Blinded by Grace: Book Five of the Cotillion Ball series (Crimson Romance)

by Lower, Becky

  • • •

  Halwyn took his customary seat beside Saffron at breakfast the next morning. Her sunny disposition was usually appealing and brought a smile to his face, but he had heavy issues to discuss with his mother this morning, and Saffron should not have to listen to them. She tried to draw him into her ten-year-old world as she related her achievements from the previous day.

  “Nanny Camille and I wrote a story yesterday, Halwyn, about being at a ball. I had a dress with a huge skirt and a tiara on my head.”

  “That’s nice, Saffy.” He reached over and patted her on her blonde locks, so similar to his own.

  She huffed at him. “And I had fairy wings on my back and all the boys in the room wanted to dance with me and touch my wings.”

  “Uh-huh.” Halwyn turned a page in his newspaper, unable to feign an interest. He had more weighty issues this morning.

  In her typical childish fashion, Saffron became easily bored when she was not at the center of attention and decided to leave the room in favor of her bedroom and her dollhouse.

  “What is wrong with you today, Halwyn?” His mother wasted no time getting to the heart of the situation. “Not only did you totally ignore Saffron, which is not your manner at all, but you haven’t even touched Cook’s delicious cinnamon rolls, after she made them just for you.”

  He blinked as he brought his eyes back into focus, and picked up one of the sweet rolls. Taking a bite of the tasty cinnamon bun gave him a moment to think about how best to phrase his question.

  “How well do you know Sophie Huffman, Mother?”

  “Well enough to know she’s turned into a miserable shrew of a woman since Grace’s father died. Why do you ask?”

  “When I noticed Grace last night, I asked her to dance. And her mother’s reaction was extremely strange. At least it seemed so to me. As if she didn’t care for it at all. Especially when, after we danced a second time, other men followed my lead and danced with her, too.”

  Charlotte peered at him. “A second time? You danced with her twice in the same evening?”

  Halwyn shifted in his chair. “Well, uh, yes, I did. Her entire demeanor shifted when she was near her mother, and I wanted Sophie to see her daughter’s true self.”

  Charlotte put her hand over her heart. “My Lord, what were you thinking? You do realize people will now begin to talk about the two of you.”

  “I don’t believe so, Mother. For God’s sake, I’ve known her since she was a child.”

  “But she’s not a child anymore, Halwyn. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  Halwyn blew out a breath. “Yes, Mother, I did notice. She no longer stutters, and is now a grown woman, the same as Jasmine and Heather. She wears long gowns and pearls.”

  His mother’s sudden smile made him uneasy. “So you noticed the pearls, did you? Tell me, Halwyn, was she wearing any perfume?”

  “I believe so. Why do you ask?” He didn’t care for the way his mother was tapping her finger against her cheek. Her familiar motion usually meant she was plotting something, and he believed he had just placed himself in her crosshairs. She attempted to hide her smile with her hand, but Halwyn noticed anyway. He grew uncomfortable under his mother’s gaze.

  “Do you remember what the scent was?” Charlotte folded her napkin in a grand show of boredom.

  “I, uh, believe it was lilac water.”

  Charlotte beamed, and Halwyn became even more uncomfortable … especially when she continued the conversation, adopting a casual tone.

  “I thought her white gown was quite lovely.”

  Halwyn’s quizzical glance skimmed over his mother’s face. “Her gown was lilac, the same as her scent.”

  He only thought his mother beamed before. She was positively radiant now.

  “You’ll have to come with us to the theater and to other events this season. After all, it is my duty to see that you marry this year.”

  “Mother, please. I’m not about to become one of your ‘projects.’ In the first place, your track record hasn’t been really spectacular in the matchmaking department. And second, I don’t need your help finding a partner. I’m more than competent enough to find my own bride.”

  She merely gave him a sidelong glance as she rose from the table. “You may not need my help in finding a partner, but you do need my help, Halwyn. I’ll talk to your father about lightening your load during the season, so you can have all the time you need.”

  “Mother, please. Father has plenty to keep up with without you meddling in the bank’s business.”

  “You may call it meddling, but I call it good parenting. If you need time to find yourself a wife, I’m sure your father won’t mind absorbing some of your duties for a few months.”

  Despite his precarious predicament, Halwyn blew out a long breath as he grinned at his mother. “Now I understand what Ginger, Heather, and Jasmine went through. You are tenacious once your mind is made up. Those poor women you foisted on me last night were every bit as embarrassed as I was. But, I promise you, I don’t need your help.”

  “We’ll see,” Charlotte replied as she turned and strode from the room. Halwyn sighed, as he realized this season was not going to be an easy one for him. His mother had big plans, and last night was merely the tip of the iceberg. He had to do something fast, or his mother’s machinations from last night would be repeated incessantly for the next few months.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  In the couple of days since the Cotillion, Grace had been to the theater with her mother and stepfather, and had been riding in the park with her lady’s maid. In both instances, she searched eagerly for Halwyn, hoping to talk to him again. Her plan was coming together, at least in her mind, and Halwyn was going to play a vital part. But she needed to talk to him, and explain what she was proposing, before anything could happen. Sadly, he was absent each time, although his parents were in attendance at the theater. Mrs. Fitzpatrick had always been a favorite of Grace’s, and she was eager to renew their friendship. She approached Charlotte Fitzpatrick at the dessert table after the performance.

  “Mrs. Fitzpatrick, how nice to see you again,” Grace said.

  “Yes, my dear, it’s been far too long since you’ve paid us a visit.” She gave Grace a warm hug. “Although Heather and Jasmine are both married now, and off on their own, you’re still welcome for tea anytime. I’d love for us to catch up with each other.”

  “I’ll have to plan on a visit. Now, which of these desserts do you have your eye on?”

  Charlotte’s gaze flickered over the array of confections spread out before them. “I’m not much for chocolate, but the lemon tart seems to be calling to me.”

  Grace smiled. “Well, chocolate and I get along just fine, so I’ll take a slice of the dark layered cake.”

  They sat, and each took a bite. “Perfection,” Charlotte declared. “Now, tell me dear, how has the season been for you so far?”

  Sophie Huffman interrupted their quiet conversation as she took the seat next to her daughter. “Good evening, Charlotte. It’s good to see you again. We’ve been so busy, trying to get our dear Grace married off, we haven’t had time to just pay a social call. We’ll have to schedule you in.”

  “Well, Jasmine and Parr are planning a weekend party when the racetrack opens for the season in May, so I’ll be certain you get an invitation. Perhaps we can catch up ‘socially’ then.” Charlotte’s voice had a bit of frost to it, not that Grace blamed her. Grace’s mother was being rude, and Grace would not be the least bit offended if Charlotte recanted on her invitation. But it would be a perfect opportunity for her plan to morph from an idea into reality if she did spend the weekend with the Fitzpatricks. She’d have to do what she could to help push the invitation along, despite her mother’s attitude.

  “I regret not being able to spend more time with Jasmine, but between her dress shop and her husband, she doesn’t have a great many hours to spare anymore. Perhaps I’ll stop into the store and see her in the next few weeks.”<
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  Charlotte reached out and took Grace’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Jasmine would love to see you. She misses her twin sister, and would enjoy your company, I’m positive. You know she’s pregnant now, with their first child? And she’s become such an expert at taking last year’s gowns and reinventing them, you’d be surprised at what she can do. It only makes sense to repurpose old gowns, given the state of this economy, which is going to get worse, I’m afraid, if war does happen. You should let her work on one of your dresses.”

  Grace could feel the heat rising to her face. She had hoped no one would notice she had not had new clothing in three years. Charlotte gave her an easy explanation, stating it was due to the unstable economy they were living in, but Grace was aware of the real reason. Tears pricked her eyes at Charlotte’s comments, as kind as they were. She blinked quickly a few times to hold them at bay. Her mother would never again see her cry. Or know exactly how much her behavior hurt, since she wouldn’t stand up against Simon for her only daughter. Grace would not give her stepfather the satisfaction he was searching for. She straightened her spine before she turned back to Charlotte Fitzpatrick.

  “Yes, I may do that, Mrs. Fitzpatrick. Lord knows I have more than a few dresses I’m sick of wearing. And, I suppose, others are sick of seeing me in them. An update sounds most appealing. And I’d love to see Jasmine again.”

  George Fitzpatrick moved to the group of women, in order to reclaim his wife. He bowed over Grace’s hand and held it for a long moment as he straightened back up. His eyes twinkled as he gazed at her.

  “Halwyn told me his new eyeglasses were responsible for him finding you the other night at the dance. It’s a shame he’s been walking around nearly blind the past few years, and no one realized it. That’s the only possible explanation for him not noticing you before now.”

  Grace’s cheeks once again grew warm, but this time it wasn’t in embarrassment. She had always been fond of Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and she recognized they were both trying to be helpful. Had she been a topic of conversation between Halwyn and them? However it happened, she was grateful someone recognized her dilemma. Maybe her plan would work after all.

  “Thank you, Mr. Fitzpatrick. I had a good time at the ball, getting reacquainted with Halwyn after all these years.”

  Her mother began to tug on Grace’s arm. “Simon’s ready to leave, so let’s not dawdle. Charlotte and George, it’s been nice talking to you.” She pulled Grace away from the couple. Grace took one backward glance and mouthed a silent apology. Charlotte Fitzpatrick had her hand on her heart as Grace was forcibly led from the room.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Halwyn’s eyes narrowed as he studied his assistant, Feldon, at the bank.

  “You are saying Grace Wagner is here to see me? And she’s alone? In the bank? Make yourself clear, man.”

  Feldon was visibly shaking, and took a huge gulp of breath. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I tried to get her to leave before she caused a scene, but she refused, claiming she wouldn’t go anywhere without seeing you first. She kept glancing over her shoulder, as if someone was after her. I put her in the private room downstairs, so no one would see her while I came up to tell you. I hope that was the right thing to do.”

  Halwyn rose from the seat behind his massive oak desk. “Yes, Feldon, you made the correct decision. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable. It’s just so odd, what you are saying. I’ll go see her now.” He rose from his desk and began to walk toward the door. “Did she say what the nature of her business was?”

  Feldon’s shoulders relaxed a bit, and he stopped shaking. “Yes, sir. She said to tell you she was here to talk to you about her father’s trust.”

  Halwyn’s heart kicked into a different gear. Grace had come to see him. Maybe now he could get to the bottom of what was going on with her. And to catch a whiff of her lilac scent again. He’d nearly forgotten about her father’s holdings at the bank, since his father handled all the dealings with the dreaded Simon Huffman, who currently held the reins to the trust.

  “Why don’t you escort Miss Wagner up here to my office instead, so we won’t be seen or interrupted?”

  Feldon blinked at him. Halwyn was aware that being alone with Grace, be it here or in the little room downstairs off the main lobby, was inappropriate behavior. But she had been in his thoughts for days now, and he wanted to get to the bottom of her situation, whatever it might be. And to do so, he had to make her feel comfortable and safe, and to get her away from prying eyes. He nodded at Feldon.

  “Now, man.”

  “Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick.” Feldon scurried down the hall. A few minutes later, he was back, with Grace Wagner at his heels. She walked briskly, the gray pinstriped satin skirt of her afternoon dress swishing at the movement.

  She was pale. Her skin had a translucent quality to it. Maybe it was merely the stark difference between her pale coloring and her dark hair that made her appear fragile. Halwyn glanced at her, hoping she wasn’t about to faint here in his office. Her blue eyes were clear, however. He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

  “Grace, how nice to see you again.”

  “I apologize for barging into your place of business, Halwyn, but I couldn’t think of any other way to speak to you alone.”

  “No apologies necessary. You’re a family friend, and you have holdings at the bank, so you’re welcome here anytime. Unlike some other banks, we welcome female customers. Please take a seat.”

  He motioned to the chair in front of his desk, then walked behind the desk and sat again. Feldon stood in the doorway, uncertain what his next move should be.

  “Thank you, Feldon. I’ll take it from here. Please close the door. We’ll need a few minutes.”

  Feldon swallowed hard and gave them a sidelong glance before he closed the door.

  “Do you mind if I smoke, Grace?” Halwyn held a thin cigar between his fingers and motioned in her direction.

  “No, not at all,” she replied quietly. “I rather enjoy the scent of tobacco.”

  He made a grand show of lighting the cigar, and puffing to get it going properly. All the while, he was observing her as she sat rigidly before him, with a handkerchief in her hands. She was plucking at the cloth. The poor square of fabric would be in tatters before she left the room, if she continued in such a manner. Grace’s head was bowed, and she wasn’t talking. Halwyn had no idea why she was here, but he wanted to calm her.

  “Grace,” he whispered, leaning over the desk.

  She glanced up at him, startled, even though he had spoken softly.

  “What is wrong? And how can I help?”

  She blinked, but not so quickly that Halwyn hadn’t noticed the tears in her eyes. She was refusing to let them spill over, although he guessed the handkerchief was there for the purpose of catching them, if necessary. Good girl. Whatever your problem is, you’re not giving in. He nodded silently in her direction, indicating she had his full attention. She lowered her eyes again.

  “I, I don’t know where to begin, but you’re my only hope Halwyn.” He caught the choking sound of her voice as she uttered these words.

  “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is? Take your time, and start at the beginning.”

  Halwyn settled back into his chair. He had a feeling they were going to need far longer than a few minutes.

  • • •

  Grace took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “When my father died three years ago, he left a trust for me. I’m sure you’re aware of it, since it is here at the bank.”

  “I only know about it in the vaguest terms, since my father is the one who deals with Simon. Is something wrong with the trust?”

  “It’s not the bank’s fault, Halwyn. That’s not why I’m here. But yes, there is something terribly wrong with the trust.” Her voice caught in her throat and she glanced up at him. He was leaning over his desk, peering at her.

  She hesitated in her speech, and once again her gaze dropped into her lap. Halwyn g
round out the cheroot and rose, leaving behind the decorum of having a desk between them. He took a seat beside her and took one of her hands in his, preventing her from tearing her handkerchief apart.

  “What is it, Grace?”

  She took a deep breath, relaxing a bit for the first time since she arrived in the room. His touch calmed her. She tightened her hold on his hand as she stole a glance at his profile.

  “The trust stipulates, in very specific language, when I turn twenty-one years of age, the entire amount will be transferred to me and my husband.”

  Halwyn entwined his fingers between hers. “Not quite, Grace. The standard wording of any trust stipulates that the funds will revert to you alone upon your twenty-first birthday. If you are married by that time, of course, it is understood the funds will become part of your husband’s holdings.”

  Grace’s eyes once more filled with tears, which she blinked away. “The wording of my trust has been slightly altered, Halwyn. And the slight alteration is making all the difference. It clearly states it will revert to me and my husband. If there is no husband, it will become my mother’s money, and hence, Simon’s.”

  “Good heavens, no. If you come of age and are not married, the entirety of the trust will revert to you. You’ll be a wealthy woman.”

  “Well, Simon is interpreting the clause differently. He’s taken the wording to an attorney and it has been verified by this gentleman that Simon’s interpretation is sound. Now, all he need do is prevent me from marrying before July, when I reach my twenty-first birthday. Then the trust will revert to him.” She expelled a long breath, and sat back, placing her fate in Halwyn’s hands.