Married By Twelfth Night (Regency Christmas Brides)

22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Grace lay in her bed during that stage between wakefulness and sleeping. It was in this clear state, where the mind was not bogged down with tasks and conversation, where Grace remembered something from Mr. Green’s Christmas ball. It was a riddle Richard had wanted her to solve in which she found him a single woman who was well-read, observant, mildly pretty, and exceptionally musical.

She had answered Ruth.

And not a day later, he had announced his intention to marry her.

Her eyes opened with sudden clarity. Did Richard have to marry Ruth, or someone like her, to save Belside? She pulled herself up on her elbows. Could it be a coincidence? Why had she not seen it before? The events of the previous night flooded into her mind. His Aunt Edith had been very particular about Grace. Could she have been particular about who she wanted Richard to marry too?

“Good heavens!” she said into the stillness of the room. What a terrible expectation for a relative to require, even if it was in exchange for money. She flipped the blanket off her legs and yanked the bellpull for her maid.

While she dressed, she fretted over the conclusion she had come to. She needed to clarify the whole situation with Richard. But deep down, a pit formed in her stomach. She had wanted Richard to turn his feelings to her, but what if that was not even an option ?

And to think she had almost kissed him again last night and ruined everything for him. By the time breakfast was over, she was nearly convinced of his aunt’s cruelty. She chewed on her fingernail, which she never did, when she was supposed to be sorting through all her clothes to donate for St. Stephen’s Day. She managed a small pile, but she couldn’t concentrate to manage anything greater.

Mama stuck her head into her bedchamber. “I finally have a moment to myself, and I want you to tell me all about last night.”

This was not the time for Mama’s excessive questions or hints of weddings. But she had to say something or Mama would not leave her alone. Where to start? “The food was excellent.”

Mama came and sat down on the edge of her bed. “And?” Her wide expectant eyes were almost laughable.

“And we sang carols.”

Mama’s face lit up. “How lovely. . . Wait, did you sing too?”

“Of course. Carols are meant to be sung as a group.”

Mama’s smile drooped. “But you were not overly loud, were you?”

What a question. “We were singing praises, which are meant to be done with gusto.”

“I see.” Mama rubbed a spot on the center of her forehead.

Grace knew her voice was not the kind to be admired, but last night singing with Bridget and Richard had been wonderful. They did not care about the quality of her tone. They were her friends. She nearly smiled at that. She honestly counted Richard as her friend and a dear friend at that. They had come so far.

A maid interrupted them, announcing Mr. Craig had come to visit.

“Mr. Craig?” she repeated. No, no, no. Richard was supposed to visit, not Mr. Craig .

“Let’s not keep him waiting,” Mama said, waving her hand to get Grace to hurry. “Mr. Graham hasn’t proposed yet, so you must keep your options open.”

“Mama!” she chided.

Mama shrugged. “Not all courtships are about romance, you know. You have to think practically too.”

Grace had always been practical, but she no longer wanted to be. She wanted the feeling that only came when Richard was near. But Mama was right. After the revelation Grace had come to this morning, Richard might be as unattainable as ever. She should be very nice to Mr. Craig. Although her heart would not be in it, she would try. She didn’t want to be the woman Bridget had described her to be—the one who only chased away men.

Mr. Craig was overly charming during his visit. His eagerness and confidence led her to believe that he had a list of conquests at home. He complimented her in every other sentence, which made everything he said feel ungenuine. There was nothing unlikeable about him, but nothing likable either.

Mr. Craig discreetly shifted closer and closer until there was no longer a separate cushion between them on the sofa. Mama pulled out her knitting and turned her body away from them to allow a bit of privacy. Mr. Craig took it as an opportunity to press his leg against the outside of hers. Instead of a thrill, she felt a wave of unease.

He spoke to her in a lowered voice. “I am leaving after Twelfth Night, Miss Steele, but I would like to come again before the end of January. Would you welcome such a visit?”

This was her chance. She could secure his affection now and not have to leave Wetherfield. One thought persisted above the rest: He’s not Richard .

“Forgive me,” she said at last. “There is someone else my heart belongs to.” Her face burned as she admitted the difficult words. But no matter how hard she had tried during his visit, she would never see herself with Mr. Craig. And it would not be fair to encourage him to ride such a far distance from his home if she could not return his affections.

His face went from surprised to disappointed, but he quickly masked it with a false smile. “I see. Is there an understanding between you and this man?”

“No.”

He studied her for a moment. “But your heart is committed to him?”

She swallowed and gave a slow nod.

Their butler stepped in the room and announced the arrival of Mr. Graham.

Her breath caught in anticipation. He had come. Finally!

Richard stepped into the room like a man straight from a fashion magazine, his smile alone made her want to take up painting to remember it forever. His eyes scanned the room, stopping on her.

And then his smile reached his eyes, stopping her heart in the process.

But when it reached Mr. Craig, it dropped a good two notches. “I hope I am not interrupting,” he said.

Mr. Craig looked between the two of them and sighed. “Not at all. It seems my time here has come to an end.”

“Good,” Richard said. “I mean, it was good to see you again.”

Mr. Craig stood. “I certainly hope so. For me, it has been a pleasure.” He dipped his head to Mrs. Steele and Richard before turning back to her, dropping his voice yet again. “If it had been anyone less worthy, I might not have given up so easily.”

She almost laughed in surprise. Mr. Craig had known without her saying anything more. Had her feelings been so obvious? “I thank you for being such a good sport, Mr. Craig.”

“I am nothing but that. Goodbye, Miss Steele, and good luck to you.”

He bid the others farewell and departed from the room. He might be her last hope in Wetherfield, but she could not wish him back.

Richard took his place on the sofa and immediately she was at ease. She couldn’t help whispering, “Late again, I see.”

He tipped his head toward her and whispered back. “I like to keep you in suspense.”

“Whatever for?”

“The more you miss me, the more I get you thinking about me.”

She snorted, which made Mama turn and give her a disapproving look. She ignored Mama, keeping her tone, and whispered, “Is this part of your charm?”

“Charm? No.” His teasing smile turned suddenly somber. His answer was said slowly, as if each word meant something to him. “But I would be remiss if I did not admit to enjoying seeing your eyes light up and your smile widen when I enter the room. So, if in missing me your thoughts turn to hoping, and your hopes turn to longing, then perhaps I have finally done something right in my life.”

She stared at him, completely unable to speak. She had not expected him to say something so . . . so . . . romantic. But how could he torment her so when she knew that he must marry Ruth?

She glanced at Mama, whose needle wasn’t moving at all. Her head was tipped to the side, as if craning her ear in their direction. She had to speak with Richard alone.

“Mama!”

Mama snapped straight in her seat. “Y-yes? ”

“Would you be so good to invite Ruth to join us? I do believe she will hide if any maid comes to search for her, but she will not resist your command. And Mr. Graham dearly wants to speak to her.”

Richard’s brow furrowed, but she ignored him and stared pointedly at Mama.

Mama seemed confused by the directions, but that was exactly what Grace was hoping for. She set down her sewing and stood. “I shall only be a moment.”

“Thank you, Mama.”

As soon as she quitted the room, Grace turned to Richard. “We only have a few minutes, so we must speak quickly.”

“Ah, that was clever of you. I thought you were going to hasten my proposal.”

She latched on to the hesitancy in his voice, trying to read through his words. “Not just yet. There is something I must understand first. Do you want to marry Ruth?”

He opened and closed his mouth twice before he answered. “I didn’t tell you everything about my Aunt Edith’s generous offer. She listed specific qualifications for my bride.”

Grace set her jaw. “Such as?”

“Lives in Wetherfield, musical, reserved, a great reader of philosophy, only passably pretty.” His words slowed as he said that last part, his eyes passing over each of her features.

Did he think her passably pretty? She threw the thought from her head, knowing it did not matter. Had she not heard what he had said? She had to confirm the rest. “That night at the ball. Your riddle was about this, wasn’t it? And I answered Ruth.”

Pain lanced across his face and he dipped a nod. “Yes, it was why Ruth became the object of my attention. ”

Grace crushed the sides of her gown beneath her fingertips, not knowing if she should be angry, devastated, or both. “And without Ruth, you lose Belside?” Beautiful Belside. Her second home.

He nodded again, this time with great reluctance. “There is no excuse for any of this. But if it helps, I have been relentless in my efforts to discover a better solution. My aunt is eccentric and determined. Not to mention, the impossibility of arguing with a dying woman, but her offer is greater than any I could discover. There is one venture my solicitor stumbled upon, but I could lose everything. He has advised us to retrench for the next decade and let the house. My mother . . .”

“Your mother would not survive it,” she finished for him. “Not mentally, at least.”

He sighed. “Perhaps not. You know as well as I that she has not recovered from losing Father. I hope her trip to Bath is helping, but I do not expect it to heal her completely so soon. If she leaves Belside, it needs to be her choice, and not out of necessity.” He shook his head. “You must know that I was determined to love Ruth—to do my best by her. Gracie, I did not expect for you and I . . .” His voice trailed off.

He picked up her hands and rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her palms, leaving a trail of heat that she felt all the way to her chest.

“I understand,” she said quickly, fighting the pricking of emotion in her throat. “You’re making the right decision.”

“Am I?” He clung tighter to her hands.

She forced herself to nod. “You’re putting your family and your future as your priority.”

The skin around his eyes pulled tight. “Indeed, my sister’s and my mother’s happiness were the only part that kept me from walking away altogether. I thought my aunt’s will was a blessing I had prayed into existence, but now I feel quite ungrateful. I want much more than a mere house for my future. I want a woman who challenges me to be better and makes the hard bearable with one smile. Gracie, I want—”

She cut him off before he could say anything more, knowing it would be too much for her to resist. “You’re running out of time, Richard.” She shook her head. “There are ten days left. That is not nearly enough time to plan a wedding as it is. You have to propose to Ruth straightaway.”

He stared at her like she had suddenly become a stranger to him. He dropped her hands like two hot coals and sat back.

If he couldn’t figure out how to ask Ruth, then she would help him. “Bring your sister and aunt to dinner tonight. Let her meet Ruth and see you two together. We can still make this work.”

“Gracie—”

The way he said her name caused an ache inside her, but she quickly cut him off. “No, Richard. You cannot change this. Remember our near scandal? We could have prematurely killed her with the shock we gave her. Your aunt despises me now, and I cannot blame her. But she will adore Ruth. Think of your family and your home. Our hearts will sort themselves with time.” The lie burned on her tongue. She knew her own heart would never be the same. And by the pain behind his eyes, she knew she had wounded him. Of all the mean, flippant things she had said over the years, nothing had affected him as this.

Ruth and Mama walked into the drawing room. As she pulled away from him, she whispered, “Dinner. Please say you’ll come.”