The Best of Intentions

by Susan Anne Mason

  Then he looked at the other woman and froze.

  The air in the room seemed to thicken. Why would Grace have a picture taken with Frank’s wife?

  He turned the photo over. A neat script flowed over the back. Rose and Grace, April 1914. Shivers of foreboding pricked his skin. He opened the cover of the Bible and found the same handwriting inside. Grace Abernathy, 24 Sheepshead Lane, Sussex, England.

  His hands shook. The book fell from his fingers and landed with a thud on the floor. His lungs squeezed the last bit of air from his chest.

  She’d been lying to them this entire time. She wasn’t Grace Foley at all.

  She’s Rose’s sister. Christian’s aunt.

  He shot up from the rocker, disbelief roaring through his system. Raking his hands through his hair, he replayed their conversations and everything that had happened since Grace had come to Fairlawn. He recalled then the first time she’d held the baby, the tears in her eyes now making sense. No wonder she loved the child so deeply.

  Anger, raw and deep, settled in the pit of his stomach, the taste of betrayal bitter on his tongue. How could she deceive him like this? Worm her way into his family and make herself indispensable to Christian’s well-being? Why wouldn’t she have told him who she really was?

  Andrew looked into the crib at his sleeping nephew. His thoughts swirled in a continual loop of unanswered questions. Everything he thought he knew about Grace now seemed tainted, spoiled by her lies. He’d been duped by a pretty face, a false virtue that hid her true duplicitous nature.

  Thank goodness he’d never told her he loved her. How ridiculous would he feel then?

  Nausea rose in his throat as he bent to snatch the Bible from the floor. Clutching it in his hands, he vowed to get to the bottom of this unholy deception.

  He would let nothing—and no one—jeopardize his relationship with his nephew.

  CHAPTER 26

  Grace awoke to find her room in shadows. She blinked, trying to chase the cobwebs from her brain. What time was it? Memories of Christian’s illness flashed through her. She bolted upright in the bed, smoothing down her wrinkled skirt. More images rose in her mind. Andrew picking her off the floor, carrying her to the rocker, comforting her while she bared her soul to him.

  What must he think of her? She’d been an emotional mess, a state she rarely, if ever, found herself in. When she saw him again, she would apologize for her display and assure him it wouldn’t happen again.

  Squaring her shoulders, she entered the nursery, relieved to find Virginia instead of Andrew.

  Virginia rose from the rocker. “You’re awake at last. I hope you’re feeling better. Andrew said you weren’t quite yourself.”

  “I’m much better, thank you.”

  A smile bloomed on Virginia’s face. “You’ll be pleased to know Christian’s fever broke this morning, and Dr. Ballard has pronounced him on the road to recovery.”

  Grace joined Virginia at the crib and laid a hand on the sleeping boy’s forehead. Cool to the touch. She closed her eyes and breathed a prayer of thanks. “Has he taken his bottle?”

  “He drank about half of it. And it wore him out. The doctor said it would take a few days before he’s back to normal and that he’d likely be fussy, off his usual schedule.”

  “As long as he’s going to be fine, I don’t care how fussy he gets.”

  Virginia put her arm around her. “I know what you mean. I’ve never been more scared in my life. I don’t know what we would do if we ever lost him.”

  The words curled around Grace’s heart, tugging with the weight of guilt. What would Virginia do if she knew Grace had been considering taking Christian to England? She still hadn’t completely ruled out the idea if Andrew asked Cecilia to marry him.

  “You must be hungry yourself,” Virginia said. “You slept almost round the clock. I’ll stay here if you want to get something to eat.”

  “Thank you. I believe I am hungry.” She laughed, her taut muscles loosening at long last, now that she knew Christian would be all right.

  Before she reached the door, Andrew entered the room. Grace’s pulse kicked up at the sight of his handsome face. Yet her smile froze when his eyes didn’t warm in greeting as they normally did.

  Instead, his gaze bounced off her and settled on Virginia. “How is he doing now?”

  “You heard what the doctor said. He won’t have his usual energy for a few days yet.” Virginia picked up a knitted blanket from the rocker and folded it. “Grace is feeling much better after her sleep, so between the two of us, we can look after him. You don’t need to feel guilty about going in to work.”

  Andrew straightened, his expression darkening. “Actually I need to speak to Grace before I leave. In the library, please.” Without waiting for her reply, he walked out of the room.

  Grace’s stomach swooped at his flat tone. Had he decided Christian’s illness was her fault after all, that she’d been negligent in her duties? And if so, would he dismiss her?

  She shot a desperate glance at Virginia, who only shrugged.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With trepidation beating in her chest, she headed down the stairs.

  Andrew stared out the window in the library, his thoughts consumed with the conversation he was about to have, one he dreaded more than his father’s lectures. If Grace admitted what Andrew knew to be true, he didn’t see how he could possibly keep her on staff. Part of him held out a slim hope that she might offer a plausible explanation for what he’d discovered, yet what possible reason could there be?

  His emotions wavered between anger and despair, further proof he’d lost all perspective when it came to Grace. Without intending to, he’d let down his guard and allowed her into his heart. But it was all a lie, a huge deception.

  She’d used Virginia to obtain an interview for the job and manipulated his emotions—as well as his family’s—to ingratiate her way into their lives. Was it her plan all along to make him fall in love with her in the hope that he’d marry her and thereby gain access to Christian? His temple throbbed with the agony of thoughts plaguing him. He didn’t even hear the door open.

  “Andrew? Is everything all right?” Grace’s quiet voice filled the room.

  He squared his shoulders and turned to face her, keeping his expression stony. “Sit down.”

  He waited until she was seated before taking his father’s chair, which creaked as he leaned forward. Despite his erratic heartbeat, he did his best to maintain a calm outward demeanor. It wouldn’t do to let his anger get the best of him.

  Grace’s hand fluttered to the neck of her blouse as she waited for him to speak, her face pale.

  “I want to know,” he said slowly, “why you’ve been lying to us—to me—all this time.”

  Her mouth fell open, her eyes widening with a hint of fear. “I . . . I don’t understand.”

  Without a word, he pulled her Bible from the top drawer and slid it toward her, then waited for her reaction.

  “My Bible,” she said. “Where did you . . . ?” A frown creased her brow, and then as realization dawned, horror flooded her features.

  “Why didn’t you tell us who you really are?” He slipped the photo from the book and tossed it down in front of her. “That you’re Rose’s sister. Christian’s aunt.” With effort, he held his anger in check. “What kind of game are you playing, Miss Abernathy?”

  She flinched, then picked up the picture and ran a trembling finger over the glossy surface. When she lifted her head, tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m sorry. It was the only way I could think of to get close to Christian.”

  “Other than what? Telling the truth?”

  She tilted her chin, brown eyes flashing. “What do you think your father would have done if I’d shown up at your door and said, ‘Good day. I’m the sister of the woman you despised. I’m here to establish a connection with my nephew’? Do you really think he would have welcomed me with open arms?”

  A flush heated Andrew’
s cheeks, for he couldn’t dispute her point. “Maybe not right away. But I’m sure once he got used to the idea—”

  Grace scoffed. “You know very well he would never have let me in the house, much less allow me to be part of Christian’s life. Even now, after months of living here, he barely tolerates me.”

  She had a valid point. Andrew let a few beats of silence pass. Long enough to let both of their tempers settle.

  “How did you know what my father’s reaction would be?” he asked at last.

  “Rose wrote me every week. She told me how badly your family treated her.” Defiance glowed in her eyes. “How they disowned Frank for marrying her. How your father fired her from her job at the hotel, and how when Frank left to go overseas, she couldn’t afford to keep their flat and had to go back to the boardinghouse.”

  Despite his anger, Andrew’s heart sank. He’d never considered what life had been like for Rose with Frank away for so long.

  “When she found out she was expecting, she hid her pregnancy as long as possible, but once her employer learned of her condition, he let her go. Rose had the baby, and they lived on the charity of a stranger.” Tears squeezed from beneath Grace’s closed lids. She drew a handkerchief from her apron and dabbed her face.

  Andrew stifled another surge of guilt, hardening himself to her pain. “For the sake of the baby, Rose should have swallowed her pride and come to us.”

  “And what do you imagine your father would have done?” Grace’s eyes snapped with anger. “Rose was terrified he’d take the baby from her, and what recourse would she have had against such a rich, powerful man?”

  Andrew went still for he again couldn’t deny the truth of her statement. Yet it didn’t excuse what Grace had done. “So you came to seek revenge for your sister’s mistreatment? Is that it?”

  Grace jerked up from the chair, her mouth pinched. “I won’t dignify that with a reply.” She grabbed her Bible and headed for the door.

  “Just a minute.” Andrew hated the desperation in his voice.

  She half turned and stood waiting while he rose slowly from his chair.

  “I need to know. What was your real intention when you followed Virginia to the park?” He was bluffing, assuming she’d done just that.

  Her cheeks reddened, and she let out a breath. “At first, I only wanted to catch a glimpse of Christian. To make sure he was all right. But when the opportunity of the nanny position presented itself, I couldn’t pass it up. I promised Rose . . .” Her voice cracked. “I promised I would take care of her baby if anything happened to her. I had to be sure your family wasn’t as terrible as she’d made out in her letters.”

  “And if we were?”

  Her gaze faltered and she shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Somehow he didn’t quite believe her. Had she planned to challenge him for custody of the boy?

  “You’ve lived with us for two months now. You saw how much we love Christian, how well he’s cared for. Why didn’t you tell me the truth then?”

  The distinct tick of the desk clock matched the cadence of his heartbeat.

  “I was too afraid,” she whispered.

  “Afraid of what?” He held his breath, praying for her to say something that would make him understand.

  “That you’d hate me. Like you do now.” She pressed her handkerchief to her mouth.

  Andrew exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his beard, conflicting emotions battling within him.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked softly. “Will you tell your parents?”

  Every instinct told him he should order her to leave immediately. But staring at her profile, the delicate curve of her cheek, the sweep of her lashes, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Silently he cursed his weakness. “I haven’t decided.”

  She took a step toward him, a glimmer of hope brimming in her eyes. “Nothing has to change. I still want to be Christian’s nanny.”

  The muscles in his neck seized. How could she expect him to pretend nothing had changed when everything had?

  “I love him, Andrew. He’s my nephew too. The only thing I have left of my sister. Don’t I have a right to be part of his life?”

  Her pleading expression was more than he could endure. He turned to stare out the window before he caved in and granted her request. “The problem,” he said without looking at her, “is that I no longer trust you. And if I can’t trust you, how can I let you be responsible for Christian?”

  “I would never do anything to harm him.” Her voice quivered. “Even if you can’t forgive me for lying, surely you must believe that.”

  He wanted to believe her. To be able to say he forgave her. But he couldn’t force the words from his mouth. “I need time to think. I’ll have an answer by tomorrow. In the meantime, Virginia will look after Christian.”

  Andrew heard a sharp intake of breath and what sounded like a quiet sob. He clenched his hands into fists, not daring to look at her for fear that witnessing her tears would weaken what little resolve he had left.

  Still facing the window, he didn’t move a muscle until the door had clicked shut behind her.

  CHAPTER 27

  May 1, 1918

  Dear Grace,

  It’s official. You are going to be an aunt! Sometime in late November if the doctor is right. I pray Frank will be back in time to see his son or daughter come into this world. If only you could be here, Grace. I’d feel so much less alone.

  Grace could not face Virginia. Not with a flood of tears dripping from her cheeks. She needed time to recover her equilibrium before she went back to the nursery.

  Seeking the solitude of the garden, she slipped out the rear door and crossed the yard. Once within its sanctuary, she sank onto the fountain ledge and let the full extent of her despair pour out. Her shoulders heaved with the force of her sobs, so deep she could barely catch her breath.

  Andrew had discovered her secret and he now despised her. Could barely stand to look at her. And when he did, the contempt in his blue eyes made her heart shrivel in her chest.

  It was only a matter of time before he’d demand she pack her bags and leave. He’d already admitted he didn’t trust her. How could she ever think he would let her stay after her dishonesty?

  If only she’d told him the truth before he found out.

  She gulped in a huge breath, her tortured lungs expanding within her chest. She had no recourse left to her. All she could do was await his mercy—or his punishment—for her transgression.

  Perhaps once Andrew’s anger cooled, he’d realize that she was right. That his father would never have let her near Christian if he’d known her true identity. And that she hadn’t lied for any harmful purpose, only to honor Rose’s request.

  Are you certain of that? Her conscience nagged her with a fresh sense of guilt.

  If her intentions were completely honorable, she’d never be entertaining the idea of taking Christian from the Eastons.

  No, not from the Eastons. From Cecilia Carmichael’s harmful influence.

  Grace twisted the limp handkerchief between her fingers. If Andrew was planning to marry a kind woman, one who actually cared about Christian, she’d have no qualms leaving the baby in their care. But she couldn’t risk Cecilia inflicting severe emotional damage on the boy with her cold indifference.

  Lord, I need your help. I’m in a terrible predicament, and I don’t know how to fix it.

  Above her, the birds continued to twitter in the trees, oblivious to her distress. If only she had such a carefree existence and could fly away from all her problems. But she couldn’t. She’d have to be brave and face the consequences of her lies. She dried her eyes, took a deep breath, and got slowly to her feet. All she could do was pray for forgiveness and see what God—and Andrew—had in store for her next.

  The next morning, Andrew knocked reluctantly on Grace’s bedroom door. He’d spent several agonizing hours trying to decide what to do with the knowledge of her true identity. His heart and his pri
de still stung at being taken in by her deception, but despite everything she’d done, he knew she loved the boy as much as he did. And in the end, he found he simply couldn’t stomach the idea of ripping one more maternal figure from Christian’s life.

  Grace answered after a few seconds, adjusting the sleeve of her blouse. Her hair flowed in a shining mass over her shoulders.

  He swallowed hard and focused on her chin. “I won’t take much of your time. I wanted to let you know my decision.”

  “Very well.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

  “For Christian’s sake, I’ve decided to keep your secret—for now.”

  Relief crashed over her features, and she bit her bottom lip.

  “But know that I’ll be watching your every move. If you give me the slightest provocation, I won’t hesitate to terminate you.”

  “I understand.” She opened her mouth, closed it again. “Thank you, Andrew.”

  He flinched at the use of his name. She didn’t deserve such intimacy, not after her betrayal. “From now on, you should address me as Mr. Easton. I’ve allowed too much familiarity with a staff member.”

  She winced as though he’d slapped her. “As you wish,” she whispered, hurt shining from her eyes.

  He hardened himself to the pain on her face, yet he couldn’t seem to force his feet to move away. When she closed her door with a soft click, he shoved his regrets down deep and headed for the stairs.

  As he descended to the foyer, his thoughts turned to Cecilia, and it struck him with astounding force that perhaps she’d been right about Grace all along, and he’d been too blind to see the truth. He’d built Grace up in his mind and his heart as a paragon of virtue. The perfect woman. But it had been nothing more than an illusion, a figment of his imagination. Grace was just as flawed as Cecilia.

  At least Celia didn’t try to hide who she really was. For all her faults, Andrew knew exactly where he stood with her.

  Seated in the Carmichaels’ sitting room, Andrew drummed his fingers on his thighs, trying to dispel his restless energy. Mrs. Carmichael’s haughty white cat stared at him from her perch on the back of the sofa as though daring him to invade her territory.