing to his mother’s wishes, and attempting to be everything that society expected – it had left him feeling hollow and unhappy.
Lord of the Storm: The Common Elements Romance Project (Regency Gothic Book 1) Page 6