“There is a little while yet,” Harry said. He had risen early and started on his duties; no matter how he was distracted, he was not prepared to be in a position where his standards would slip.
“Thank you for the flowers,” Grace said with a flush.
“I think the maid thinks I have a tender spot for the Duchess’s sister,” Harry said with a grimace.
“And do you?” Grace asked with a coy smile.
“What do you think?” he growled, before lifting her onto his lap where he could kiss her breathless.
Grace wrapped her arms around Harry’s neck and rested her forehead against his. “I wish I could stay here all day.”
“You’d get bored of me,” Harry responded.
“Never!” Grace laughed.
“What do you have planned for today?” Harry asked. He wanted her near him but would have to fit snatched meetings between her social engagements, another reminder that he could never be part of her circle.
Grace sighed. “We have morning visits and then Mr Workman is taking myself and Rosalind out to the seaside,” she said, laying her head on Harry’s shoulder, her enthusiasm gone at the thought of the day ahead.
“Mr Workman?” Harry asked, trying not to show his gritted teeth.
“A cousin of the vicar; Mr Workman is passing through on a visit,” Grace explained, feeling buoyed by the tightening of his hands around her.
“I see,” Harry said, suspecting correctly Mr Workman’s motives.
“No, I don’t think you do,” Grace said quickly. She sat up looking Harry fully in the face, easy to do when she sat on his lap. It also meant he could not turn away from her, showing her the full extent of the thunder in his eyes. “I don’t care two figs about Mr Workman; I do not want to go on this day out but am obliged to do so. I want to spend my day with Mr Long, and only Mr Long;is that clear?” she asked firmly.
Harry looked at her a moment before smiling slightly. “I’m not apologising for being envious of someone who can be seen in public with you,” he said.
“Patience,” Grace said, but both of them knew she was being overly optimistic. No one was going to be happy at their feelings for each other. She was trying not to think of the long-term outcome of that; it was too painful to think about.
“I think I shall have to suggest that His Grace grow a garden full of Dianthus,” Harry said, changing the subject. “It seems wrong meeting you in a garden full of flowers you dislike.”
“Oh, I don’t dislike them,” Grace said, “In fact they are becoming more appealing after this morning. But I think you should grow Dianthus in your garden, so that every morning you can look outside and think of me.”
“I do that without the need of flowers,” Harry admitted with a faint blush.
Grace smiled and kissed him gently. “No one has ever said something so sweet to me,” she said honestly.
“You’ve been surrounded by fools,” Harry said gruffly. Again, her words suggested of being overlooked, which created nothing but the feeling of anger in his chest. Such a beautiful creature deserved to be placed on the highest pedestal not overlooked in any way.
“I shall inform my sisters of your sentiments the next time we are together!” Grace smiled. “I am partly to blame,” she confessed, becoming more serious. “I never felt I fitted anywhere really. I was the only one of the four of us who returned home from the finishing school early. I hated being there: I felt so out of my depth; I was terribly homesick. I just wanted to be left alone with my garden.”
“Were you not given the choice of whether or not to go?” Harry asked.
“No, it was part of father’s plan to get his daughters well married. We had to go to the most exclusive finishing school. You have seen Rosalind; she is naturally graceful and poised. Annabelle can survive anywhere, usually by causing mayhem. Eleanor is very intelligent, but I only ever wanted to be with my plants. I like people but not strangers so much; I cannot be entertaining on demand as the others can: I just feel unsure of myself all of the time.” Grace didn’t normally voice her opinions, but somehow talking to Harry was comforting. She knew he listened to her every word.
“Did your father allow you to return early?” Harry asked.
“Yes, I think thanks mainly to Rosalind’s intervention,” Grace admitted. “I had written to her, and I think she read between the lines and realised I was close to running away from school. No one paying top price for a high class finishing school wants to spend time with someone who is always trying to get covered in soil before she is happy, so the other girls left me to my own devices, which was a relief in one way but also so very lonely.”
“It must have been hard for you,” Harry said, surprising himself at the annoyance he felt towards a group of faceless girls.
“It was, but it doesn’t matter now; I don’t feel lonely anymore,” Grace said, snuggling deeper into Harry as if he could ward off any dark feelings she might have.
Harry decided there was only one way he knew of to take her mind off everything that had happened in the past. He bent his finger and lifted her chin gently until he could see her face. “I don’t want you to ever feel lonely again,” he whispered before kissing her. His gentle kiss soon turned into something deeper when Grace moaned into him, wrapping her arms further around his neck.
*
Mr Workman arrived on horseback. He had intended hiring a carriage for his day out but had received a note from the Duchess of Sudworth, explaining her husband would be happier if she were to travel in their own carriage. An explanation of the Duchess’s condition had been necessary to not cause offence at such a request, but she had also asked for his confidence on the matter.
The day was not as he had planned, but he hoped the Duchess would be amenable to allowing him some time alone with her sister. He had been pleasantly surprised to find a young woman as pleasing as Miss Johnson. If his feelings continued in the same vein after spending more time with her, he had high hopes of having company on his voyage abroad. He had presumed he would marry in America, but now he was willing to delay his departure a little if it meant he could secure her hand. He had seen that Mr Cressey was also enamoured of his chosen one, but he felt confident his suit would prove more fruitful.
He was led into the morning room on his arrival to face the Duchess, Miss Johnson and Mrs Adams. He noticed the gleam in Mrs Adams’s eyes and prepared himself for her torment. He had not long to wait.
“So, you are hoping to woo Miss Johnson with the seaside are you? I applaud your inventiveness, but you’d as well walk her around the gardens,” Mrs Adams said with a smile.
Grace flushed, “I do like the seaside,” she said quickly.
“A good choice then,” Mrs Adams said with a mischievous look. She was gentler on Grace than she was with others of her acquaintance, knowing the young woman was a naturally quiet soul. Mrs Adams was not callous in seeking amusement from her neighbours, but young men such as Mr Workman were fair game.
“Thank you,” Mr Workman responded with a slight nod of his head.
“You’ll be spending a lot longer on the sea soon,” Mrs Adams continued. “When do you plan to sail?”
“I have not yet booked my passage,” Mr Workman acknowledged, his heart sinking slightly at the speculative gleam in Mrs Adams’s eye. He had no wish to show his hand until he was sure of Miss Johnson’s regard.
“Ah, I see how it is; well, I wish you good luck. I shall take my leave, my dear,” Mrs Adams said, turning to Rosalind. “Make sure you do not overexert yourself; I’m sure the youngsters will find something to do while you watch from a distance!”
Rosalind smiled at the old woman. It was not clear quite who was the more embarrassed at Mrs Adams’s words, Grace or Mr Workman. Their friend had confirmed what Rosalind suspected: Mr Workman was developing a tendre for her sister. Rosalind could understand why but, after the conversation she had shared with Grace about him leaving England’s shores for many years, Rosalind worried Grace would b
e persuaded to leave with him. Her fears would have been slightly eased to know Grace held no affection for the young man and never would. Although if Rosalind had known where Grace’s affections really lay, there was no guarantee she would have taken more comfort in that particular situation.
The party were to travel with the carriage top down. It was a pleasant day and they wanted to appreciate the sunshine. Grace had fussed around Rosalind, ensuring she was covered in blankets so could catch no chill, but Rosalind had laughed her concerns away.
As the coach pulled away down the drive, Grace noticed a movement to her left. She turned slightly and flushed to see Harry raise his hat to the coach. Rosalind and Mr Workman also noticed the gesture and nodded in response, but did not notice anything amiss with the gesture, since it was the action of a deferential servant. Grace had noticed the firm set of Harry’s jaw as he stared at Mr Workman; he gave Grace a glance, but the set of his expression did not fill her with confidence. His eyes were the colour of dark thunderclouds, betraying what he was feeling inside.
Grace sighed quietly; she thought she had reassured Harry before being forced to leave him but obviously not. It would be difficult for him; she was aware of that, but he had to understand she would be forced to go through similar situations until her family could accept her decision. When that would be, she had no idea, if ever; but she had to think they would. The thought of not being with Harry was too awful to contemplate.
The three chatted along the journey. Mr Workman was an easy-going young man, and Rosalind was always comfortable in any company, especially when the young man was eager to please and entertain as was their escort. Grace joined in with the chatter but would always remain the quietest one of the party. There was only one person with whom she was completely comfortable, but he was not with them and could never be.
They were all ready to stretch their legs by the time the sea came into sight, and each alighted from the carriage with relief. Mr Workman escorted both ladies along the promenade until they reached a tea shop that offered views of the sea without the blustering wind. Mr Workman was all concern as he ensured the ladies were comfortably seated. He insisted on ordering far more cake than was necessary, filling the cake stands with lemon cakes, almond slices, cherry sponge and caraway cake. After filling themselves on the tasty treats available and washing it down with copious amounts of tea, they set-off once more.
“Please walk ahead of me,” Rosalind said as Mr Workman offered his arm. “I can go at my own pace and not hold you back.”
“Rosalind are you unwell?” Grace asked, immediately concerned for her sister.
“No, not at all!” Rosalind reassured her. “I just wish to be able to walk without keeping apace with you both. Please go on,” she instructed, ignoring the pained look from Grace. As much as Rosalind wanted her sister to live near her, if Mr Workman were the most suitable suitor, Rosalind was not going to stand in their way.
Mr Workman offered his arm to Grace, and she reluctantly linked her arm through his. They walked slightly ahead of Rosalind, Grace feeling uncomfortable being in such close proximity to Mr Workman. Grace was more withdrawn than previously, mainly to do with her mortification about her sister’s obvious actions. She was fully aware of what Rosalind was trying to do, as the excuse she had used was a poor one. Rosalind was at least five inches taller than Grace, so it would be more likely Grace keeping pace with Mr Workman and Rosalind rather than the other way around.
“Mrs Adams is right; I brought you to the sea for my own selfish reasons when I should have taken your preference into consideration and taken you to a beautiful landscape instead,” Mr Workman said amenably, breaking the silence that had developed between them.
“As I said to Mrs Adams, I do like the sea,” Grace responded.
“I love the sea, I confess,” Mr Workman continued. “I am excited at the prospect at spending weeks travelling across it.”
“It would be fine on a day like today,” Grace acknowledged, watching the small waves tumbling onto the beach below. There was very little sound from the movement as the wind had worn itself out and been replaced with a light breeze to spur the waves towards the shore.
“Do you not see the beauty in the anger of the sea when it is rough and crashing onto the shore?” Mr Workman asked.
“Oh yes, but that doesn’t mean I would relish travelling on it when it is so angry.”
Mr Workman laughed, “I may find out neither do I, Miss Johnson.”
Grace smiled slightly. “You mentioned to Mrs Adams you have not booked your passage; I thought it would be nearing the time when you would be leaving.”
“It should, but I find I am enjoying my entertainments with my cousin more than I anticipated,” Mr Workman replied, with a smirk, knowing he had already told her his cousin left him to his own devices while he tended to his flock all day long. He wanted to say more but resisted. He did not wish to frighten off the young lady at his side. He was willing to wait and bide his time with her as he would hopefully have many more years to treasure her if his plans progressed as he wished.
“Don’t let the other businessmen hear you,” Grace teased. “They will mourn your lack of commitment to your trade!”
Mr Workman chuckled. “Yes, woe betide me if I enjoy my leisure! It should all be work, work, work!”
“That is how my father would see it, certainly,” Grace responded.
“I’m inclined to agree for most of the time, but I will not sacrifice everything in the pursuit of business; my happiness has to be considered also.”
“It sounds very sensible,” Grace approved. “My father missed such a lot through staying at his business; we would not see him for days on end. We missed him.” Grace acknowledged to herself, if their mother had been more involved, their father’s absence might not have been as pronounced, but she kept those thoughts to herself. She was not able to say the things that came into her mind in the way she did when speaking to Harry.
“I hope no child of mine would long for me at home. I am working hard now to allow me to work less in the future; that is my grand plan anyhow,” Mr Workman smiled at Grace.
“There seems no reason to suggest your plans will not come to fruition,” Grace acknowledged. She wanted to keep the conversation light but had suspicions if she gave a hint, Mr Workman would change his tone and be more serious. It was a situation she wanted to avoid at all costs.
“I hope so, Miss Johnson, I really do; although my priorities have changed a little since my arrival in Lancashire,” Mr Workman said, squeezing Grace’s hand, which rested on his arm as they walked.
“I think it is time we returned to my sister,” Grace suggested, turning and using the movement as an excuse to remove her hand from his arm. She started to walk back quicker than their stroll out before receiving the offer of his arm again.
Mr Workman did not argue with Grace’s movement; he felt he was making progress; his companion seemed to be more relaxed with his company. Hopefully, if he persevered, he would continue to make progress.
Rosalind had seated herself on a bench looking out to sea. She had Grace and Mr Workman in her sight the whole time, but she was confident there would be no impropriety; Mr Workman seemed thoroughly decent and aware of how to treat the reticent Grace.
When the party joined once more, Mr Workman insisted they share further refreshments before they set-off on the journey back. He sent a message for the carriage whilst they drank their tea. He thought it wise to ask for the top to be raised as the temperature would drop on the return journey.
*
Grace sat with Rosalind and Annie for a while after Mr Workman left before making her excuses to once more venture into the garden. She had only made plans to see Harry the following morning, but the fixed expression on his face had been at the back of her mind all day, and she wanted to reassure him he had nothing to worry about.
She strolled through the gardens, allowing herself to enjoy them. She could not always be rushing thr
ough to meet Harry, or she would cause suspicion by her actions. A few under-gardeners were working, but there was no sign of Harry. On her return journey, she checked the orangery and knew he was inside. She had never been so aware of anyone in her life as she was of him and yet she had known him such a short time.
He did not turn at first when she said his name, so she walked over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder and resting her head against his back. Grace felt the tension in his shoulders subside at her touch, but he made no movement to turn.
Grace remained silent; she guessed what he must be feeling, and she did not want to dismiss his concerns. Finally, he spoke. “We are being foolish,” he said quietly.
“Are we? I thought being with you was the most sensible thing I have ever done,” Grace responded quietly.
“We are from different worlds; there will be no happy ending for us.” The words were killing Harry, but they had to be said.
“I’m only truly happy when I’m with you. You are all I want,” Grace admitted, feeling bolder when he could not see her face.
Harry groaned; the question that had been haunting him all day had to be asked, even if she stormed off. “Are you going to marry him?”
“No!” Grace said, moving quickly to be in front of Harry. She reached up and cupped Harry’s face with her hands. “He is passing through and wants to spend time with someone who also does not know many in the area. There is nothing between us and never will be; I have no feelings for him and never shall!”
“He has feelings for you,” Harry said quietly. He had seen the looks that Mr Workman had been aiming in her direction. Workman was no fool; of course, he would want to marry such a gorgeous creature; he did.
“I’ve already told Rosalind I would never marry him. I like him; he is a pleasant gentleman, but I don’t long to be with him when I am not in his company: I don’t love him,” Grace said, her eyes not moving from Harry’s.
Harry felt his throat tighten at her words. “I have no idea how I am going to live without you when the time comes,” he said honestly.
Grace: A Regency Romance (The Four Sisters' Series Book 3) Page 10