Page 11 of Dare it all for Love

The girls dipped curtseys and walked away, only pausing to lay the flowers on a gravestone before they hurried off. As they went, Henry noticed a dark figure, standing beneath the shade of an ancient yew tree, leaning on a spade. The man called a greeting to the girls, winking at them. They both put their noses in the air and ignored his remark. The fellow laughed, his gaze drifting next to Florence, who was standing apart from the others, some distance away. She was talking intently with another young lady. There was something about both girl’s posture that made him frown. They seemed upset.

Henry glanced back to the man, who must have been the gravedigger for the church, and did not like the lascivious look in the fellow’s eyes as he admired Florence and her friend. A prickling sensation rolled down Henry’s back. Following his instincts, he extricated himself from Jasper’s company as the fellow had got himself deep into a conversation with the blasted vicar. By the time he turned back, however, the girls were nowhere in sight.

“Oh, darling. Please won’t you tell me what’s wrong?” Florence begged Grace. The poor girl was pale and miserable, on the verge of tears. She took her arm, dragging Grace farther away from the others around the corner of the church where they could not be seen. “Is it… is it a man?”

Grace burst into tears and Florence gathered her into her arms.

“Oh, love.”

“I’ve been such a fool,” she sobbed into Florence’s shoulder. “Such a stupid, stupid fool. I’ve r-ruined everything. I’ve ruined myself.”

Florence’s heart sank as she heard the words, her worst fears realised. “Then…?”

Grace looked up, her grey eyes filled with tears. She nodded. “I’m with child.”

Florence held her breath, struggling to find the words. Even though she’d been prepared for it, it was still a shock. Grace was so young, only seventeen. What kind of man could have taken advantage of her so badly?

“The father?” she asked, hoping against hope, but Grace only shook her head.

“He wants nothing to do with me. He says he never loved me, that I threw myself at him and he only did it because he felt s-sorry for me.”

“The brute!” she exclaimed, outraged that a man could be so cruel.

“I th-thought he loved me, Florence. He told me he did, and I believed him, but it was all a l-lie.”

“Oh, Gracie. Oh, my dear. I’m so dreadfully sorry, but you’re not alone. You have friends and we will all stand by you. I promise we—”

“No.”

Florence stepped back, holding Grace by the shoulders as she stared at her, puzzled. “What do you mean, no?”

Grace drew in a deep breath and gathered herself. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose, then tucked the handkerchief back up the sleeve of her gown. Suddenly she looked older, the weight of pain and experience colouring her stormy sky eyes. “You cannot see me once this becomes public, Florence. None of you can. If you do, you will be tainted by association. You know this as well as I do. I must take responsibility for my actions, and I won’t have any of you damaged by my shame.”

“But….” Florence began, only to be silenced as Grace pressed a trembling finger to her mouth.

“You’ve no idea how much it means to me, that you would support me in this, but you cannot. We both know you cannot, Florence. Please don’t be naïve and give me promises you simply cannot, must not keep. You cannot help me now. No one can.”

Florence swallowed hard, wanting to deny it, wanting to shout and rage that it wasn’t fair, but the truth of the words hung between them, taunting them with their cruelty. Any chance Florence had for making a good match would be badly damaged if she were seen with Grace.

“What will you do?” Florence asked, her throat growing thick as she tried not to cry.

Grace returned a sad smile. “I shall enjoy the last weeks of summer. I shall dance and have fun and do all the things that young women are supposed to do, and then… and then I shall confess all to my parents. It will break their hearts. Especially….” Her voice trembled, and she took a moment to swallow and steady herself. “Especially darling Papa. He’ll be so upset, but I shall go away. Perhaps to Scotland. I’ve always wanted to see Scotland. Such a romantic place. I’ll have my baby and… live quietly. Perhaps in a year or two, you’ll be able to come and visit me.”

“Oh, Grace,” Florence said, shaking her head as she struggled to keep her composure. The thought of Grace all alone with a baby was too much to bear.

“I’m stronger than I look, Flo,” Grace assured her, and Florence saw the steel in her grey eyes, the strength that belied her slender figure and fine features. “I’ll be fine, so please don’t worry about me. I don’t want to spoil your summer any more than I do my own. Forgive me, but… but I’d like to be alone for a bit. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to walk back by myself.”

She gave Florence a swift hug, kissed her cheek, and hurried away, just as Henry Stanhope came around the corner.

Henry paused as he saw the girls embrace, saw Miss Weston hurry away, and Florence wipe the tears from her cheeks. She was crying. Why the devil was she crying?

“Miss Knight?” he said.

She muttered something under her breath, which he thought might be a curse, as she turned away from him.

“Miss Knight,” he said again, walking to her. “Is something wrong? Has someone upset you?”

If anyone had hurt her, he’d bloody crucify them.