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Chapter Twelve
GracenoddedpolitelyasLord Brown spoke on and on regarding...something. She wasn’t even fully sure what their conversation was composed of anymore. She only knew that her hand still rested around his arm and that Lady Katherine had claimed his other arm and was speaking most animatedly with him.
Seeing them like this, each trying to outshine the other as they walked into the parlor, it was quite clear how perfect they were for one another. They both craved society and attention and being seen as fashionable. More still, Grace was growing more and more certain that, while his intentions may have been different at the start of the house party, at this point, Lord Brown pursued her mostly in an effort to out-game Lord Weston. Likewise, Lady Katherine seemed to be sinking her claws further into Lord Brown only because she wished to out-maneuver Grace.
What a mess they both were—and so well suited. Could they not see that themselves? A few weeks ago, Lord Brown had wished for Grace, and Lady Katherine had believed herself wanting Lord Weston, but perhaps Lord Brown and Lady Katherine would find the matches they’d been hoping for this holiday after all.
Grace was more than happy to relinquish any supposed hold on Lord Brown that Lady Katherine clearly believed she still had. He was all hers. As they continued on and on, Grace stayed silent, allowing her mind to wander back to what had just happened.
She was more than happy to keep to herself as she relived what had been and pondered what almost was.
For days now, she’d been hoping Lord Weston might be willing to see past her station and just see her. His words still rung inside her mind.Do you honestly believe such a thing would matter to me?She smiled at the memory.
The door opened and a footman stepped in. “Lady Frances Stanhope, my lord.”
Lady Frances had come? Grace turned quickly to the door. She’d not expected her friend to join them this holiday. What a joyous surprise.
Lord Weston stepped into the room first. His gaze caught hers. His brow was creased and the look he gave her—gracious but his expression was hard to read.
Lord Brown led her and Lady Katherine over. “Lady Frances, we had not expected you.”
“But I hope my surprise arrival is not unwelcome,” Lady Frances said with a flutter of her lashes.
“Certainly not,” Lord Brown continued. “I trust you already know Miss Stewart and Lady Katherine.”
Grace could not stay quiet any longer. “Lady Frances and I are very good friends.” She turned to the woman. “I am so happy you have come in time to join us for the Twelfth Night ball.”
“Yes,” Lady Frances said, her gaze sliding over to Grace and traveling down the full length of her dress.
Grace was quite suddenly put in mind how worn out her dress was, how it was decidedly last year’s fashion. There was just something about the way Lady Frances looked her over that made her smile slip.
“Frances,mydearest friend,” Lady Katherine said, stepping forward and pressing her cheek up against either of Frances’s. “I am so glad you were able to make it.” She turned and faced Lord Brown. “I hope you will also forgive my meddling. When I saw our numbers were so uneven, I wrote to this lovely creature and asked her to join us.”
Lady Katherine and Lady Frances stood shoulder to shoulder, arms intertwined, and faced Grace.
It was as though they’d become a wall, one standing between her and whatever they wished hernotto obtain.
Grace could understand this type of petty action from Lady Katherine, but Lady Frances? Where was the woman who had agreed with her that autumn was magical and that lemonade should always be made extra sweet? Where was the friend who had written her words of comfort and cheer?
“I long for a game of whist,” Lady Katherine said suddenly. “Don’t you?”
“Quite so,” Lady Frances agreed immediately. “Lord Brown, would you join us? You and Lady Katherine can sit opposite myself and my brother.”
Grace felt the women’s dismissal like a slap across the face. This was not at all the woman she’d come to believe was her friend. Had something happened between their last shared letters and now?
“Frances,” Lord Weston grumbled low, “you will remember your manners.”
Lady Frances only turned her nose up at him. “I would be happy to have Miss Stewart join us. Only, Lady Augusta is endeavoring to keep both Lord Andrews and Mr. Banfield entertained on her own.” Her smile grew taut. “Surely one as kind and considerate as Miss Stewart would far prefer helping another than seeing to her own amusement.”
“Then,” Lord Weston said, throwing Grace an apologetic glance, “we shall simply have to ask the three of them to join us as well.”
The evening did not prove enjoyable to Grace. Every time a new game was mentioned or a new activity set upon, Lady Kathrine and Lady Frances connived to squeeze Grace out. The two women all but glued themselves to Lord Brown and Lord Weston’s sides. By the time dinner was announced, Grace was ready to cry off for the entire evening and see herself to her bedchamber.
What had happened that had caused her friend to turn on her so absolutely?
As the rest of the party began filing out of the parlor and toward the dining room, Grace silently made her way over to Lady Brown.
“I beg your pardon, my lady,” she began, her voice soft. “But I fear I have a terrible headache coming on. I think it would be best if I took dinner in my own room tonight.”
