Page 45 of Discovering Grace

Lifting his eyes, he fixed her with a disbelieving stare. “Clever of you.” He spoke the words flatly when he ought to have railed at her, or at least sounded disappointed. “This is serious, Grace. Your mother wrote to tell me she is staying another week. Perhaps you ought to write her your confession while I think upon this. I cannot decide how best to handle this situation. She may have greater insight.” And then he went back to his chair, sitting and picking up a book. “Good day, Grace.”

The dismissal did nothing to ease her shock. How could he have no reaction, nothing to say, other than to put her out of his way again?

“Papa?” She twined and twisted her fingers. “Do you not wish to know why?”

He put down the book and leaned back in his chair. “I can imagine. Hope wanted to have her adventure. You desired to stay home. You did what suited you best, never mind who you hurt or the trust you broke.”

Although not technically incorrect, it was much less defensible than how she had worded it to Jacob. “No one should be forced to leave their home if they do not wish to go,” she said at last, voice nearly a whisper. “It was not what suited me best, Papa. It was not fear of going.”

“Doubtless those were strong motivators. I have excused you to your room, Grace. I no longer wish to speak of the matter.” He did not lift his book, but kept his eyes on her, a furrow appearing in his brow.

Grace closed her eyes. “Papa, can you not see? There are precious few choices for a woman. To order me halfway across the world as some sort of punishment—”

He interrupted, tone at last stern. “It was an opportunity for growth. One that might never come your way again. It is true, you had no choice in the matter, but I acted as a concerned father. You are content to let life happen all around you, Grace, without actively seeking to better yourself or the world in which you live. Hope, though she can be over-exuberant, is not afraid of the world or of leaving home. She would make adventure for herself anywhere she goes. But not you.” He released a long-suffering sigh, a sound which bruised Grace’s heart. “You are timid, you are content for things to remain unchanging, and it concerns me. Now. Go to your room.”

The command given firmly, Grace had to obey. She sucked in a quick breath and turned, each footstep falling heavily. Which of them was right? She thought it her. But that Papa could not understand her, and he saw such weakness in her character, hurt deeply.

There were arguments she might have made. Her parents hated traveling and rarely ever took their children to London, for the Season or anything else. They remained happily at home. Why was it wrong for her to wish for the same?

And timid? She could not think herself so. Especially given the difficulty of pretending to be Hope in such varied situations. Jacob had not thought her timid. He thought her willful and rebellious.

As for the neighbors, why should they care which twin went where? Or which they had been talking to? Few of them even bothered to ascertain which sister they spoke to before beginning conversations.

No one would care at all.

For the first time since Hope had gone away, Grace entered her own bedroom. The familiar greens and blues, the soft rug by her hearth, immediately comforted her bruised heart. She settled upon her bed and took down her hair. At last, she could be herself again.

* * *

Jacob paced back and forth after dinner, eyeing the writing desk in the corner of the parlor.

His mother noticed. “Whatever is wrong with you tonight, Jacob?” He pulled his gaze away from the paper and pen, fixing it upon his mother instead. She sat in her favorite chair, her little terrier in her lap. “You hardly said a word at dinner and now you are attempting to wear a path into my best carpet.”

His feet stopped.

“I think it is one of two things,” Matthew said from the other side of the room, newspaper open in his lap. “He is either nervous over the ordination or anxious about a lady.”

Elizabeth and Mary both giggled where they sat upon the couch, organizing a box of buttons.

“Jacob, anxious about a lady?” Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched high. “I cannot imagine it. He has never courted anyone.”

Mary, younger and more intrigued by the interaction of men and women than not, peered at him through narrowed eyes. “Jacob does not even dance often. I cannot think it is about a lady.”

He looked from one family member to the other, hardly knowing if he ought to be insulted or amused. Unfortunately, given his present state of mind, he was merely tired. “I happen to enjoy dancing, and I will thank you all not to speak of me as though I am not present.”

Matthew turned his newssheet over. “You had better tell Mother what is bothering you if you wish for the rest of us to stop speculating.”

“It’s nothing.” Jacob took one of the empty chairs near the couch. “I suppose I’m anxious to be on my way tomorrow.” He could not tell them about Grace. He did not know if she had spoken to her own father yet.

He felt his mother’s stare, as he had many times in his youth. When she spoke, he was unsurprised. “Perhaps you ought to go and visit Sir Isaac before you leave. He is one of your oldest friends, after all, and may wish you to take your leave of him.”

Jacob answered without thought, “I will only be away a week.”

“Jacob.” When his mother spoke in that commanding tone of voice he had to look directly at her. It was not the voice of gentle coaxing she had used before, but one of command. When he turned to her, she considered him a moment with pursed lips before issuing her edict. “Go visit Sir Isaac.”

“Yes, Mother.” He stood and went to the door.

“Why does he have to go? And at this time of night?” Mary asked, her curiosity sweetly innocent.