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The Best of Intentions

Page 12

by Susan Anne Mason

Mrs. Easton gave a watery smile. “Nothing like a child’s laughter to brighten the day.”

  “So true. Would you like to hold him?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Grace handed the boy to his grandmother.

  Mrs. Easton hugged him to her chest, closed her eyes, and inhaled. “It’s as if I’m holding my Frank again. He used to smell exactly the same.” Her voice quavered.

  “I imagine Christian will grow up to look very much like him.” With the exception of his mother’s eyes.

  “I hope so. Maybe then I can learn to live with the sorrow of losing Frank.”

  Grace nodded. “I know exactly what you mean.”

  Somehow holding Rose’s son helped ease the pain of Grace’s loss. And wasn’t that the reason she’d originally wanted to bring Christian back home to her mother? As a substitute for the loved ones Mum had lost?

  Mrs. Easton set Christian on her lap, not even rebuking him when he grabbed her string of pearls. She looked Grace in the eye for the first time. “Have you suffered the loss of someone close to you as well, Miss Foley?”

  Grace bit her bottom lip, willing herself to be strong. “As a matter of fact, I have.”

  Andrew didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He was just so stunned to see Grace and his mother seated together in the solarium, having an apparently intense conversation, that he couldn’t move away. Then curiosity got the better of him, and he edged closer, staying out of sight behind the heavy drapery by the doorway.

  “I see you understand my pain,” his mother said. “Who did you lose? A parent?”

  “A parent and siblings. One of my brothers died when I was twelve. My father passed away two years after, which was hard on my mother, being left with three other children. But more recently, we lost my oldest brother, Owen. He died in the war, like your son.” Grace’s voice broke. “It almost destroyed my mother. She took to her bed for weeks after the news.”

  “I did the same thing. Strange to think our families live an ocean apart and yet have so much in common.”

  “Indeed it is, ma’am.”

  “Please, call me Lillian, when it’s just the two of us. Of course when Mr. Easton is present, we must maintain our formal titles.”

  “Of course.”

  “You mentioned three children. Where is your other sibling? In England, with your mother?”

  A long silence ensued.

  “I’m afraid we lost my sister recently to . . . a sudden illness.”

  “Oh, my dear. I’m terribly sorry. So it’s only you and your mother left.”

  “That’s right.”

  The sorrow in her voice stirred something in Andrew’s chest. He inched closer.

  “Then may I ask,” his mother continued, “why you left to come all the way to Canada? I would think you’d want to be near her after enduring such tragedy.”

  When another silence ensued, Andrew risked a glance into the room. Grace was frowning, biting her bottom lip as she often did when agitated. He ducked back out of sight, hoping she would answer since he wanted to know the reason as well.

  “It was my mother’s wish that I come to Canada. She wanted me to . . .”

  “Find a better life?”

  “Yes.”

  “And I imagine you didn’t want to disappoint her. Still, it must have been hard to leave.”

  “Extremely hard.”

  Those two words, fraught with such sorrow, wrenched Andrew’s heart.

  “You’re a devoted daughter, which I can respect. You remind me very much of my Virginia in that regard.”

  Andrew peered around the curtain once again and his throat cinched. His mother was bouncing little Christian on her knee. The child laughed with undisguised delight. How had Grace known to bring him in to cheer his mother on this difficult day?

  Frank would have turned twenty-eight today. Andrew had left the office early when he realized Mother was home alone, knowing she would be grieving and would need her family around her. He also worried she might overmedicate herself to ease the pain.

  He stepped out from behind the curtain and entered the solarium. “Well, what do we have here? A party and I wasn’t invited?”

  Grace’s head snapped up. Her posture stiffened.

  “Andrew darling, what are you doing home so early?” His mother smiled.

  He bent to kiss her cheek and rested his hand on Christian’s back. “When it finally hit me what day it was, I didn’t want you to be alone.”

  “Thank you. The house was much too quiet.”

  “Is today a special occasion?” Grace frowned, her expression confused.

  Andrew nodded. “It’s Frank’s birthday.”

  “Oh.” Grace looked at his mother, then back at him. “You’d probably like some time alone as a family. I can come back later for the baby.”

  Her thoughtfulness was more than admirable.

  “Thank you, Grace.” Andrew held out his hand to help her rise. “I’ll walk you out.”

  She stared at him, then nodded. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Easton. I hope you’re feeling better.”

  “Thank you so much, Grace. I enjoyed our conversation.”

  Andrew put a hand under her elbow and led her through the parlor into the main hall. “I want to thank you for bringing Christian to see my mother. How did you know this was a bad day for her?”

  She glanced up at him, her eyes awash with sympathy. “I happened to see her through the window and realized she was crying. I hoped a visit from her grandson might cheer her up.”

  “That was most kind. Especially since she hasn’t been very welcoming.”

  Her eyelids fluttered down and the sweep of her lashes touched her cheek. Why did he find her every move so fascinating?

  “I’ll be back in an hour or so for Christian,” she said.

  “If he gets fussy before then, I’ll bring him up. Take some time for yourself and relax.”

  “Thank you.” She started up the stairs, then looked back. “I’m very sorry about your brother. If I can do anything more, please just ask.”

  He nodded, his throat too tight to speak. As he watched her ascend the stairs, he couldn’t help but admire her compassionate nature. She too had lost a brother in the war, and a sister recently as well, it seemed, yet she went out of her way to offer comfort to others.

  Cecilia, on the other hand, had not even acknowledged the day. She of all people should know what significance the day held for him. She’d supposedly been in love with Frank once. Shouldn’t she be feeling some sort of sorrow or regret? Yet she’d come into the office to work with Paul Edison as though the day meant nothing, never inquiring about his parents’ well-being or his own, for that matter. Instead she flirted and giggled all morning with Andrew’s nemesis, their laughter ringing out over the halls with irritating regularity.

  Another reason why Andrew had wanted to leave early.

  With a last glance up the stairs, he shook off his dark thoughts and went to enjoy the extra time with his mother and nephew.

  CHAPTER 13

  October 2, 1914

  My heart is breaking, Grace. Today I said good-bye to Frank. He’s finished the first course of his training and has received his orders. The Canadian Contingent are heading overseas next week. They will receive further training once they reach England. It seems so strange that Frank will be making the journey to my homeland without me. I only pray that when this war is over, we can travel there together and visit you and Mum. I’m sure you’ll both love Frank as much as I do.

  On Sunday morning, Grace awakened early, eager to take the streetcar to Mrs. Chamberlain’s house and accompany her to church. She’d missed her long chats with her landlady, as well as the wise counsel of Reverend Burke.

  But when she pushed back the drapes, torrents of rain streaked her window, making the trip across town improbable at best. She’d be soaked by the time she reached the streetcar stop. And then to sit in the drafty church in wet clothes, she’d be asking for her own case of influenza
for her folly. With a sigh, she straightened her bed and quickly got dressed.

  As Grace entered the baby’s room, her heart warmed to the soft gurgles coming from the crib. Lately, instead of awaking in a frenzy of tears, Christian would content himself with his rattle or looking at his fists as he waved them in the air. Perhaps he was starting to forget his mother—a thought that both comforted Grace and saddened her greatly.

  Smiling, she bent over the crib rail. “Good morning, sweetheart. How are you today?”

  A wide toothless grin brightened the boy’s face. Grace bit her lip at the unexpected rush of emotion. Did she dare believe he had bonded with her this quickly?

  She lifted him up and snuggled him close. “Let’s change your nappy and get you dressed.”

  The bedroom door opened, and Andrew stepped inside. “Grace. I didn’t expect to see you. I thought you’d be getting ready for church.”

  “I’ve decided to postpone my trip until next week because of the weather.”

  “That’s probably wise.” He moved toward her, and her heart gave a lurch. In his gray suit and navy tie, he looked more handsome than ever. She dropped her gaze before she stared too long.

  “Why don’t you join us at the cathedral this morning? We’ll be going by car, so you shouldn’t get too wet.” His tone was teasing, his smile open.

  Yet the idea of squeezing into the family auto with Andrew’s whole family set her nerves on fire. “I don’t think your father would approve. I’ll be fine here.”

  “If it will make you more comfortable, I can take you, Virginia, and Christian in my car.”

  She hesitated, hating to refuse his kind offer.

  “You said you’ve been missing church. Why not try the cathedral and see if it suits you? If not, you don’t have to go again.”

  Christian wiggled in her arms. The wetness of his bottom had begun to seep through to her apron. “I would have to change . . .” Her working clothes would never do for a cathedral. The very word inspired thoughts of royalty.

  “I can take him while you do that.” Andrew reached for the baby, but she held on.

  “Careful, he’s soaking. You don’t want to ruin your suit. Let me change him and then you can take him while I dress.”

  “All right.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’m learning that tending to a baby requires teamwork.”

  Grace laughed. “I’m discovering the same thing.”

  An hour later, after feeding Christian his breakfast, Grace sat with the boy held tightly on her lap in Andrew’s car. Virginia had chosen to ride with her parents, which sent a glimmer of alarm through Grace. It felt as though Virginia was trying to give them time alone on the ride over. Grace had no idea why she would do such a thing, even if she disapproved of Cecilia Carmichael.

  She glanced over at Andrew as he steered the auto confidently down the rain-slicked streets. He’d added a dashing fedora to his outfit, which sat at a rakish angle over his brow. For a moment, Grace allowed herself to imagine they were a real family heading off to church together. What would it be like to have a kind, honorable husband and a lovely baby boy?

  Grace quickly erased that mental picture. Spending time alone with Andrew was not a good idea. Their relationship needed to remain strictly employer and employee.

  Nothing more.

  The steeple of the church came into view and Grace could only stare. St. James Cathedral was as awe-inspiring as it sounded.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  “Wait until you see the inside. I never tire of its grandeur.” Andrew craned his neck to see the road. “I’m afraid I’ll have to let you off. It appears everyone has come in their vehicles today. I’ll meet you in the vestibule as soon as I find a spot to park.”

  Grace peered out at the rain. “Did you bring your brolly?”

  “My what?”

  “Oh, sorry. Your umbrella.”

  He grinned. “Yes, I have my brolly in the back seat. Thank you.”

  The car stopped, and Grace managed to open the door and step out with Christian, whom she’d wrapped in a blanket. She pressed the boy’s face into her shoulder as she ran for the steps of the church.

  A man held the door open for her, and she dashed inside where a crush of people stood talking in the foyer. Grace shook water droplets from her jacket and hat and checked Christian to make sure he wasn’t wet. Thankfully, the outer blanket had protected him from the brief shower.

  “My, what a beautiful baby.” A tall woman in a blue velvet hat and matching coat stepped toward her.

  “Thank you.” Grace shifted Christian to a more comfortable position. Something about the compliment seemed as false as the woman’s cold eyes.

  “Does he take after you or your husband?”

  Grace pasted on a smile. “Oh, he’s not mine. I’m his nanny.”

  The woman’s brows rose to the brim of her hat. “His parents let you take him to church? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” The woman scanned the group of people as though expecting his parents to come rushing forward and pluck the child from her arms.

  “I’m waiting for his family. They should be here any minute.” At this point, Grace would even be relieved to see Mr. Easton come through the doors, but she suspected he and the others were already seated, since they had left before her and Andrew.

  Thankfully, the door opened and Andrew entered, shaking the moisture from his brolly. Grace lifted a hand to catch his attention. He smiled and headed in her direction, but as he neared, his expression became guarded.

  “Mrs. Carmichael. How are you today?” He moved beside Grace and, in what seemed a deliberate action, adjusted the blanket around Christian’s back.

  “Andrew?” The woman’s brows rose higher. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “Allow me to introduce Miss Grace Foley and my nephew, Christian. Grace, this is Mrs. Carmichael, a close friend of the family.”

  Carmichael. As in Cecilia Carmichael? As Grace studied the woman, the similarity became evident. The woman wore the same air of superiority that clung to her daughter.

  Mrs. Carmichael inclined her head, then turned to Andrew. “I was just admiring the baby. I’m afraid I’ve been remiss in visiting since his . . . arrival.”

  “No need. I know how busy you are.”

  Grace glanced at Andrew. His tone seemed reserved, chilly almost. Why were things so strained with this woman, who in all likelihood would one day become his mother-in-law?

  “You must sit with us, Andrew. Cecilia will be thrilled to see you.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be sitting near the back in case Christian fusses.” His features appeared set in stone. “Mother and Father are in their usual spot. You should say hello on your way in.”

  Grace held her breath, willing the tension to ease.

  The woman glared at Grace, then looked back at Andrew. “I hope we’ll see you at the house again soon. I fear Cecilia has been feeling somewhat neglected of late.”

  “She knows I’ve been busy since becoming Christian’s guardian. Helping him adjust to his new home has to be a priority right now.”

  “Yes, well, now that you have a new nanny, your time should be much freer.” Her arctic tone matched her frozen features.

  The organ music swelled, and people began filing into the church.

  Mrs. Carmichael spared Grace one last disdainful glance, then headed inside with the rest of the congregation.

  As soon as she left, the air whooshed from Grace’s lungs. “Did I do something to upset her?”

  “Not at all. Irritated is Charlotte Carmichael’s perpetual state, I’m afraid. Don’t let her get to you.” He gestured to the interior of the church. “Let’s find our seats, shall we?”

  “Are you sure you want to sit with us? You’d probably be better off with the rest of your family.”

  “I’m not afraid of a little gossip, Grace. My place is with Christian. If anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me later.”
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  Grace was certain Mr. Easton would do exactly that.

  With a hand to her back, Andrew guided her into the church. She shook off the tension and concentrated instead on taking in her surroundings. The inside of the cathedral was as awe-inspiring as Andrew had described. Gorgeous stained-glass windows lined each side of the building. Rows of identical pillars marked the aisles all the way to the altar. The heady scent of flowers and candle wax filled the space.

  She and Andrew sat in the second-to-last row so they could make a quick escape if need be. Grace became instantly aware of the blatant stares and whispers around them, yet Andrew appeared unfazed. With enormous effort, she held her head high and focused on the service.

  Once she settled in, she found the minister to be an eloquent and uplifting speaker. But the greatest inspiration came from the remarkable choir, accompanied by a powerful pipe organ, which sent chills straight up her spine. The music rivaled something she might have heard in Westminster Abbey.

  “How did you enjoy the service?” Andrew asked afterward.

  Grace looked up from tying Christian’s bonnet. “It was brilliant.”

  “Brilliant?”

  “Marvelous. Incredible. Extraordinary.”

  He chuckled and stepped into the aisle. “Ah, I get the picture.”

  “I could stay here all day and listen to the singing.” She lifted Christian and rose from the pew.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it. And this little man”—Andrew angled his head toward Christian—“was very well-behaved. He must have liked the music too.” He held out his hand and Christian grabbed his finger.

  Grace laughed. “All babies love music. It’s inborn, I think.”

  Andrew’s smile suddenly faded. “Brace yourself,” he whispered.

  She followed his gaze up the aisle. Mr. Easton marched toward them, a decidedly unpleasant expression reddening his face. Mrs. Easton and Virginia had stopped to talk to someone farther back.

  “What is the meaning of this, Andrew? Why were you sitting at the back of the church like some sort of criminal?”

  Andrew huffed out a breath. “I doubt many criminals come to church, Father.”

 

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