The Best of Intentions

by Susan Anne Mason

  Think about Cecilia, Grace. And the horrible life she has planned for Christian. You’re doing this for him and for Rose. Remember that.

  Before leaving, there was one more thing she needed to do. On tiptoe, she made her way down the corridor leading to the library. The loud ticking of the grandfather clock reverberated through the main floor. Grace entered the room, crossed quickly to Mr. Easton’s desk, and scanned the neat desktop. As Andrew had promised, an envelope bearing her name sat in plain view, bulging with her last wages and what she expected was likely a bonus. She stuffed it into her satchel and headed to the side entrance. Once outside, she inhaled the now familiar scent of roses that drifted over from the garden, one she would forever associate with Fairlawn and with Andrew.

  Christian was already becoming heavy in her arms. How she wished she could take the pram, but it would only end up being a hindrance, another way for them to track her down.

  “Grace! Why are you not at the church?” Toby’s loud voice rang out behind her.

  She froze. Cold chills shot through her body. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be outside the church, waiting to drive the Eastons to the reception.

  She pasted on a smile as she turned, willing her knees not to shake. “Christian is a little cranky. I didn’t think they needed a wailing baby to interrupt the ceremony.”

  Toby came closer, frowning. “He looks happy enough now. I could drive you over if you’d like.” He seemed to be studying her. Did he suspect something?

  Panic clutched at Grace’s throat. She didn’t have time to waste. If she missed the eleven o’clock streetcar, she’d have to wait thirty minutes for the next one. “Thank you, but no. I’m going to take him for a walk. The fresh air always makes him feel better.”

  There was no way around it now. She’d have to take the pram.

  Toby followed her over to where the baby carriage was parked. “I could come with you. I don’t have to be back to the church for a while.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Toby.” She laid Christian in the pram and arranged the blankets over him, then she placed the bags in the boot of the pram. She turned to face him. “If you’ll excuse me.” Everything depended on her getting rid of him as soon as possible.

  He stared at her satchel and the other cases she’d stowed in the pram. “If you’re just going for a walk, why do you have so many bags?”

  Bile rose in the back of her throat. She tried to appear nonchalant. “I’m going to visit Mrs. Chamberlain, and I thought I’d bring some of the things I won’t be needing over to the boardinghouse. Less to move later on.”

  “That’s a long way away.” Suspicion laced his words.

  Of course he would remember driving her there once before. Her hands shook as she lifted the brake and pulled the carriage out onto the walkway. “A nice long walk is exactly what I need today.”

  “It’s Andrew, isn’t it? He’s the one you’re in love with.”

  Grace stilled, her heart battering her rib cage. If Toby had figured it out, did everyone else know as well? She raised her eyes to his, neither confirming nor denying his claim.

  He stared at her for a second, then nodded. “I thought so. No wonder you don’t want to go to the church.”

  At the pity on his face, the emotions she’d worked so hard to repress swirled through her chest. “I really need to get going.”

  His hand clamped down on her arm. “Don’t do anything foolish, Grace. Something you can’t take back.” His green eyes bore into hers.

  She jerked her arm away from him. “Please forget you ever saw me, Toby. It will be better for everyone that way.”

  Blinking hard, she pushed the pram into motion and headed down the drive at a fast clip. Before she passed through the iron gates, she peered over her shoulder.

  Toby stood motionless where she’d left him, watching her go.

  Andrew paced the floor of the anteroom in the cathedral, his nerves stretched to a thin line. His two work colleagues, who would serve as groomsmen, laughed at something on the far side of the room. Watching them, Andrew had never felt more alone. His thoughts turned to Ginny. How he missed her wit, her quirky sense of humor, her unwavering support. Despite the residual anger at what she’d done, Andrew wished she could be here to share his wedding day. What words of wisdom would she have given him to help him through these last few minutes before he committed his life to a woman he didn’t love?

  A humorless laugh rose in his chest, but he quickly stifled it. Neither she nor Frank would ever have found themselves in such a position. They had married the people they loved, despite the obstacles in their way.

  Too bad Andrew didn’t have that luxury.

  His father poked his head inside the door. “Everything under control in here?”

  As Andrew’s best man, Father was keeping busy by making sure all the details on the groom’s side were handled.

  “We’re fine. Is the church filling up?”

  “Filled to the rafters.” His father beamed. “According to the society page in the Star, this will be the wedding of the season. After Virginia’s elopement, I never thought the press would report anything favorable about us again, but fortunately, these events sell newspapers. We must remember to let them take your photograph after the ceremony.”

  Andrew attempted a smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. Still, he was grateful he had given his parents this day of happiness. After the fiasco with Virginia, he’d worried that his father’s heart might give out under the strain, and that his mother might never leave her room.

  “I’ll go and check on your mother again, and then it will be time to start. The car arrived with Cecilia and her parents a few minutes ago.”

  Andrew’s stomach churned. “I’m ready whenever she is.”

  Liar.

  He turned to the small rectangular window that overlooked a side garden. Too small to provide any manner of escape. Through a clear section of the refracted glass, he could see an array of rosebushes that lined the fence. Immediately, an image of Grace in the garden came to his mind with haunting clarity—the way she’d smiled as she held the rose petals to her nose. The way the moonlight had cast its spell over her flawless features. The way she’d filled his world with joy.

  A dull ache radiated out from his chest. I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I, Lord? Honoring my father and mother?

  Then why did he feel so wretched?

  A knock sounded on the outer door, jarring him from his foolish memories.

  “Come in.”

  Toby McDonald stepped inside. He pulled off his chauffeur’s cap and ran his fingers around the brim, his eyes darting around the room. “Excuse me, Mr. Easton. Could I have a brief word with you?”

  Andrew frowned. “What could be so important that you would interrupt me minutes before I’m to be married?”

  McDonald glanced at the two other men. “It’s a personal matter, sir.”

  “Then I suggest it can wait for a more appropriate time. Or you can take it up with my father while I’m on my honeymoon.” Anger churned like acid in his gut. He strode back to the window.

  “It’s about Miss Foley.”

  Andrew stiffened, each vertebrae solidifying to send pain shooting through his body. He couldn’t bear to talk about Grace today.

  “You should know that she’s in love with you,” he said quietly.

  Andrew jerked his head around. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How the devil could Toby know that? And even if it were true, it was much too late now.

  “That’s not all,” Toby went on. “I have some important information that I need to tell you in private.”

  Andrew glared at the man. The last thing he needed right now was any more drama.

  “Please. Two minutes is all I’m asking.”

  Andrew blasted out a breath. “Charlie, Brent, could you give us a minute?”

  When the two had left the room, he turned to the chauffeur. “Spit it out.”
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  Toby gripped his cap, wetting his lips before he began. “You’ve a right to know the type of woman you’re about to marry.”

  “How would you know anything about Cecilia? You’ve never even spoken to the woman.”

  “Oh, but I have. On the night of Mrs. Easton’s birthday, Miss Carmichael approached me in the kitchen. Said she had a job for me.” He paused. “She offered me a sizable amount of money to seduce Grace. She wanted to ruin Grace’s character so she’d be fired.”

  Andrew’s jaw fell open, his brain grasping to process what he’d said. “I don’t believe you.”

  “What reason would I have to lie?” Toby’s eyes were steely. “When I refused her offer, she was furious. But then she said she’d figure out another way to do it. Whatever that meant.”

  Andrew clenched his back teeth together. His mind flew to the incident with the necklace in Grace’s room. Had that been her alternate plan when Toby wouldn’t cooperate? Celia’s tears and pleadings had convinced Andrew she’d made a mistake, but had it all been an act just to mollify him?

  “If you’re in love with Grace too,” Toby continued, “I thought you should have the chance to do something about it before it’s too late.”

  Andrew threw out his hands in exasperation. “It is too late. There are five hundred people in that church waiting to witness my marriage.”

  “So rather than face embarrassment, you’d marry a woman who could be that deliberately cruel to another person?” Toby gave him a look of disgust, then rammed his cap back on his head. “Probably just as well. You don’t deserve someone as fine as Grace.”

  He stalked toward the door, opened it, and then stopped. Slowly he turned, his brow wreathed in a frown. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to tell you this, but I ran into Grace and the baby outside Fairlawn. She had two bags stored in the pram and was acting very nervous. I’m not sure what’s going on, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Seconds later, the door slammed behind him.

  Andrew stood alone in the center of the anteroom, a maelstrom of emotion sweeping through him. This was a nightmare. An unmitigated disaster. He’d always known Cecilia was flighty and vain, but was she as cold and calculating as Toby implied?

  Do you know she intends to ship Christian off to boarding school as soon as he’s old enough? That she will never consider him as one of your children? She told me so last night and appeared to take great delight in delivering the news.

  Andrew hadn’t taken Grace’s accusation seriously, but now he realized Cecilia wasn’t just issuing idle threats. She most likely intended to follow through with her plan, which meant she’d been lying to him all along about trying to forge a bond with the boy. How could he stand at the altar before God and pledge his life to such a lying, manipulative person? Worse yet, how could he subject Christian to her hatefulness? The idea literally turned his stomach.

  And now Toby said Grace had her bags stowed in the baby carriage. Surely she would never do something like . . .

  Andrew bolted to the door, panic flowing through him like a surge of electricity. He ran into the vestibule, his glance falling briefly on the people milling about, then he raced out the front door, praying Toby hadn’t left.

  The chauffeur sat in the car in front of the church.

  Andrew ignored the greetings the guests called out to him and jumped into the passenger seat. “Take me to Grace.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Fifteen minutes later, Andrew ran into the nursery, his lungs near bursting. Before blindly scouring the city streets, he decided to check the house first, in case Grace had come back.

  But she wasn’t there, and the crib was empty.

  Toby had said they were about to go for a walk when he’d seen them. Yet it was an unusual time of day. They normally went to the park in the afternoon.

  An uncomfortable feeling niggled at Andrew’s subconscious. Something was different. He scanned the room. Frank and Rose’s wedding picture was gone. Had the maid moved it? Or perhaps broken the glass?

  His gaze fell on the basket by the rocking chair, the one that held the quilt Grace was sewing. All the fabric was gone. Andrew’s breathing grew raspy. He opened the dresser drawers. Nothing seemed amiss, except maybe they weren’t as full as usual.

  Still . . .

  He knocked on the door to Grace’s room and when there was no response, pushed it open. The room was dim, the drapes pulled across the window. Why hadn’t Grace opened them? He did so now and looked around the room. Instantly, he noticed a difference. Grace’s Bible was missing from her nightstand. The vanity top sat bare, her hairbrush and pins strangely absent. Andrew opened the closet, trepidation clawing up his spine.

  Empty!

  He moved to the dresser and yanked open the drawers. They had been cleared out completely. Except for the apron on the bed, the room held no evidence Grace had ever lived here.

  Andrew’s heart beat too fast in his chest.

  Grace was gone. Surely, she wouldn’t . . .

  No. She would never do that to him. To his mother.

  He raced out of the room and down the stairs. The echo of his footsteps in the eerie silence reminded him that everyone was at the church. Surely there had to be one staff member left to manage things.

  He rushed into the kitchen, where a young maid stood at the sink.

  “Have you seen Miss Foley or Master Christian?” he shouted, certain he must resemble a wild-eyed fanatic.

  “No, sir. They haven’t come down here.”

  He gulped in a breath, trying to slow his mind. He needed to think logically. “If she returns, ask her to wait in the parlor for me.”

  “But, sir, aren’t you supposed to be getting married now?”

  He didn’t bother to reply. Before the baffled girl could ask him anything else, he ran back up a flight of stairs and out the side door. He knew the route Grace usually took on her outings. He’d follow it and probably find them sitting in the park enjoying the day.

  There had to be a perfectly good explanation why Grace’s things were gone.

  He ran down the street and headed toward the park, scanning all the pedestrians as he went. Up ahead, a woman pushed a baby carriage.

  Grace! Waves of relief flooded his system. It had been innocent after all.

  Andrew jogged around a couple strolling on the sidewalk and ran up behind her, grasping her elbow. “Grace. Thank goodness. I’ve been looking—”

  The woman turned, and Andrew’s mouth fell open.

  She yanked her arm free. “I think you have the wrong person, sir.”

  Andrew peered into the carriage at a baby in a pink bonnet. The blood pounded in his ears. “I-I’m terribly sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  The woman nodded and continued on her way.

  Andrew just stood there, attempting to regulate his breathing and pull himself together, as people pushed by him. Then, with grim determination, he returned to his search.

  As he neared the streetcar stop, something caught his attention. Andrew slowed, his heart rolling in his chest. A familiar handle protruded from the greenery. Christian’s pram had been purposely shoved between the bushes.

  Andrew reached inside and rifled through the blankets. Empty.

  He blew out a ragged breath, his lungs constricting. There was no denying it now.

  Grace had taken Christian and in all likelihood was headed to England.

  He bent over the handle of the pram, chills and heat rushing through him.

  Lord, I need your help. How am I ever going to find them now?

  Andrew pulled his car to a stop outside the cathedral, not caring if he blocked anyone else’s. He wouldn’t be here long. Only long enough to let his parents know what had happened and explain to Cecilia why he had to leave. Despite his disillusionment with her, he owed her that much at least.

  Andrew rushed into the vestibule, ignoring the curious looks of the people standing around.

  The first person he saw was his father headin
g toward him. “Andrew, thank God. We’ve been worried sick.”

  “I’m sorry, Father. I’m afraid I have unfortunate news.” He slowed his pace only slightly. “Christian is missing. I’m going in search of him, but first I have to speak to Cecilia.”

  “What do you mean missing?” His father’s eyes bulged.

  Andrew stopped outside the women’s anteroom. “I’ll explain later. Time is of the essence.”

  He rapped once and stepped inside without waiting for an answer.

  The women gasped. One of them leapt up from her chair. “He’s here, Celia! I told you he would never desert you.”

  Andrew focused on his bride. She looked like a true princess, from the tiara on her head to the waves of satin and lace that surrounded her slender frame.

  “Andrew. What are you doing? You can’t see me before the ceremony.” For once her blue eyes held no guile, no secrets—just confusion and yes, fear.

  “I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.” He turned to the other girls. “Could you give us some privacy, please?”

  The women scurried from the room. Andrew could only imagine the gossip that must be flying among the guests.

  Cecilia rose from her seat. “You’re scaring me, Andrew. Is someone unwell?”

  “No, at least I don’t think so.” An idea dawned that maybe Christian had fallen ill again and Grace had taken him to the hospital. That might explain their absence. He’d check there first. “Christian is missing.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t have time to explain. It’s possible Grace has taken him. All her things are gone too. I have to find them before she leaves the country.”

  Celia’s mouth fell open. “Do not tell me you’re planning to leave me here.” Her bottom lip trembled.

  “I’m sorry. . . .” Guilt twisted his insides.

  “No, this is not happening.” She marched over and jabbed a finger at him. “Let the authorities handle it while we go on with the wedding.”