Page 49 of Discovering Grace

The sun peeked out from behind the gray swath of clouds, giving her a moment of brightness. Squaring her shoulders, Grace continued on her way, determined still to take her walk and enjoy the rain-freshened garden.

* * *

The next morning, Grace prepared for services with her usual care. She dressed modestly, in shades of cool green that reminded her of spring. Susan did her hair in intricate twists which would allow curls to escape from her bonnet in a fetching manner. When she came down the stairs, her father gave her an odd look before he led her outside to the gig.

The church was not far, and in previous years their family had walked because Papa insisted it wore the children out enough that they would sit still during the sermon.

Papa had hardly spoken to her at dinner the night before, but when he did speak he was polite. There was no frustration in his voice anymore. Though Grace may have imagined it, she thought he had even begun to look at her with something like understanding. One day, he might speak to her of her choices again, but she doubted another word would be said on the matter once she made her apology to the neighborhood.

Grace admired the church anew as they approached it. The old stone building had long ago been a Catholic chapel, built the year before King Henry VIII decreed himself independent of Rome and the Pope. Despite the church’s age, it still served their parish well. The fine cut of the stone, the ancient stained glass, gave the smallish building distinction and beauty.

While she sat next to her father, listening to Mr. Spratt’s reading of a sermon on forgiveness, she imagined what it would be like in a fortnight when Jacob stood to deliver his first scripture and sacraments. He would look well in his vestments, as distinguished as the church itself. His warm voice would wash over the room and reverberate against the stone walls most pleasantly.

Her heart throbbed, sore still from his parting words. Though she tried not to think on him, tried not to remember the way he had stared at her in the orchard as if he would kiss her, Jacob’s smiles and frowns lived within her mind and heart. If only he had understood her, or at least made the attempt.

Their friendship had been damaged, she well knew. It would take a great deal of time to heal it again, if ever it was to be healed. Yet despite telling him the truth Grace had kept one thing back. Telling him of her feelings, her admiration and the love she felt for him, could have done no more damage than her actions already had.

Sir Isaac, seated near the front, turned slightly and beamed at her. Dear Isaac, always her friend no matter what. Did he know what she was about to do, in front of the whole congregation? She had noticed more than a few people turn her way only to next bend their heads to whisper to their neighbors. They were all judging her, speculating on what she had done and why.

The sermon drew to a close. A final hymn was sung after the prayer was said. Then Mr. Spratt looked to her father, his eyebrows raised behind his spectacles.

This was it. This was the moment Grace must speak. Every muscle in her body tensed as she prepared to stand.

To her surprise, her father silently shook his head, staring back at the vicar. Mr. Spratt nodded graciously at Grace, and then walked out of the building to stand in his customary place to bid everyone a good sabbath.

Grace stared after him, then turned to look up at her father. “Papa?”

“Grace.” He heaved a sigh, as though he bore a great weight upon his chest. “My dear girl, let us go home. Our business is our own, what consequences that arise naturally from your actions will be enough.”

She reached out and took his hand. “Thank you, Papa.” He turned his palm over and squeezed her hand gently. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He offered her his arm. They left the church, greeted by a few friends, smiled upon by Mr. Spratt, and Grace held her head high all the way home.

Chapter 19

Jacob sat with his eldest brother in a private parlor at their inn, the silence between them comfortable. The late afternoon sunlight cast a soft light into the room, and Jacob’s thoughts lingered on the ordination he had undergone hours earlier. Matthew had accompanied Jacob to Norwich, to lend his support and companionship to the journey.

“You are a changed man, I take it?” Matthew asked, bringing an end to Jacob’s contemplative state.

“I hope so.” Jacob fought back a grin. “It would be a sorry thing if such an event had no impact upon my person. I have promised a great many things to God and to myself today. I hope I am ready for this responsibility.”

Matthew leaned back in his chair, a gleam in his eye. “I do as well, for I must put a request to you. An official request to my priest. Would you officiate for a wedding ceremony between myself and Eliza Muir?”

Although the family expected, and hoped, for an announcement of the sort, Jacob’s surprise delayed his response a moment. “I would be honored, Matthew. Why have you waited this long? Surely not for me.”

“Of course for you,” Matthew scoffed good-naturedly. “I can think of nothing finer than to have you perform the ceremony, and Eliza agreed. You ought to get your practice in with people who will not mind your novice recitation of the marriage sacrament.”

Jacob laughed and raised his half-empty cup to his brother. “I salute you for finding a willing bride at last.”

Lifting his cup, Matthew nodded in agreement. “And finally giving Mother grandchildren.” They both tipped their dinner cups and drank.

“It is cheating to marry someone who already has children.” Jacob had met Mrs. Muir’s children on several occasions. They were young, a little girl and a boy barely out of leading strings, and as adorable as children that age could be. “You will be a fine father to them.”

“That is my hope.” Matthew stared into his cup, his eyebrows drawn down. “I have come to love them and their mother. I cannot imagine many more days without Eliza by my side and those children filling our old nursery with their joy.”

Watching his brother over the past several months, Jacob had seen the change in Matthew, a change wrought by love. He was still himself, but a better version than he had previously been. Matthew was more thoughtful of others, and he laughed more, too.

“When do you think you will propose to the Everly girl?” Matthew asked.