Page 50 of Discovering Grace

Jacob laid an arm over the table and pushed his fork further onto his empty plate. “I do not think I can.” Matthew scowled and opened his mouth to protest, so Jacob hastened to add, “Things have grown more complicated, Matthew. More than I am able to explain.”

“You cannot get out of it that easily. I am your brother. Tell me and perhaps I might help.” Matthew put his cup down and pushed slightly away from the table. “Did you at least take my advice from before?”

It took Jacob a moment to recall what that advice had been. “To determine if she would make me a good wife, not a good wife to a vicar. Yes. But since I am now a vicar, the point is one and the same.”

“Not really.” Matthew stood and went to the window, looking out into the inn’s courtyard as he spoke. “You may be a vicar, but you are still you. The woman you marry needs to please Jacob Barnes, not whatever parish you shepherd. People will come and go, marry, die, leave. Your only constant in this life will be your family, the wife you choose for yourself, your children. So you must choose someone who pleases you, Jacob. Not someone who pleases the flock.”

Jacob considered those words, measuring them against the vows he had that morning taken, promising to care for the souls in his parish and helping them seek their eternal salvation. He had promised to make himself, and his family, a wholesome example to his parish.

When he thought of Grace, despite all that had passed of late, he knew her to be a compassionate woman, kindhearted and good. Gentle and mindful of others.

“There is something else,” Jacob said, lowering his voice. “A secret that I sincerely pray is no longer a secret.”

“This sounds ominous.” Matthew remained where he was, though he turned fully to give Jacob his attention. “What secret?”

Although reluctant to speak of it, Jacob could not keep it to himself any longer. Not in light of all that he had promised that day. It seemed everyone about him had given him advice about Hope, or Grace, and he had yet to settle his own mind and heart as firmly as he wished. After swearing his brother to secrecy, should Grace not have done the right thing by telling her father the truth, Jacob explained all that had happened since Hope had left for the West Indies, including their switch.

Matthew said little, though he listened attentively. His eyebrows shot high upon his forehead when Jacob admitted to almost kissing Grace in the orchard, and then Matthew covered his grin with his fist when Jacob described Grace pushed him away. When Jacob concluded the tale, he stood and went to one of the two chairs by the fire and collapsed into it. His mind and spirit were worn through, even if his body had been little taxed that day.

“It is rather like something out of a novel, or a play.” Matthew came and took the other chair, staring into the fire. “There is too much confusion, with your heart near the center of it. Although I cannot say whether Grace’s actions were right or wrong, it does sound as though this experience has proved difficult for her.”

Jacob steepled his fingers before him. “I have tried not to think about it these past three days. Traveling, preparing for ordination. I had other things to occupy my thoughts. But Grace is still there. In my mind. Pleading with me to understand her.”

“Do you worry about her character?” Matthew asked.

“No. Not at all.” Jacob shifted in his chair and sighed. “I worry about mine.” The truth had come to him as he had stood before the bishop and listened to the prayers and scriptures read. “How could I think myself in love with Hope and be so wrong? And how do I know that giving Grace my attention is any better? I was prepared to ask for a courtship when she told me the whole plan, the switch, had been her idea. It frightened me that I did not know enough about her, one of my oldest friends, to have guessed at it. Isaac knew right away who had planned it,” he admitted, a trifle sourly.

The room had grown dark while they spoke, and a maid entered to light the candles above the mantle. Neither brother said a word while that was done, but when the door shut behind the servant, Matthew leaned forward, clasping his hands before him.

“It sounds as though you are afraid of making a mistake, and I understand that fear. Think on who you want by your side when you face illness, when you welcome a child into the world. Try to decide who you would have as your companion by the fire at night, who you trust to be by your side as you grow old.” Matthew stood and gave Jacob a pat on the shoulder. “You have always been a steady man, Jacob. Patient and careful in what you do. I have faith you will make the right decision.”

The kind words warmed his heart, even if they did not entirely bolster his confidence. Jacob nodded his thanks. “Are you for bed then?”

“I think it wise. We leave early in the morning. Mother will be anxious to have you home a few more days before you live at the vicarage.”

“Good night, Matthew.”

“Good night, Jacob. And good luck.” Matthew left the room.

For some time, Jacob stayed where he was, considering the choices before him. He did not even know Grace’s thoughts on the matter of a courtship. Or what she thought of him. She had always been a kind friend, and a tenderhearted woman. In the past weeks, Jacob had even imagined that she looked at him differently than she had before. Could Isaac have been right about her feelings?

Time. He needed more time before he spoke of his hopes for the future and before he made any plans.

Chapter 20

Grace settled at the pianoforte, her fingers trembling in her impatience. She had gone without her music while pretending to be Hope, and then abstained from playing in order to preserve peace for her father. That morning at breakfast, however, he had requested that she play. And he had spoken to her with such kindness that she knew he was well on his way to forgiving her.

First she played a piece by her favorite Austrian composer, Beethoven. Für Elise. She stumbled on the third measure, as the piece required a rapid pace her fingers were not quite limber enough to play. She did not stop, however. The joy of stumbling through the notes was nearly as perfect as if she had played flawlessly. Then she played one of her father’s favorites, a sonata written by another Austrian musician.

She had moved on to another song when a knock on the open door startled her. Her fingers left the keys when she saw Jacob standing there, his expression uncertain.

“My mother has come to visit you.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “She insisted I come, too. Mr. Everly asked me to fetch you.”

“Oh.” She stared at him a second longer, then lowered her gaze to the instrument. “I will be there in a moment.”

He did not immediately move, which tempted her into looking up at him again.

One corner of his mouth went upward. “You play beautifully, Grace.”