Bolton rubbed her shoulders, digging her fingers expertly into the knots in Grace’s shoulders “By the looks of it, my lady, you’re going to have your hands full with Lady Charlotte.”
Grace closed her eyes briefly. “I forbid you to even think such horrible thoughts.” She grinned wearily. “I must have a word with my aunt. If she was expecting a shy, missish young lady, she’ll be dreadfully disappointed.”
She began to rise, but Bolton made Grace sit while she worked on her shoulders. “What you need to do, my lady, is come out of the mopes. You’ve been walking around blue-deviled for weeks now. While you’re getting Lady Charlotte’s gowns, you should buy some for yourself. There’s nothing like a new gown and a pretty bonnet to perk you right up.”
Some of Grace’s tension eased under Bolton’s hands. “Yes, you have a good point. I shall speak to Madame Lisette.”
After a few more minutes, Bolton went into the dressing room.
Grace moved to the pretty burl-inlaid desk and searched for paper, a pen, ink, and wax. Once she’d gathered them together, she wrote Phoebe a note. She sealed it, then rang for a footman. “Please take this round to Dunwood House and wait for an answer.”
“Yes, my lady.”
He returned about twenty minutes later. “My lady, Lady Evesham would be honored to receive you after tea, or to have you join her for tea. Whichever it is you desire.”
“Please tell her as we have arrived just to-day, I must take tea with my aunt, but I shall do myself the honor of waiting on her immediately afterward.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Grace grabbed her cloak, descended the stairs, and slipped out of one of the French windows to take a turn in the garden at the back of the town house. A flagstone path meandered around the fountain, a much smaller version of one at Versailles, strolling over to the roses on the other side of the fountain. The garden was surrounded on three sides by a tall stone wall. Rose canes scrambled up trellises and the two arbors with seats nestled in them. Grace peered closely at the bits of green springing forth from the brownish-gray stalks. How lovely this would all be come late spring. Perhaps she should plant more roses at Stanwood House. She looked at the watch pinned to her gown. It was almost four o’clock. Retracing her path, Grace arrived as tea was being brought in.
By the end of tea, caught between her aunt’s oppressive solicitude for her situation and her sister’s spirited defense, Grace had the beginnings of a headache and wanted nothing more than to be alone.
“Grace, my dear child, I’m very proud of you. But no one, I’m sure, would blame you if you sent the older children off to school. Many parents do, you know. Then you would only have the youngest, what is her name? Oh, it doesn’t matter . . .”
“Her name is Mary,” Charlotte said with aching sweetness.
Their aunt blinked. “Yes, my dear, I am sure it is. As I was saying, if you would send them off and allow your steward to handle the estate . . .”
“But Aunt Almeria”—Charlotte intervened once more— “you must know that our papa always said one must care for one’s own land. It wouldn’t be right of Grace to ignore his advice.”
“My dear Charlotte.” Her aunt blinked several times. “How you do take one up. I was merely suggesting that if Grace rid herself of so many burdens, she might have time to find a husband.”
This time when Charlotte opened her mouth to respond, Grace quelled her with a stern glance and turned to her aunt with a smile. “You mistake the matter. I am not at all burdened. After fighting for so long to gain guardianship, I cannot imagine you think I would give it up. I would no sooner send my brothers and sisters to boarding schools than I would have to various family members. Until such a time each one is ready to leave the nest, we shall all remain together.” Grace went to her aunt and hugged her, softening her tone. “Please understand, that is really all I desire. Now if you’ll excuse us, Lady Evesham would like me to bring Charlotte round to meet her.”
Lady Herndon returned her embrace. “Yes, of course. Very good of her to offer to take you to Madame Lisette.”
Grace bussed her aunt’s cheek and signaled to Charlotte to do the same. “We shall see you before dinner.”
When they reached the door to Grace’s chambers, she whisked her sister inside and passed a hand over her eyes. “Charlotte, my love, I appreciate you trying to defend me. Still please, for the sake of my nerves, do not. If I have to go through that again, I shall have strong hysterics.”
“But you don’t have hysterics,” Charlotte pointed out.
“Charlotte,” Grace said warningly.
Her sister hung her head. “Yes, Grace. I won’t do it again. It’s just that . . .”
“Thank you. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. Now change into a walking gown and pelisse and meet me back here. I’m almost afraid to step outside. I have the greatest fear we’ll both look like country dowdies.”
Not more than a quarter of an hour later, Grace and Charlotte were shown into a room with a view of the gardens in the back of the Dunwood House. Phoebe, Countess of Evesham, rose to greet them. “Grace, how glad I am to see you again. It has been an age.” Phoebe clasped Grace closely and kissed her before greeting her sister. “This must be Charlotte. How beautiful you are. You look very like your sister did when she made her come out. Come and sit, then you may tell me how you’ve been.”
Grace studied her friend for a moment. Phoebe had changed little over the years. She was still a small lady with bright red-gold hair and sky-blue eyes. “Phoebe, you look wonderful. I see married life suits you.”
Phoebe grinned. “Thank you, I am very happy.”
“The baby is due in the summer?”
Her friend touched her stomach. “Yes, in July. We’ll not entertain in a grand way this Season, and I’ve promised Marcus to restrict my gadding about. But we will still attend the political parties, and I shall hold a few drawing rooms. You, though, will be extremely busy.”
