Discovering Grace: An Inglewood Romance

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Discovering Grace: An Inglewood Romance Page 4

by Britton, Sally


  A bend in the road ahead. At the speed they went, alongside each other as they were, it would not be a safe turn. “Hope, slow down,” she yelled.

  Neither woman listened nor yielded. “She will stop first,” Hope shouted, leaning forward in her seat. “See if she doesn’t!”

  A closed carriage appeared before them, coming their direction and moving around the bend that already promised disaster. Grace opened her mouth, to reason with her sister, but it was too late. Instead, she screamed and grabbed at the reins herself.

  Hope pulled at them herself, trying to stop her ponies. They tossed their heads and skidded, pulling to one side. Their phaeton went sideways on one wheel for an alarming moment, then crashed back down to all four wheels, a horrible crack sounding before the entire conveyance tilted heavily to the side. Something had broken.

  Heart slamming against her ribs as if to escape the calamity, Grace could hardly breathe. She had hold of the reins with one hand and her seat with the other, her fingers gripping each so hard she did not think she would ever be able to unbend them.

  A shrill scream brought her attention forward in time to see the other phaeton tilt sideways, and overturn into a ditch, the ponies’ screaming covering any sound made by the people inside.

  The oncoming carriage pulled to the side, its horses stamping and heaving, the driver struggling to obtain control of them.

  Grace darted out of their phaeton where it listed to the side and hurried across the road. Her bonnet flew off as she ran, her shoes hitting the ground with force in her haste.

  “Lady Olivia,” she shouted, running into the ditch. “Lord Neil!”

  “We are here,” the man’s voice shouted. The phaeton shook. Then she heard him muttering. “Crawl out, Livy.”

  Hope came stumbling down the ditch and then hurried past, on her way to check on the whimpering ponies. The other carriage driver appeared beside Grace, his face pale and his cheeks puffing with his breath.

  “Help me lift here, miss,” he directed, pointing to the side of the overturned vehicle before grabbing it himself. Grace took hold where he showed and added her meager strength to his greater effort in lifting the vehicle. They managed to create a few more inches clearance, and Lady Olivia’s head appeared, her hair in her face and her bonnet hanging behind her. She crawled out, her gloves digging for purchase in the ground. Her face was covered in dirt and tears.

  Lord Neil came out next, sliding out on his back and pushing with his legs. Bile rose in Grace’s throat when she saw why he did not crawl as his sister had. One of his arms had been gashed open, the fabric of his coat split to reveal a terrible red slash of blood and flesh down his forearm. He held it against his chest with his other arm, protecting the injury.

  The carriage driver cursed, without apology. “We need to get you to a doctor, sir.” Then he stood and surveyed the women. “Is anyone else hurt?”

  Sitting in the dirt with her arms wrapped around herself, Lady Olivia shook her head. Grace did the same. Hope shouted from the front of the wreckage, “One of the ponies is limping, but otherwise they seem well.”

  “Lord Neil’s arm is injured,” Grace shouted, aware her sister had not seen it. She swallowed and went to Lady Olivia, holding her hands out to help her up. Face pale and eyes unfocused, Lady Olivia allowed the assistance.

  “Mr. Harvey,” a voice shouted from the carriage. “What has happened?”

  The carriage driver put his arms beneath Lord Neil and lifted him to his feet. “An accident, my lady. We need to get this young man to the doctor.”

  Grace put her arm around Lady Olivia’s waist and guided her across the road to the carriage, following the coachman. Hope appeared at Lady Olivia’s other side, her blue eyes wide with worry.

  “Oh, Lady Olivia, I am so sorry,” Hope whispered.

  The dazed young woman did not answer. Grace shook her head at her sister. “Now is not the time.”

  The carriage belonged to a baroness making her way through the county to visit a friend. The woman brought the injured man and his sister inside the carriage, but Hope and Grace insisted on remaining with the frightened ponies. After promising to send help, the carriage went on its way.

  Grace and Hope barely spoke to one another, the seriousness of what had happened, the tragedy that nearly occurred, weighing down their spirits and words. They removed the ponies, all four, from the phaetons and released them into a meadow near the road. Their phaeton’s axel had broken, so they could not go home even had they wished to. Then they sat on a rise on the other side of the ditch, away from the wreckage.

  “I am sorry,” Hope whispered after they had sat silent for a time. “I do not know what came over me.” The last word was accompanied by a choked sob.

  Wrapping her arm around her sister, Grace sniffed back her own tears and tried to stop from trembling. “Oh, Hope.” A sense of foreboding stole into her chest and she shuddered more violently. “I hope Lord Neil will be all right.”

  They waited in silence for help to come.

  Chapter 3

  Never, in all of Grace’s years of witnessing her father lecture her sister, had she seen him turn the shade of red he was as he paced and shouted. His manner was normally subdued, as he was not given to a quick temper or shows of passion. Hope’s actions had apparently broken the dam of his patience at last.

  “—And all of this but days before you are given the reward of your life with the Carlburys.” He ended with a shout, throwing his hands in the air. “Have you no brains, child? I have warned you about racing, for your reputation and safety. At the first opportunity you disregard everything I cautioned you against. And for what? Pride. Stubborn, inflexible, pride.”

  Grace dared not draw attention to herself by so much as shifting in her seat. She was in a chair in the library, her mother stood next to the hearth with pale face and pursed lips, and Hope stood next to Mama. Hope’s cheeks were bright red, but with shame rather than anger, and her arms were wrapped about her waist.

  “I am sorry, Papa. I did not mean—”

  “Sorry?” he interrupted her, shaking his head. “You do not know the meaning of the word, given the number of times I have heard it, only for you to go about doing as you please. You have shamed our family with your conduct.” He stopped pacing and glared directly at her, his nostrils flaring and his posture rigid. “But that I have born before. What I cannot countenance, what I absolutely abhor the thought of, is that you have caused harm to another person. Lord Neil’s injury, should it become infected, could change his life entirely. Would you have him lose his arm as Sir Isaac lost his?”

  Grace winced. The reminder of their friend, Isaac Fox, and his lost limb still pained her.

  “You endangered yourself, your sister, our neighbors, a stranger on the road, a number of animals—” He broke off and approached Hope, his arms spread in a helpless gesture. “What, precisely, can I do to be certain you understand the seriousness of your actions? How can I trust that you will not act so foolishly again?”

  Hope’s lips parted as though to make her answer, her words trembling in the air. “I have learned my lesson, Papa. I will never act so thoughtlessly again.”

  The silence stretched as her father stared at Hope, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. He looked to Mama who only raised her eyebrows, then he put a hand over his mouth and turned to regard Grace. “Grace. You were there with her. She could not be stopped?”

  It would be easy to tell him how she had tried, how Hope had ignored her pleas, but Grace would not bring any more of his ire down upon her sister.

  “It all happened so quickly, Papa,” she answered, raising her shoulders in a slow shrug.

  Papa narrowed his eyes at her. “I have one daughter who shows no restraint and another who shows too much.” He went to the window, shaking his head. “This could not happen at a worse time. Your mother must leave to tend to your aunt—”

  “Aunt Isabelle is unwell?” Grace asked, sitting upright ag
ain. She turned to her mother.

  “She is doing poorly at the moment,” Mama said quietly, the strain upon her face unrelenting. “I have agreed to go to her. I leave in the morning.”

  Hope’s face paled. “Oh, Mama.” She reached out, laying a hand on her mother’s arm.

  Mama patted Hope’s hand with her own. “I am certain all will be well. Isabelle has always been a strong, capable woman.”

  “I have come to my decision,” Papa said, drawing all attention back to himself. “I will not allow Hope to be rewarded for her inability to heed her parents. I cannot seem to impress upon you with my words,” he stared fixedly at Hope, “that you must correct your conduct. Therefore, I will act. Hope, you are not going to the West Indies now or ever. Not so long as you remain under my care.”

  Grace put her hand to her throat to stifle her gasp, watching as Hope’s expression crumpled from worry to despair.

  “No,” she whispered, covering her mouth with both hands. Her next words came out choked, almost indecipherable. “Please, Papa. It is all I have wanted, and Irene expects—”

  “Your sister will go in your place,” he said abruptly, cutting off her protests. “She will have your prize, the Carlburys will not be inconvenienced, and perhaps Grace will learn what it is to be confident enough to stand up to her own sister.” He turned his hard glare in Grace’s direction.

  A voyage to the Caribbean, into the unknown reaches of islands and ocean? Grace shuddered. “Papa, I do not want—” She snapped her mouth shut, her protest unfinished, when he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

  “You will both abide by my wishes.” He pointed to the door. “Hope will write a letter, this very instant, explaining the change in plans. It will go to the Carlburys tonight. Then you girls will help your mother prepare for her trip and that is an end to it.”

  Hope lowered her head and rushed from the room, a sob breaking from her as she crossed the library’s threshold. Grace stayed in her chair, watching her parents. Papa had crossed the room to Mama and wrapped his arms around her, tucking her against him. Mama’s eyes were sad and she buried her face in Papa’s shoulder.

  Grace stood, averting her gaze, and left the room. In her thoughts, all she saw was a vast ocean of empty, unforgiving blue water stretching away from her.

  She went to the stairs, going to her mother’s room to help with the packing as she was bid.

  Because Hope had gone too far, had tried to prove herself better than Lady Olivia, they were both facing punishment. Truly, Grace could think of nothing worse than being forced from her home into the unknown, on an adventure in a land foreign to everything she knew. Fear latched to her heart. To lose Hope had been a difficult enough situation to bear. To lose her home and everyone she knew?

  Jacob’s gentle aspect came to mind, but she swiftly pushed it aside. Letting any thoughts of him influence her decision would be foolish. They were friends, and given the way he often stared after Hope, they would likely never be more.

  For once Grace had to put herself first in her thoughts. She could not sail across an ocean into uncertainty. It was not her nature and the furthest thing from her desires. Somehow, she must change her father’s mind or….

  An idea came to her, as suddenly as a bolt of lightning falls from the sky.

  Grace said very little the remainder of the evening, though she watched her mother’s expression with a heavy heart, and she could not ignore Hope’s tear-stained face. With her lips pressed shut, she stayed in her thoughts, making her arguments and plans. As she considered the consequences to the action she would take, Grace realized something that nearly made her grin when she slipped into her bed that night.

  Perhaps she and Hope were not so different after all.

  Chapter 4

  Mrs. Barnes rarely insisted that her children attend her when guests came visiting. But Jacob and his sisters, Elizabeth and Mary, were all present today while they bid the Carlburys farewell. It was not every day a prominent family left for voyages, after all.

  The quarter-hour visit had not been extraordinary, and though Jacob wished to listen to their plans for Hope’s sake, they did not say a word about her. Not until they prepared to take their leave.

  Miss Irene Carlbury was bidding his sisters goodbye, taking their hands up in hers briefly, when she suddenly sighed. “Please, both of you, do visit Hope once we have left. She is gravely disappointed that she will not be joining us.”

  Jacob stiffened, hardly believing his ears.

  “She is not?” Elizabeth asked, sounding as surprised as he felt. “Why ever not? I thought it was all decided.” He would have to be certain to save her an extra tart for dessert, asking the questions he most wished to ask.

  “Oh, did you not hear of the incident?” Miss Carlbury asked, looking between his sisters in a most dramatic fashion. “There was that terrible carriage accident, and then Mr. Everly said Hope’s punishment would be to remain at home. Grace will accompany me instead.”

  Jacob heard no more, too busy with his tumbling thoughts.

  Grace, on her way to the Caribbean? Such a thing struck him as almost cruel. Grace was quiet, unimposing, and happy with her place in her home and community. Hope possessed a wild spirit and a wandering heart, and being sentenced to remain home after setting her eyes so firmly on the horizon would be like clipping the wings of a hawk.

  Mr. Everly had somehow managed to punish both his daughters in the most excruciating manner possible.

  Jacob barely registered the Carlburys’ departure enough to bow to them when they left. Mary and Elizabeth followed them from the room, still chatting about the excitement of the Carlburys’ plans.

  Hope remained at home for the foreseeable future. He had not lost her to an adventure beyond his ability to travel. Indeed, she would be home and heartbroken without her sister, her closest confidante. Though knowing how she would grieve pricked his heart, Jacob could not help but realize that her change in circumstances benefited his cause.

  Jacob retook his seat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped before him as he pondered on the situation.

  He had been praying for some time for help in securing Hope’s heart, if she was the right woman for him. He had nearly given up on such a possibility when he learned she would be gone for a year, off on an exciting journey far from him. Perhaps his prayers had been answered, though not in the way he had hoped. The carriage accident—he had heard about Lord Neil’s injury. Though they were not his friends, Jacob could not wish such harm upon anyone.

  Mother’s voice penetrated his thoughts. “I know exactly what you are thinking, young man.”

  Jacob blinked and looked up. She stood directly in front of him, her hands clasped and arms loose before her.

  “Do you?” he asked, remaining in his hunched position. “And what do you have to say on the matter?”

  Her lips turned down and she released a deep sigh. “I think it unkind to send Grace away. I cannot imagine she desired it. But her father has done what he thinks best. Hope will be rather upset, and likely so for some time. If you wish to be a comfort to her, be so as a friend first. Tread carefully.”

  He tilted his head to one side at that. “What do you mean?”

  His mother bent double, bringing her eyes level with his. She studied him, the wrinkles on either side of her eyes deepening. “You have a good heart, Jacob. You are about to take orders to be a man of God first and foremost. Approach Miss Everly with compassion, because she is your friend. Be careful about making any declarations too soon. She has been hurt, after all, and disappointed.”

  “She will need time,” Jacob agreed with a nod. “I can give her that.”

  “Good.” His mother’s expression did not relax as he thought it would. If anything, her frown grew deeper as she straightened her posture. “Poor Grace. I cannot imagine how she is taking this decision. Let us hope the Carlburys will be mindful of her. She hasn’t the spirit for adventure her sister posse
sses.”

  Jacob leaned back in his chair, watching his mother carefully. “You have known the Everlys for a long time, but you have never tried to encourage me to pursue their daughters. Come to think of it, you have never encouraged any of us to make matches. Why is that?”

  His mother’s smile finally reappeared, though it was soft. “My dear boy, I know my children and I know your hearts. You will each find your way to a match and happiness in time. Why should I worry and fret over something that is not my choice, but yours?" She gave his shoulder a pat. “Do not brood for long, dear. You have an appointment with Mr. Spratt today, do you not?”

  Jacob rose and straightened his coat. “I do. Thank you for the reminder.” He checked the time on the mantel clock. “He is to show me the parish records today.”

  “I am proud of you for working so hard to be worthy of the position.” She gave him a fond kiss on the cheek. “You had best be on your way.”

  Though he went to see Mr. Spratt, Jacob’s thoughts remained on the Everly household and his two friends. Hopefully, with their change in plans, he would not be alone in the vicarage for long.

  Chapter 5

  The clock in the hall chimed the hour, and Grace counted each note carefully. After the twelfth bell, she slipped from her bed and wrapped her favorite green shawl around her. She did not bother with house slippers, as she did not have far to go. Hope’s room was just across the hall. She did not take a candle with her either, given her familiarity with the house and the clandestine mission she undertook.

  Entering Hope’s room without knocking, Grace quietly padded up to the bed before she whispered, “Hope? Are you awake?”

  Her sister immediately sat up. “Grace.” Her voice was muffled by tears and sorrow. “Are you all right?”

  Grace crawled onto her sister’s bed and made her way to snuggle under the sheets beside her. “I am quite well, thank you. Have you been crying long?”

 

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