by Ella Edon
Grace blinked, trying to remember where she was and what was happening – oh, why did you stop? Where did you go? And then she, too, sat up and looked towards the river.
To Grace's complete shock and horror, Uncle Leonard and Aunt Betsey stood on the grass just a short distance away. They were silent, and just stared at Grace as though Adam were not even there.
A quick glance over her shoulder, showed that he was not there. He seemed to have stepped behind one of the largest trees and hidden himself in its shadow. Grace couldn’t decide if she was grateful to him for disappearing and not embarrassing her further, or if she was angry and distraught at him abandoning her as though she were not worth being seen with.
"We've been searching for you, Grace," Aunt Betsey finally said, in a voice colder than the coldest winter wind. "It is time for your fitting. You are to come directly to the shop. Now."
With that they turned and walked away, as though they could not bear the sight of her another moment. Grace was left to struggle to her feet, when all she wanted to do was run and hide and never be seen by anyone ever again.
"Come, Grace," Adam said, in a quiet voice. From the corner of her eye, she could see him moving towards her from the cover of the trees. "Get in the boat and I'll take you straight back. You can take your market basket and – "
But Grace turned away from him and began running through the grove of trees, heading back to the road as fast as she could go. Up until now, she had always thought that "dying of humiliation" was merely an expression, but she had just learned that such a thing was sadly, and painfully, all too true.
Chapter Eighteen
Decisions, Consequences, And Further Plans
Grace was already inside the shop, sitting down on a little footstool in a far corner all the way in the back by the time her aunt and uncle arrived. They seemed to know exactly where she was and walked straight to her.
She peeked up at them briefly and then quickly looked away again, keeping her hands over her face. "I'm – I'm – "
"Be silent, Grace." Aunt Betsey's voice was colder than ever. "You were with that coachman again, weren't you? And this time, you were out there, lying in the grass like a common – "
"We saw him just as he disappeared. Hiding like the low sort that he is as soon as he knew we were there." Uncle Leonard sounded gruff and angry.
But Grace found her own anger rising as well, on hearing the insults to both herself and to Adam. Slowly, she stood up. "I think the trouble is not so much that I was caught in – caught having a picnic with a man on a pleasant afternoon. It's because I was having a picnic with the wrong man, isn't it?"
"It certainly is!" cried Aunt Betsey. "It most certainly is. This will not do at all! I thought you understood what this was all about!"
"To be blunt, Grace," growled Uncle Leonard, "we did not give you all of these clothes and gifts to be wasted on a man like that. You are intended for – "
"Oh, yes, I know. I am intended to meet Earl Worthington and marry him, so that my entire family can have a comfortable life and never worry about income again." She stood up a little taller, for the pressure of all this was quickly overtaking her embarrassment at being caught at a picnic, kissing Adam Wheeler.
She turned to face her aunt and uncle. "I've never even seen the earl, much less been introduced to him. Which means that he has never seen me, either. What hope, really, do I have of enticing a titled man and complete stranger to marry me? Especially when every other unmarried girl in the county is desperate to catch him for herself?"
"You will meet him at the next ball, of course!" said Aunt Betsey. "You will be – "
"The earl did not bother to attend the first ball, even though his own mother was the one who organized it. The other girls tell me again and again that he has a dislike for such occasions and they will be surprised if he comes at all!"
"There has only been one assembly ball, to date," said Uncle Leonard. "We have only been setting you out there for a few weeks. Are you giving up so soon?"
"Indeed, are you giving up? We’re not!" cried Aunt Betsey. "Do you intend to wear all your fine clothes for your coachman instead and marry him for the pittance he has, instead of trying to help your entire family – including your two young brothers? Because it looks like that’s exactly what you’re doing!"
Grace almost retorted, Of course you’re not giving up! You’re not being forced to marry a strange man! But she managed to keep her silence instead.
"It’s most certainly far too soon to give up on the earl!" insisted Aunt Betsey. "Your most valuable assets – your youth and the beauty that comes with it – must be used now, while you still have them!"
"Then perhaps I should take your advice, and put them to use!" cried Grace. "Perhaps instead of going to the next ball, I should pack up my pretty new gowns and slippers and go down to the London docks! I’m sure I could earn plenty of coins down there, and send them back to all of you so that you can enjoy a comfortable life right here in Birdwell and thank me every day for what I’ve given you!"
Furious and in despair at her predicament, and shocked by her own audacity at standing up to her aunt and uncle, Grace turned away from them and sat down on the footstool again. She covered her face with her hands and wept, not caring any longer about what anyone in her family might say to her.
At last her aunt sighed deeply. "By all the birds in the forest, Grace, calm down. Do you think you're the first young woman to lose her head over some man? Stop sniffling and get back to the business at hand. You have far more important things to do than moon over a coachman and wonder if anyone saw you."
"Your aunt is right, as she always is," said Uncle Leonard. "And in any event, I don't think anyone else saw you. When you didn’t return from the marketplace, we asked after you there, and it happened that a couple of the townsfolk saw you leave in a boat. Of course, we went right away to look for you."
"It was just a boat ride," whispered Grace.
"Not if it leads to marrying a man who could ruin you and ruin the lives of your entire family. Not at all. You must understand this, Grace!""Please try to understand this, Aunt Betsey. I did go to the first assembly ball. I saw the other young women there," she said tensely. "I know how beautiful they are. I've seen the gowns and the jewels and the silks and the – "
"My dear, we've told you many times – we have outfitted you to the best of our ability," said Uncle Leonard quite sternly.
"It’s not just the jewels and silks, uncle. It is the – it is the air these young women have about them, an air that I do not have. They were born to this. All of them were, even the tradesmen's daughters, wearing only muslin and brass. They grew up, seeing events such as these in Birdwell and already know the skills needed to participate . . . while I was born to nothing, but scrubbing hallway floors and hauling ashes out of fireplaces."
"Grace, Grace," said Aunt Betsey. "There is no need to trouble yourself over that. You did well at your very first assembly ball. If you lack confidence, you can mask it behind shyness. Many men love the challenge of drawing out a shy girl. It may actually work to your advantage."
"Indeed," said Uncle Leonard. "Be as shy as you wish, as long as you remember that you have a family to think of and not just yourself. "
"Exactly so," added Aunt Betsey. "And suppose, as you fear, you never do meet the earl. Or you do meet him and he shows no interest. Even a successful farmer, who will have at least a comfortable income, would be better than a – a mere coachman!"
Slowly, Grace stood up again. It was difficult to balance her frustration and anger at being used in this way with her feelings of gratitude, for she did know that underneath, they were trying to help her – to help all of them.
"I am myself the daughter of a coachman," she said, keeping her voice steady. "It is good honest work and takes a strong hand and no small amount of knowledge."
"Yes, you are the daughter of a coachman," said Uncle Leonard. "And you see how you have lived – first as a
maid-of-all-work and now solely on the charity of relatives. Your mother was little better off even while your father was – while your father was himself and earning wages."
"Do you not want better for yourself and your mother and your young brothers?" pleaded Aunt Betsey.
"Yes, yes, of course I do! And surely, even a coachman could help to provide for me and all of my family. He could give some ease to the two of you, for I know very well that you are both stretched far too thin with trying to care for all of us."
"A coachman's wages are not enough," Aunt Betsey said flatly. "You will have to do better. Your entire family is counting on you."
Grace walked a few steps along the walls and shelves of the shop. "Should I cut my gowns lower? Raise the hems up high, like the doxies in the city? Is that really what you’re trying to tell me to do?"
Aunt Betsey sighed. "You’re doing nothing to be ashamed of. Every woman wants to find the best possible match. You’re doing no less. You are simply trying to find the man of the highest station you can find who is willing to make you his wife."
"Otherwise, you risk being far worse off than you are now," warned Uncle Leonard. "We cannot support all of you forever. Would you wish to see your mother and your brothers to go into a workhouse because there is simply no other place for them?"
Grace closed her eyes. She knew that her aunt and uncle were not bad people. They did want better for Grace and her brothers and her parents. It was just unfortunate that a coachman's wages were not going to be enough to take care of them all.
She would never stop hoping that maybe, somehow, Adam Wheeler would find a way.
"You’re right, of course," she said, in a low voice. "I’m sorry about today. I think I was just – embarrassed. I’ll be far more careful in the future."
Aunt Betsey patted her arm. "I have no doubt that you will, now that you have seen what can happen if you are not. Go home now. See to your family. They will be waiting for you."
She nodded to both of them. Free to go at last, Grace walked to the front of the shop and opened the door, intending to hurry across the street and get to the east road that led to Applewood Cottage.
Everyone at home would be very disappointed when she returned empty-handed from her marketing trip. That would be one more thing she would have to make up for, if ever she could.
As soon as she stepped out to the wooden walkway, she saw – her basket. It was sitting on the walkway up against the building and was still full from her marketing trip earlier in the day.
Grace did not know whether to feel more humiliated by this, or less. She quickly grabbed the basket and hurried away.
* * *
Two days after meeting Grace for a little boat ride as Adam Wheeler, Earl Worthington took his mother, Countess Worthington, out for a drive in the governess car behind her new pony, Woodlark.
"Just a nice drive around our own grounds will be fine, Thomas. I want to see how he goes before I take him out on the road. And it is so pretty here today that we need go no further, in any case."
Thomas smiled. "You’re right, Mother. There is no place prettier than Worthington in early summer."
He handed her the reins and the whip, and she sat up a little taller and tapped the pony's rump to send him into a trot. "He's a bit quicker than Oriole, isn't he?"
"So he is. But of course, Oriole is fifteen years of age now and this fellow is only five. Now that you have this pony, it may be time to let the mare retire."
"I thought that might be your plan, Thomas. She’s been such an agreeable driving pony – always kind, always sound – that I should like very much to see a foal of hers. Do you think it is too late in the year to arrange it?"
"Not at all. One of the farmers on the other side of Birdwell has a very good Highland stallion, dark chestnut in color. I will take her there in the next day or so. We can let her stay for a few weeks, and then bring her back home."
"It would be lovely if she could give us a foal or two while she enjoys her retirement. I would look forward to that."
"Of course."
"And something else I look forward to is the next assembly ball," she said carefully, her eyes still forward.
"Of course." Thomas smiled again, knowing that this was really why she had asked him to go with her to try the new pony. "I hear that the first one went quite well. And I trust that by now, you’ve had a full report."
"I certainly have. Two days ago, I invited Mrs. Clarke to come and talk to me about it, and I think she gave me every single detail."
"I have no doubt about that."
The countess drew back on the reins and eased Woodlark back down to a brisk walk. "The reports were very thorough, but I was quite disappointed to hear that Mrs. Clarke did not have much good to say about the young unmarried women who were in attendance."
Imagine that, thought Thomas to himself. Not for one moment would Beatrice let anyone outshine her – especially any other woman. It made him wonder why his mother would ask her to list women who might be suitable for him, for she must know that Beatrice was the last person who might be complimentary of any other female.
"She had nothing encouraging to tell me about any of them, and she was especially dismissive of one young lady in particular. A girl who was newly arrived in Birdwell – so recently that Mrs. Clarke had not seen her before – and wearing a bright yellow gown."
Of course, the first one Beatrice would look down on was a shy girl like Grace Miller.
"It seems that this particular girl was especially ungainly and awkward. Mrs. Clarke seemed convinced that she could only have been a servant – or the daughter of servants – or perhaps a girl who had never left the family farm in her life and so had no idea of how to behave in polite company."
"I see."
"This one was so painfully shy that she hardly danced at all and only spoke to a few people. And so plain! Mrs. Clarke stated that this girl wore no jewelry at all save for a few old, worn, brass-tipped pins in her dull brown hair, and also stated that none of the men there looked twice at her. She said it was best that the earl was spared the sight of her!"
"Well, now," said Thomas, trying to keep from grinning. "I suppose I should count myself fortunate that I was not subjected to such a dreadful guest."
"I’m sure you’re right. But, tell me, Thomas . . . will you go to the second ball? I’m glad to have the townsfolk enjoy them, but surely you know that I have planned them primarily for you."
"I know you did, Mother. And I have an idea of what to do for the second ball."
The truth was that he did want to attend the next ball and not sit outside with the horses again. This time, he wanted to go inside and take part. He wanted to see Grace. He wanted to dance with her. And he wanted to do all this as Adam Wheeler, not as Earl Worthington, even though virtually everyone in Birdwell would recognize him the instant he walked into the room.
"An idea, Thomas?"
"Yes. I think it would be great fun to make the next assembly ball a masked affair."
Chapter Nineteen
The Dowager Countess Makes Plans, And Miss Miller Is Revealed
His mother guided Woodlark into a turn, and then they headed towards a small wooden bridge over a ravine. The pony did well, clomping across the bridge after only a little hesitation, and the dowager countess seemed pleased.
"A masked ball," she said. "Do you think you would enjoy such a thing? You generally do not like events like balls and formal dinners, finding them very tedious. Would masks and fancy dress make it any easier?"
"Probably not," he said, with a laugh. "But I do think that the rest of the guests might enjoy it very much. It would be something a bit different from the first one and might encourage more of them to attend, since it will be a bit less formal and faces can be hidden if they wish."
"Oh, yes, indeed, wearing masks and putting on fancy dress to look like a book character, or an historical figure, or even a lion, or a unicorn, is quite an old tradition. And it can be a d
elightful one."
"Yes, it can. And I would like to add one other thing: I have heard that it was rather crowded at the Robbins Inn. If we both allow masks and hold the next ball out of doors – at, perhaps, the marketplace grounds – that would allow room for even more guests."
"Who could wear masks and hide in the shadows," murmured the countess, glancing up at him with mock reproach. "I will agree to this Thomas, on one condition: that Earl Worthington shows himself at the third and final assembly ball. It would be just too strange for the earl to refuse to attend all three."
"Done," he answered. "I promise you— the earl will attend the third subscription ball."
The countess sent Woodlark into a trot again, and as they headed for home, Thomas felt pleased about the arrangements. A masked ball would allow him to actually take part in the dancing and introductions without revealing who he really was.