The Best of Intentions

by Susan Anne Mason

  “What’s going on in Ottawa?” Suspicion darkened Edison’s features.

  A brief flare of satisfaction filled Andrew’s chest. He knew something his rival didn’t—something Father hadn’t felt the need to tell Edison about.

  “A project my father is working on.” He turned to Cecilia. “I’ll explain when I get back. Maybe we can meet for dinner then?”

  She brightened. “That sounds wonderful. I assume you’ll be back in time for the party?”

  “What party?”

  “Your mother’s birthday. Don’t tell me you forgot that too?” Her laugh echoed over the room.

  Annoyance crawled up Andrew’s neck. How did these two always manage to make him feel incompetent? He did a mental calculation of the dates and realized the celebration would likely be on the night he returned. “We’ll set a date for dinner when I return then.”

  “Set a date.” She wiggled her brows. “I like the sound of that.”

  CHAPTER 21

  September 10, 1917

  Oh, Grace, my heart grows weary with this war. I wonder if I will ever see Frank again. Three long years we’ve been apart with nothing but letters to keep us going. Who ever imagined this fighting would go on so long? I pray God gives me the courage to endure this agony until Frank comes home to me.

  Grace shifted Christian on her hip as she climbed the back staircase, a tug of regret dimming her usual good humor. She’d been looking forward to Andrew’s return from Ottawa today and hearing all about his unexpected trip at dinnertime. She’d missed him more than she thought possible. Was it a coincidence or a deliberate choice that this trip occurred right after their day at the amusement park?

  She would have to wait to find out because tonight the family was hosting a party in honor of Mrs. Easton’s birthday. A party Grace was not invited to attend.

  So instead of dinner in the dining room, she’d brought the baby down to the kitchen and grabbed a quick bite with the other staff before the guests began to arrive. She would likely not see Andrew at all, and the long evening ahead in the nursery suddenly seemed very lonely.

  Her presence—correction—Christian’s presence had been requested by Mr. Easton, who’d asked her to bring the boy down so he could introduce him to their friends. For that, she had donned one of her good Sunday dresses, not wishing to appear before everyone in her nanny’s apron.

  In order to keep Christian awake later than usual, Grace spent time playing with him and reading him a story. At the allotted hour, she made sure the boy’s nappy was dry and that he was dressed in his best outfit. Then with a last peek in the mirror, Grace carried him down the rear staircase. A host of butterflies swarmed her stomach as she neared the bottom of the stairs. The sound of laughter and muted conversation drifted out from the various rooms in the house. She entered the back hall and kept to the shadows where she would await a cue from Mr. Easton to enter the parlor.

  A few seconds later, however, Andrew appeared. He came to a sudden halt when he noticed her. “Grace? What are you doing here?”

  The momentary thrill that surged through her upon seeing him evaporated under the weight of his frown. Was he not pleased to see her?

  “Your father asked me to bring Christian down. I’m waiting for him to come and get me.”

  “I suppose he wants to introduce his new grandson to the world.” Andrew gave a tight smile, yet lines of tension remained around his eyes.

  What had happened to the relaxed man who’d watched the fireworks with her?

  “How was your trip?” she asked softly, pulling Christian’s little hand away from her face.

  “Productive. We’re thinking of opening another hotel there.”

  “How exciting.” She smiled, happy to see a glimmer of enthusiasm replace the strain on his face.

  “Yes, it is.” He shifted from one foot to the other, his gaze staying trained on the baby.

  Grace lifted her chin. Something had definitely changed between them, and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand what. Did he regret opening up to her the way he had on the island?

  He took a step forward, and her traitorous pulse leapt.

  “I’ll take Christian inside. I’d welcome the chance to spend some time with him.” Andrew held out his arms for the baby. “I’ll bring him back when we’re through.”

  That suited Grace just fine, not having to be on display among all those fancy guests. Yet in a way, it felt like a dismissal. She handed Christian to him, and the boy snuggled into Andrew’s shoulder.

  When he remained silent, she forced a smile. “Well, have a good night.”

  “Grace, wait.” His husky tone vibrated with regret. “Why don’t you come down once Christian’s asleep? Mother would be happy to see you.”

  She held his gaze for a beat, unsure of what she saw in those captivating blue depths. Longing? Remorse? Her throat clogged. Did he really want her there or was he simply being polite?

  A movement behind him caught Grace’s attention. Clad in a vibrant blue dress, Cecilia Carmichael marched toward them.

  “There you are, Andrew darling. I was wondering where you’d gotten to.” She walked up and wound her hand through his arm, her eyes colder than the jewels that glittered at her neck.

  Had she heard Andrew’s invitation?

  A closed look came over his face. “Father wants to introduce Christian to the guests.” He nodded to Grace. “Thank you for bringing him down.”

  At his complete change in demeanor, something inside Grace withered. When she’d shared the holiday with the Eastons at Hanlan Point, Grace had almost begun to feel like part of the family, but now her true place became exceedingly apparent.

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “I’d better get back to the nursery.” Where I belong.

  The tension returned to Andrew’s face. “I’ll have Virginia bring Christian upstairs later. Good-night, Miss Foley.”

  There was no doubt about this dismissal.

  Grace lifted her chin. “Good-night. Please wish your mother a happy birthday for me.” Without acknowledging Cecilia, she turned and headed back to the servants’ staircase.

  After four days away, Andrew had almost managed to stop thinking about Grace, but that had all been undone the second he laid eyes on her again. Coming upon her with Christian in her arms, every good intention had flown from his head. What had he been thinking, inviting her to join the party? Thank goodness Cecilia had shown up when she did, or who knows what he would have done next.

  He blew out a long breath. He needed to stay strong, focus on his goal to keep his family intact, and avoid Grace as much as possible.

  After seeing him talking to Grace, Cecilia had clung to his arm most of the night, until thankfully she’d been drawn into a conversation with some of the ladies about her contributions to the gala. Andrew had been more than relieved to have a minute to himself and had escaped to the front step for a bit of fresh air.

  Now, as he reluctantly returned, he made sure his smile was in place before entering the crowded parlor. He crossed to the solarium where his mother held court in her favorite chair. She was clearly in her element, laughing at something one of her friends said, and for that reason alone, Andrew would endure the false niceties and whispered gossip of the guests. Ever since he’d been turned down by the military, he’d been the recipient of constant condemnation. Nothing he ever did was good enough in society’s eyes.

  “Can I get you anything, Mother?” he said as he came up beside her. “Another glass of punch perhaps?”

  She grabbed his hand. “There you are, dear. We were just talking about you.”

  “All good things, I hope.” He winked at Mrs. Cherry, an old friend of his mother’s.

  The plump woman chuckled, causing her chin to wobble. “Lillian was telling me how you’ve taken on the responsibility of raising your nephew. That’s very noble of you.”

  “I consider it an honor to raise Frank’s son. I only hope I can do a good job.”

&n
bsp; “I’m sure you will, what with your family to help.”

  “That’s true. Now what can I get you ladies to drink?”

  Two hours later, the party showed no signs of ending, and Andrew found himself longing for the solitude of his bedroom. If he had to smile any more, his face muscles would surely freeze.

  He was about to enter the dining room to fetch yet another glass of punch for one of the guests when a shrill voice rose above the others from inside.

  “I hear Cecilia suffered quite a disappointment on Dominion Day. Is it true Andrew didn’t attend your annual celebration?”

  “It is.” Mrs. Carmichael’s terse response froze Andrew’s feet to the floor. “Even worse,” she continued, “he spent the day in the company of the family’s dreadful British nanny.”

  “Unheard of! Who brings the nanny on a family outing?”

  “Word has it,” a third person chimed in, “that Lillian and Virginia left early, and he stayed to watch the fireworks with the nanny—alone.”

  Heat built in Andrew’s chest. How on earth could they know that? Were there spies following him around, reporting back to the Carmichaels?

  “He’s taking an awful chance. It could ruin everything.”

  “You’re so right. If he doesn’t make his intentions known soon, I wouldn’t be surprised if Cecilia ended up with that handsome Mr. Edison.”

  “Frankly,” Mrs. Carmichael said, “he might be a better match. Mr. Edison is clearly more ambitious than Andrew, who—let’s be honest—has had everything handed to him by his father.”

  Icy chills of rage raced through him. Before he could stop himself, he strode into the dining room, his gaze narrowing on the women by the sideboard.

  The two ladies with Mrs. Carmichael gasped, but Cecilia’s mother remained as cool as ever. She merely raised a brow as if daring him to say anything.

  This time Andrew would not hold his tongue for propriety’s sake. He speared them all with a sharp glare. “I hope you ladies are having a good time at my expense. For the record, I invited Cecilia to come to Hanlan’s Point with my family on Dominion Day, and she turned me down. So if she was disappointed, it was her own fault.”

  He waited a beat while the two women murmured abstract apologies. Mrs. Carmichael only stared.

  “Furthermore, my relationship with your daughter is private. I’d thank you to keep your opinions to yourself and not stoop to the level of a cheap gossipmonger.”

  That time he got a reaction. Charlotte’s eyes widened and she pressed her mouth into a tight line. Before she could unleash her sharp tongue on him, Andrew stormed from the room.

  He’d hear about his rudeness tomorrow from Cecilia and his father, but right now he didn’t care. He’d had enough of the endless criticism, the whispered gossip behind gloved hands, the disapproving stares.

  Andrew strode out the side door and headed to the rear of the house, pulling his tie loose as he went. Suffocating. That was the perfect word to describe his life. Bound at every side by family obligations and outrageous expectations. If only he could take Christian far away where no one knew him, where no one censured his every action.

  The humid night air surrounded him like a shroud as he made his way to the center of his mother’s garden, where the heavy fragrance of roses scented the space. He thanked the heavens—and Collin Lafferty—that the bushes were tall enough to conceal his presence from anyone looking out from the solarium. Right now he craved anonymity and solitude, willing the serenity of the night to rid him of his toxic anger. Above him, the clouds shifted, revealing an almost full moon, illuminating his path as he walked.

  When he reached the fountain, tension still snapped through his stiff muscles. He picked up a pebble, rubbed its smoothness between his fingers, then hurled it into the water. A tide of ripples swelled out to the edges. As he stared into the pool, his reflection became fractured, distorted—just like his life.

  Expelling a long breath, he sank onto the stone ledge and dropped his head into his hands. Why was he so conflicted lately? The family he’d worked so hard to keep intact after Frank’s estrangement was slowly healing. His career had improved. His father was ready to entrust him with the expansion of the new hotel, which meant he would finally get to do more than balance the ledgers. If things went well with the Ottawa project, Andrew could make a real difference to the Easton holdings. Earn his father’s respect and be considered the loyal son and rightful heir to the family fortune.

  So why did his soul seem to shrivel up as each day passed? Why did it feel that the progress he’d made with his father could easily disappear with one wrong word, one misstep?

  Like refusing to marry Cecilia.

  Andrew’s shoulders sagged. Prior to Christian’s coming into his life, his path had been clear. Marrying Celia was a logical decision. Not only would a sophisticated wife be an asset to his career, their union would restore his family’s honor, a matter of extreme importance to his father.

  But Cecilia’s lack of support concerning Christian had created a fissure of uncertainty that now seemed as wide as a chasm. Andrew had tried to be understanding, giving her time to adjust to the new development in his life. But she still showed no sign of softening toward the boy.

  And then Grace had come along with her gentle ways and her unconditional love for Christian, embodying everything he’d hoped Cecilia would be for his nephew. Faced with such a comparison, he’d been growing less and less enthralled with the prospect of committing himself to a woman who didn’t seem to share the same vision for their lives.

  Andrew looked upward, his eyes drawn to the amazing array of stars visible in the night sky. As a boy, he used to believe the stars were actually God winking down at him from heaven, proof He was watching over him. Maybe Andrew needed to take his problems to the One with all the answers. But how to begin after so long?

  He focused on a star near the moon, and just like he’d done as a boy, lifted his thoughts to the Almighty.

  Forgive me, Lord. I know my faith is weak. I’ve been struggling ever since Frank deserted us. Even more so since his death. Now you’ve given me the precious gift of his son to raise. But the truth is, I’m not sure I can do this on my own, and it doesn’t seem Cecilia will be the mother Christian needs. Lord, please show me what’s best for Christian. Help me to know your will for my life, and I will do my best to follow it.

  The earnest prayer echoed in Andrew’s heart, and for the first time in a long while, a measure of peace spread through him. This was what he needed to do. Turn his life over to the Lord and let Him direct his path. Surely he couldn’t fail if he listened for the Lord’s guidance.

  Andrew remained seated on the edge of the fountain for some time, loathe to leave the peace and solitude. Just when he decided he should rejoin the festivities, a soft humming broke the stillness. He looked around to see where it had originated.

  Several yards away, Grace came into view, strolling among the rosebushes. Andrew almost forgot to breathe, so mesmerized was he at the sight of her. In the moonlight, she seemed as ethereal as the graceful statue in the fountain. Her hair, normally pulled back in a roll, now flowed over her shoulders with a few strands left loose around her cheeks. She plucked a flower from the bush and held it to her nose, closing her eyes as she inhaled its fragrance. A soft smile teased her lips.

  Andrew’s mouth went dry. He rose from the ledge, his movement capturing her attention.

  Her eyes widened. “Andrew. What are you doing out here?”

  “Getting some air. And you?”

  “I-I wasn’t tired and thought a stroll in the garden might help.” She twisted her fingers together, almost crushing the flower. “Christian is fast asleep. I checked before I came down.” She glanced around the area, as though expecting someone to jump from the bushes. “Well, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Wait.” He hated this awkwardness between them. After all they had shared, she deserved so much better. “I’m glad you’re here, because I owe you a
n apology for the way I treated you earlier. I acted like you were—”

  “Your employee?” She raised a brow.

  His breath whooshed out. “Yes.”

  “That’s because I am.”

  He took a step toward her. “You’re much more than that, Grace. I’d like to think we’re friends at least.”

  She held his gaze for several seconds. The evening breeze stirred her hair, lifting it from her shoulders. “I don’t think Miss Carmichael would be happy to hear that.”

  “Let’s leave Cecilia out of this, shall we?” he said quietly.

  “Very well. I accept your apology.” The guarded look left her eyes, and she came closer. “So why are you really out here? Weren’t you having a good time?” She tilted her head to study him.

  He gestured for her to sit and then took a seat beside her. “The truth is, I detest social events. I feel hypocritical, putting on a fake smile, making inane chit-chat about topics I don’t care about. And I can’t abide the gossipmongers.” He scowled, recalling the main reason he’d come out here.

  “Did you overhear something unpleasant?”

  Her astuteness never failed to astonish him. “I did. And I probably made matters worse by confronting the woman.”

  Grace plucked at the petals of the rose she still held. “Maybe all will be forgotten by tomorrow.”

  “You don’t know Charlotte Carmichael. She never forgets a thing.”

  “You’re right. Though she’s probably the one who owes you an apology.”

  He gave her an admiring glance. “You’re a smart woman, Grace Foley.”

  She laughed. “I call it being observant. You can learn a lot from staying in the background and watching people.” She leaned back and trailed her fingers through the water in the fountain. “For instance, why does Mrs. Carmichael seem to dislike you?”

  Andrew sucked in a breath. “You don’t beat around the bush.”

  “Too personal?”

  “No, just honest.” He ran his hand over his beard. “Ever since Frank broke off his engagement to Cecilia, Charlotte has held a grudge against our family. But because her husband and my father are good friends, she’s forced to put up with us.”