“I have adored you and courted you as ardently as a man can do!”
She struggled to free herself, but Barrett easily pushed her up against the wall and pinned her there. “Do me the honor of telling mehow you can turn me away so easily, Miss Holcomb. Is my fortune so paltry? Is that it? I will give you everything—”
“Stop,”she cried, the tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. She turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut. “I beg you to stop!”
“I willnot stop! Good God, Grace, do you not see my heart laid bare before you? Do you not understand how much I love you? Is it so much to ask that you at least do me the courtesy of trampling my heart for something more profound than a lack of fortune?”
She did not move, did not look at him.
“Grace!”he exclaimed, shaking her lightly. “Do you feel nothing for me? Are you in the habit of allowing men to court you without regard for their feelings?”
She suddenly cried out, a keening cry of grief as tears streaked down her cheeks. She shoved hard against him. “No,no !”
“Why have you so completely disregarded mine?”
“I haven’t! God knows I haven’t!”
“But you have!” he insisted angrily. “Youare. ”
“How could I?” she shrieked. “How could I disregard your feelings? Ilove you!”
Her response did nothing to satisfy him; if anything, it confused him more. He let go of her, stumbling back as she slid down the wall to her haunches, crying uncontrollably. Several moments passed as he tried to catch his breath, tried to lift his head from the fog of crippling disappointment. At last he reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a handkerchief, squatted down before her, and pressed it in her hand. “If you love me,” he said hoarsely, almost choking on the words, the hope, the dream, “then why can we be no more than friends?”
“My father willnever allow it!” she said as she dabbed at her eyes.
“How do you know unless we ask? I am a good man, Grace. Granted, I do not have the wealth your father has, but I work hard, and I—”
“Oh please!” she cried. “It is not the size of your fortune!” She looked at him, her eyes flashing with anger. “You are amerchant, Barrett! You are not a lord, nor have you any hope of becoming one. I have been groomed since I was a child to be the wife of a titled man, to move among theton. Not to marry someone intrade. ”
She said it as if to marry a merchant was to marry the lowest form of humanity, and it wounded him deeply. “Yourfather is in trade—”
“It is not the same,” she said sharply. “His wealth has opened some doors.”
Barrett was so stunned by the cold hard truth that he fell back. He didn’t know exactly what he’d imagined, but he’d never imaginedthis from Grace. “What of love?” he asked. “Has that no meaning?”
“No,” she said, and covered her eyes with the handkerchief.
With that, his heart shattered. He rose up to his full height. “I see,” he said coldly. “Amerchant or a man intrade may be allowed to adore you and bare his soul to you, but he is not worthy of your precious, wealthy hand. What a fool I have been. I thought it was your father who pushed this on you. But youshare his opinion.”
“Barrett—”she said, reaching for him.
He moved out of her reach. “Thank you for having enlightened me. I will not burden you again, Grace. I will leave on this evening’s coach to Leeds.” He dropped the necklace on the ground at her feet. “If you had given me a gift, I swear to you that I would have gotten down on my knees and thanked God that you thought enough of me to give it.”
Sobs racked her body.“Barrett!” she cried again, but it was too late—he was moving down the steps, taking them two and three, fury filling the space in which his shattered heart had once beat.
Twelve
The wind had picked up as Grace made her way home, yet she scarcely felt the cold of it. She could have walked into the Thames until the water covered her head and not realized it, so sick at heart was she for what had happened with Barrett.
She had done the only thing she could do, had responded the only way she knew how. Mrs. Harris had been very specific about accepting gifts, and her father had been more than specific about what he expected of her.
Yet she could not bear the look on Barrett’s face when she had refused his gift. She could not bear the pain in his expression, the wounded look in his eyes, particularly since she had felt it so acutely herself.
She would have liked nothing more than to have given herself completely to Barrett. But how could she make him understand that if she did, she would give up her family for it?
When she reached her home, the butler took her cloak and bonnet. Barrett’s gift she held tightly in her hand; her drawers, she’d left behind. He politely ignored the state of her hair and her tearstained cheeks as he handed her a folded vellum. “Mrs. Wells has gone out,” he said.
“Thank you,” Grace whispered, and took the note to her chamber.
It was a lovely note from Sir William, relaying his eagerness to see her tomorrow afternoon, the sort of note to make a young woman swoon. But it only made Grace cry more. Had she met Sir William before this turn in London, she would be over the moon. But she hadn’t—she had fallen hopelessly in love with a man in trade.
She did not come down for supper, preferring instead to cry herself to sleep, refusing to let Mrs. Wells in, even when she threatened to send for Grace’s father. When she awoke the next morning, she cried again, and when she had cried herself dry, she rang for Betty. “Is there any note today?” she asked weakly as Betty poured water for her bath.
“No, miss,” Betty said with a sympathetic smile.
Grace went about her toilet without conscious thought—all she could see or hear or think of was Barrett. By the time Sir William arrived, she had composed herself. With a serene countenance, she was prepared to accept his offer. Mrs. Wells, so thankful Grace had come out of her room, even allowed her to receive him alone, choosing to stay in the adjoining sitting room with the door open.
Sir William complimented her on her cream-colored velvet dress, saying she looked beautiful. She invited him to sit, and he sat next to her, inquiring about her health and her day. Her answers were polite but vague.
Then he took her hand in his and turned it over, looking at her palm before lifting it and kissing it. It was perhaps the most intimate thing he’d done since this courtship had begun.
It only made her think of the intimacy she had shared with Barrett…an act that still radiated hot through her now and made her blush.
“Miss Holcomb, I am quite certain you have recognized the high regard in which I hold you.”
No, no, I don’t want to hear this, please, I don’t want to hear it…
He smiled, his eyes dropping to her bosom for the first time that Grace had ever noticed, and she suppressed a shudder of revulsion. She couldn’t imagine his touch, couldn’t imagine his kiss. She couldn’t imagine anyone but Barrett.
“I have a gift for you,” he said, raising his gaze again. “A small token of my esteem, as it were.” He reached into his breast pocket and extracted a small package, wrapped in red silk cloth and tied with a red ribbon. He pressed it into her palm.
“Oh,” Grace said, looking down at the package. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say nothing, Grace,” he said, using her given name for the first time. “I hope only that you enjoy it.”
Her hands were shaking as she pulled the ribbon. Sir William chuckled at her clumsiness, mistaking it for maidenly jitters. She forced a smile and unfolded the silk cloth to see a very large round topaz, surrounded by a circle of diamonds, on a gold chain. “Oh my,” she murmured.
“Egyptians say topaz was colored by the golden glow of the sun god. It reminded me of your eyes,” Sir William said proudly. “If I may…you have lovely eyes.”
The necklace was very expensive and very thoughtful. But looking at it, she realized the
cross she wore around her neck meant so much more to her. Whatever his occupation, whatever his background, Barrett Ad-laine loved her and she loved him. To marry for anything less than that—to marry for jewels and a title and a fortune—seemed insane at that moment.
“Is something wrong?” Sir William asked, his smile fading. “I thought you would find it pleasing—”
“Oh, I do,” she said and looked up at him, feeling a strength she’d never felt in her life. “It is…it is lovely, sir. But I cannot accept it.”
“What?” he said, clearly surprised as she placed the necklace into his hand.
“I cannot accept it, for to do so would imply that there is more to our friendship than there possibly can be.”
He blinked with shock, glanced down at the necklace, then at Grace again. “Grace, do you realize what you are saying?” he asked quietly. “I have courted you properly for weeks. This is what everyone expects—it is whatI expect.”
She nodded. “It is what I expected as well, Sir William. And as much as I have come to value your good opinion and your friendship…I cannot love you. My heart belongs to another.”
He reared back as if she had slapped him, his hand closing tightly into a balled fist around the necklace. “I am astounded,” he said flatly. “I thought we understood one another.”
“As did I. I cannot apologize enough to you, sir. I did what I thought was expected of me, but in truth, I was fighting my feelings. I had not realized until this moment how…howardently I feel about another,” she said, fingering the cross. “I never meant you harm, Sir William. I am very sorry if I have.”
He said nothing; the silence in the room was deafening. “No,” he said at last, his voice weary. “I am very disappointed. But I cannot fault you for being true to your feelings.” He stood up, thrust the necklace into his pocket. “May I at least have the honor of knowing which gentleman has won your heart?”
Grace rose to her feet and said, “Mr. Barrett Adlaine of Leeds.”
He gave her a curt nod. “Then there is nothing left but for me to wish you much happiness.”
“Thank you,” she said, and held her breath as he turned and left the room.She had done it. She had made her feelings known, had spoken for herself, had finally, for the first time in her life, considered herown wishes before the wishes of anyone else. Now all she had to do was find Barrett, beg his forgiveness, and hope that he would see her through the horrible day her father disowned her and tossed her out on the street.
She hurried to the foyer before the door had closed completely behind Sir William. “My cloak,” she said low to a footman.
“Miss Holcomb?” Mrs. Wells called from top of the stairs, her voice full of excitement.
Grace closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that the footman would return with her cloak before Mrs. Wells could make it down the grand staircase.
“Miss Holcomb! Do you not hear me?” she called again. Fortunately, the footman had reentered the foyer with Grace’s cloak. She rushed to meet him, grabbed the cloak, and turned and looked at Mrs. Wells.
“I refused him, Mrs. Wells. I hope my father does not fault you for it.”
“What?”Mrs. Wells howled. “What on earth are you saying? Don’t you dare step one foot out that door!Miss Holcomb! Don’t youdare step out that door!” she shrieked as Grace ran to the door and out.
She had only moments, she felt certain, before a footman could be persuaded to detain her, and she thought frantically what to do. She had no idea where Lord Dewar resided, but she knew who might.
She walked as quickly as propriety would allow the four long blocks to Lady Middleton’s house, chanting a prayer with each step that Ava was home.
Not only was Ava home, but she and her husband, the Marquis of Middleton, were standing in the courtyard of their palatial home, preparing to board a carriage when Grace came striding through the gates.
“Grace!” Ava said, smiling, obviously surprised. “What a pleasant surprise! I should think you’d be at the Montgomery assembly by now.”
“My lord,” Grace said, dipping a barely discernible curtsy to Lord Middleton before turning her attention to Ava. “Ava, where does Lord Dewar live?”
“What?” Ava asked laughingly.
“Lord Dewar. I’m quite serious, Ava. Imust see Mr. Adlaine before he leaves for Leeds, and he is a guest of Lord Dewar!”
Ava’s smiled faded. “But Grace, darling…you can’tpossibly call on him at Dewar’s. It is the height of impropriety.”
“I don’t care a fig, Ava. Just tell me where he lives! Mr. Adlaine is leaving tonight, and I absolutely must speak with him!” she said frantically.
Ava looked at her husband, who stepped forward and put his hand on Grace’s arm. “It would appear that Miss Holcomb is in need of assistance, my love,” he said kindly. “We shall escort her to Dewar’s.”
“Thank you,” Grace said, and moved to step into the carriage before she was invited. She didn’t care how rudely she was behaving; she had no time to waste.
Naturally, on the ride to Dewar’s, Ava extracted the whole ugly truth from Grace. The gift Barrett had given her, her refusal to accept it, Sir William’s gift and her refusal to accept that one as well, her escape from Mrs. Wells. Ava exclaimed at every turn, and even Lord Middleton looked quite wrapped up in her tale.
Unfortunately, neither Mr. Adlaine nor Lord Dewar was at home when Lord Middleton inquired, and the butler was not entirely sure where either of them had gone. That prompted quite a discussion in the carriage—Grace wanted to look for him, but Lord Middleton calmly put his foot down. He explained to Grace that while she thought her situation was rather dire, it did not compare to how dire it might become were she to knock on every door asking after a certain gentleman. It was best, he suggested, for her to either accompany them to the Montgomery assembly or return home.
With a vision of Mrs. Wells in mind, Grace opted for the assembly. But she could scarcely summon a smile.
“Poor Grace,” Ava said as the carriage moved along toward Piccadilly, where the assembly would be held in a hall. “I cannot bear to see you so sad.”
Sad, broken, dejected—frankly, Grace didn’t want to live at that moment. “I love him,” she said, her eyes welling with tears again. “I love him desperately, and I shall never love another, and I dideverything quite wrong. I know you don’t think him a proper match Ava, but—”
“Why on earth would you say so?” Ava exclaimed.
“You said I shouldn’t allow him to court me!”
Ava reached across the carriage and squeezed Grace’s hand. “I said you could not allow him to court you if you intended to accept Sir William’s offer,” she reminded her. “And I was right. But Grace…if youlove Mr. Adlaine, then there really is no other choice, is there?”
Grace looked from Ava to her husband, who smiled at his wife. “I must agree with my wife, Miss Holcomb. She and I have learned this valuable lesson in a rather difficult way…haven’t we, darling?”
Ava laughed and looked up at her husband with such love and admiration that Grace’s heart wrenched. “We have indeed, sir.”
She would never know that sort of love, Grace thought miserably as the two of them smiled at one another. She’d never know what it felt like to look at a man and feel pride and love and know that she couldn’t bear to be away from him. She would never know—
Her eye caught sight of a man’s back. Tall and broad-shouldered, a bit of dark blond hair peeking out from beneath his hat, a bag in his hand.“Stop!” she shouted, startling the Middletons out of their wits. But Lord Middleton called up to stop, and the carriage shuddered to a halt, flinging Grace almost onto Ava’s lap.
“What on earth?” Ava cried.
“He’s there!” Grace cried, pointing out the window.
Ava instantly put her face to the window. “It’s a public coach station,” she said. “Darling, do go and stop him,” she said to her husband, but Grace had already reached the door hand
le and had flung it open.
“Grace!”Ava cried.
Somewhere deep in Grace’s mind was the notion that to run after a man would ruin her reputation, but she ignored Ava and jumped down, her need to apologize to Barrett far outweighing any rule of propriety. She was oblivious to the people at the station who gaped at her as if she were a madwoman. She didn’t notice several ornate carriages across the street, lined up to release their riders at the public hall where the Montgomery affair would be hosted. She didn’t hear Ava call, or see Lord Middleton vault after her for that matter—she saw nothing but Barrett’s back moving toward the ticket window.
“Barrett!” she shouted. He turned halfway, looking curiously about, but did not see her.“Barrett!” she shouted again, waving her arm.
He saw her then, his gaze traveling the length of her and up again, looking quite disgusted. Grace dodged through the crowd to reach him nonetheless, her heart pounding, her palms damp, and with absolutely no idea how she would say what she wanted to express.
He spoke first. “Grace,” he said, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have come here.”
“I had to.”
“There is nothing left to say. Go back to your friends.”
He turned as if he meant to walk away, and Grace unthinkingly grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “Don’t go,” she said. “Please—I…I should be taken to the Tower and flogged, I know, for I wasbeastly to you—”
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “You were.”
She swallowed. “I was arrogant and proud and following the course I thought Ishould follow, but you were right, it was myfather’s course, not mine, and I was wrong, I was so very wrong, and I love you, Barrett!”
“It is too late,” he said firmly.
“No!”she cried, squeezing his hand. “You cannot say that! I have refused Sir William, I have told him thatyou are the man I love, and Barrett, it is true. I long to be with you,” she said, closing her eyes, squeezing back the tears. “I have longed to be with you for ages, and now…now I have given up everything to be with you.”
The School for Heiresses Page 25