Her Secret Beau: A Touches 0f Austen Novel Bok 3 Page 12

Dread settled around Grace’s heart. She was all too familiar with her sister’s propensity to sneak away and behave inappropriately. “Where is she now?”

  “Downstairs with your father and Mr. Clayton.”

  That was a relief. Had Felicity been left to her own devices, she might have attempted to follow Mr. Ramsey.

  “And where is Mr. Ramsey?” Bea asked before Grace could.

  “No one knows. He has not returned to his rooms.”

  “But his things, Mama.” Grace grasped her mother’s hand attempting to capture her mother’s quickly deteriorating attention. “He will have to return for his things or have them sent. Surely, someone will soon know where he is. We only need to wait and be patient. He could be anywhere doing anything. We do not know that he has quit Bath.”

  “But he has! He has quit Bath, for that is what Felicity was told when she inquired of the gentleman who keeps the room below Mr. Ramsey’s.”

  “She spoke to someone?” Oh, that was not good. Sneaking in and out was always best done when no one discovered the activity.

  Mrs. Love nodded as tears began to spill down her cheeks. “She may be with child.”

  Grace’s stomach attempted to tie itself in a knot. How could Felicity do such a thing as that? Kissing a gentleman was one thing but to allow him to bed her? Oh, it was unthinkable!

  “Do you know this for certain?” Bea asked.

  “Her father quizzed her most thoroughly. It is a very real possibility.”

  “Then, it is imperative that we remain in Bath until we discover where Mr. Ramsey has gone.” He must be made to marry her, if not for her sister’s sake, at least, for the sake of the child. If her stomach was not so knotted, Grace was nearly certain she would have cast up her accounts at the thought of such wickedness as a gentleman abandoning a lady, whom he claimed to love and had seduced, as well as his child.

  “He quit Bath with another lady. He has used your sister very ill.”

  The image of the lady in the corridor at the Upper Rooms sprang to mind. “Oh, dear. Did this lady have blond hair?”

  “I really do not know. Why do you ask such a thing?”

  “Because I saw him with some blond-haired lady last night at the assembly in the passageway to the carriages. They looked very cozy, and I thought it strange. I was going to tell you about it tomorrow – I mean today – before Felicity had her private interview with Mr. Ramsey.” She was not about to allow her sister to accept such a fellow without telling her of what had been seen, and she had hoped to know more about who the lady was once Walter called on her this morning.

  “It is too late now. Your father insists that you prepare to depart as soon as can be. We cannot stay here any longer. The shame is too much. It shall surely taint you as well.”

  “But I did nothing wrong!” Grace cried.

  “That may be, but to be the sister of such a wanton woman! Oh, you are ruined.”

  Grace sat backwards on the floor. “No, no. I will not leave.”

  “You have no choice in this matter. If we can leave quietly and find a place for your sister…” Her mother’s voice trailed off as she began to weep.

  “I will help you,” Bea offered. “As soon as I see that your mother has been safely returned to your father.”

  “I cannot leave.”

  “It is best,” Bea said. “The less gossip there is, the better.”

  No! No, it was not best. She could not and would not leave Walter. How could her mother ask her to give up her happiness because of her sister? True, her mother did not know about her attachment to Mr. Blakesley, but that did not matter. It was still horribly unfair to be asked to leave Bath and her friends just because her sister was stupid.

  “Oh, what gentleman would want to be tied to such a family? We are doomed,” her mother wailed.

  Her mother’s words fell heavily on Grace. Would being married to her cause Walter harm? Would his business endeavors suffer? Would she be shunned by his family? And would that, in turn, bring even more misery to him?

  As Bea helped Mrs. Love from the room, question upon dreadful question tumbled and tangled in Grace’s mind, and her heart crumbled into a thousand jagged pieces as she realized what she must do because she loved him. She could not ask him to face a life of unhappiness because of her. It was too selfish by half.

  A cold deeper than the dampest, most frigid winter’s day settled over her as she rose from the floor and sought a piece of paper and a pen. It was best to dissolve their scheme and end their relationship while it still remained a secret.

  We have been called home unexpectedly, she wrote and paused.

  No, that would not do. She tore that part of the paper off and began again.

  Thank you for indulging me in my scheme and being my secret beau. I have had the most delightful time and shall cherish my memories of you. Please know that my heart shall never forget you. I wish you well and a life of happiness.

  Forever your secret angel.

  G-

  She wiped tears from her cheek with the sleeve of her nightgown. Then, she folded the missive and wrote Mr. Walter Blakesley on the front before sealing it and leaving it on the desk. If Bea did not see that it was given to Mr. Blakesley, he would find it when he came to check on his house after the Claytons and Sheltons had left.

  She imagined him sitting at the desk, reading her words, and smiling fondly as he remembered her. Would he find another angel? How could he not? He was handsome and had a fortune. Added to that, he was amiable and sweet. He was perfect. Absolutely, utterly perfect. Any lady would be an utter fool not to fall in love with him.

  She sank down onto the bed and wiped away more tears with her sleeve.

  What would his new lady be like? Who would share this house with him? Would they have loads of children or just two? Each new and troubling contemplation tore the pieces of her heart into smaller and smaller bits, leaving a vast and painful void where her heart had once been.

  “Your mother is safe at your father’s side. My husband has seen to getting her some wine.”

  Grace drew in a deep breath and released it before turning toward Bea and beginning the chore of packing.

  Half an hour later, with help from Bea and her maid, Grace was appropriately dressed for travel and her trunk was ready to be tied to the carriage which would travel ahead of them to Kent.

  “You did not mean to leave without a proper goodbye, did you?” Roger stood in the entry with his wife at his side. “Victoria is going to miss Philomena almost as much as she will miss you.” He scratched behind Philomena’s ear and then grasped Grace’s hand firmly and lifted it to his lips. “Your absence will be felt by many.”

  Grace glanced at her mother and then leaning forward whispered. “I left him a note in my room.” She simply could not leave it to chance that Walter got her message.

  “I will see that it is taken care of,” Roger assured her. “I wish you could stay, and I know I am not alone in such sentiments.”

  “No, you are not,” she agreed. She wished with every fiber of her being that she could remain right her with her friends, where Walter would find her.

  Victoria embraced her warmly and muttered her sorrow at having to part and then added that she would write faithfully. Bea did the same, and then Graeme saw them all to their carriage and, after handing Philomena to Grace, gave her his wishes for a safe journey.

  “You are certain he is not returning to Bath?” Grace whispered as they pulled away from Erondale. The agony in her soul deepened with each turn of the wheel down the drive.

  “I think we are,” her father answered.

  “Could we not chase after him?”

  “Chase him to where? We do not know where he has gone. And, there is no need to draw undue attention to a situation which might otherwise be dispelled of quietly.”

  “Felicity could have gone home, and I could have just said she was ill.” She sighed as Erondale was no longer visible through the carriage window.

&nbs
p; “I know this is not easy for you,” her father replied. “You have endured a great deal.”

  “Far more than you know,” Grace muttered. Thankfully, Felicity seemed too distraught to be a danger in revealing what she knew about Mr. Blakesley. With any luck, the strain of her current ordeal would wipe the memory of Mr. Blakesley from Felicity’s mind. It was best if that part of Grace’s stay in Bath remained secret.

  “Come sit with me,” her father said. “Your mother can sit with Felicity.”

  The exchange was made, and Mr. Love wrapped an arm around his youngest daughter’s shoulders, kissing her forehead, and muttering his sorrow for what she must suffer. Grace snuggled into her father’s side, and while stroking Philomena’s fur, allowed her tears to fall unfettered, for once again, though she had not charmed him away, her sister had stolen a gentleman from Grace. Only this time, in doing so, Felicity had not crushed a gentleman’s heart, but that of her own sister.

  Chapter 18

  Walter rubbed his neck. Sleeping on a rug on the ground even for a few hours was bound to make a gentleman stiff and sore, or, at least, that is how it was for him. The sun, which was just beginning to climb above the horizon and wake the world, was starting to warm him some as he started down the road towards home. That small amount of warmth would have to suffice until he got home and could climb into a steaming bath.

  His stomach rumbled. He should have brought more food with him. However, he had not expected to be out all night trying to discover where Ramsey and his companion had gone. He had followed them to a tavern ten miles back, but from there, he could not find their trail anywhere. Who Ramsey’s mystery lady was remained a mystery. No one seemed able to identify her. Of course, most of the men in the tavern had not been completely sober, and the barmaids had been too interested in flirting with him to tell him anything about some lady whom they considered a rival.

  He would have to present himself empty-handed to Grace, and that fact did not sit well with him. He had promised to discover what he could, and he had done exactly that. Yet, the fact that all he could discover was nothing did not seem a fitting way to keep such a promise. Grace would want to know more. She was a curious, caring sort. In his opinion, she owed her sister little, but Grace’s heart would not see it that way. No matter how much she disagreed with or disapproved of her sister, Grace would do what she could to protect her sister from harm.

  He chuckled, causing his horse’s ears to twitch in his direction.

  “I was just thinking about your new mistress,” he said to his horse. “She is a unique lady.”

  The horse blew a breath through its lips.

  “I tell you she is. You will understand once you meet her.”

  Maybe today she would allow him to take her for a drive now that she was willing to reveal their secret relationship. Today, he would begin courting Miss Grace Love publicly, and next week, he would speak to her father. Well, he would speak to her father next week if he could be patient enough to wait until then.

  His failure to obtain the information Grace sought was a small cloud on his very happy future. If he were not so stiff and sore from spending a few hours sleeping beside the road, and if his boots did not smell like the ale which an inebriated patron at that tavern had managed to spill on them, he would drive directly to Erondale. But as he was, going home to make himself presentable was the best option.

  Tomorrow, he would attempt to take her with him when he called on Mrs. King, and together, they could decide how best to encourage Norman and Miss Chapmen to re-establish their friendship. Grace would likely find that to be an amusing scheme.

  Again, he chuckled.

  His horse blew through its lips in response.

  “You are excessively cranky today, Lady,” Walter called forward. “I promise you will get a good meal before we visit Miss Grace. That should set you up to be properly friendly, but if it does not, it is no matter. Miss Grace will charm you into a better mood.”

  From the replying snort, his horse did not seem to agree with his master’s assessment, but then, Lady had not met Grace. If she had, then she’d know it to be true. Grace was ebullient. Her smile sparkled, and her eyes twinkled. Joy seemed to bubble just beneath the surface on most occasions. Even when she was repressing her enthusiasm for life and adventures, her joy seemed to need to find its release in small sighs.

  And all that exuberance was soon to be his – as soon as he could talk to her father and then make his offer to her. How fortunate could one gentleman be?

  ~*~*~

  “You seem exceptionally cheerful,” Norman said to him later as Walter poured his friend a cup of tea.

  “Do you wish for some?” Walter sliced a Sally Lunn in half.

  “Just a quarter,” Norman replied.

  How the man survived on such scant meals was beyond Walter’s ability to comprehend. “Do your patients feed you?” That was likely it.

  “On occasion.”

  “And did you see many patients this morning?”

  “Two. Both with excellent cooks.” Norman smiled over the rim of his cup.

  Ah, so that was it. The man only ate small bits at every stop so that he could indulge in all that was offered. It was a good way of doing things. Many of the elderly women upon whom Norman called would likely find it an offense if their hospitality was refused. Mrs. King was that way.

  “Did you call on Mrs. King?”

  Norman shook his head. “No. Nor do I plan to call on her. I have sent a note withdrawing my services.”

  “You have done what?” Walter lowered his cup without taking a sip. “Have you lost all sense?”

  “It would be folly for me to continue,” Norman snapped.

  The man was testy!

  “Do you love her? And I do not mean Mrs. King.” Walter finally took a sip of his tea while waiting for Norman to slowly chew a bit of his bun.

  “I never stopped loving Belle, which is why I cannot pursue her.”

  Walter said nothing in response. Not that he did not wish to say something. He very much wanted to say several somethings, but he was not the sort to pontificate over his friend. The heart was a delicate organ. It was capable of great things such as holding onto love for an entire lifetime, but it was also easily damaged and difficult to repair when love was unrequited or worse — stolen.

  “I would speak to her,” was the only comment Walter allowed himself to share.

  Norman simply shook his head and tore another bite off his bun.

  “Mrs. King knows about Grace.”

  Norman looked at Walter in surprise. “How?”

  “I told her – not in so many words, but I hinted quite blatantly.”

  “When? Did you do this last night?”

  Walter nodded. “When Grace and I were taking a turn of the corridor, she and her niece found us.” Walter smiled at the memory. “She loves me.”

  “Miss Grace?”

  Once again, Walter nodded. “She told me last night.” He expelled a great sigh. “I am planning to speak to her father soon. I realize we have not been acquainted long, but I see no need to wait.” Not when his heart was so irrevocably lost to Grace.

  “Indeed? That is excellent news!”

  “Miss Chapman seemed relieved to know that Grace was not pursuing you in earnest.” Walter shrugged when Norman looked at him skeptically. “You know Mrs. King and her opinions on who should be matched with whom.”

  Norman chuckled.

  Mrs. King was excessively interested in the lives of young lovers. How many times had she suggested ladies to him only to be disappointed in his assessment that whichever lady was presented was not up to his standards? She had even lectured him a time or two on his expectations being too far-reaching. He tipped his head and studied his friend.

  “Has Mrs. King tried to match you with anyone?”

  Norman shook his head. “Not as of late. I believe she gave up her quest sometime in the autumn if not before.”

  “Hmmm. Interesting.�
�� If he was remembering correctly, that was also right around the time when she began speaking more and more about her niece who was to join her in Bath.

  “How so?”

  “She is not the sort to give up on seeing someone well-matched. Heaven knows I have tried to get her to leave off matching me.”

  “That does make it interesting, but I am sure there was a reason.”

  Most likely, the reason was now living in one of Mrs. King’s guest rooms, but he would not say as much to Norman. He would just bide his time while watching and listening – and scheming with Grace. He smiled.

  “You do look exceptionally happy today,” Norman commented. “But I guess knowing the lady you love returns that love will have that effect on a gentleman.”

  “Indeed, it will. I am going to Erondale as soon as I am through here. I thought it best not to arrive in my travelling clothes and famished.” He swallowed the last of his tea. “Are you going to visit either Mrs. Shelton or Mrs. Clayton today?”

  “I had not intended to do so, but I am free for the afternoon. A social call would not be out of the question.”

  “Then allow me to offer you a ride, though I do hope to convince Grace to go driving with me while you are occupied with the Claytons and Sheltons. So, I will not be available to cart you back to town for an emergency should one come calling.”

  “I am certain I can be free from being called away for a few hours, and if not, perhaps Clayton would do me the service of conveying me back to town.” He rose from his place at the table. “And while you are driving me to Erondale, perhaps, you can tell me why you were in travelling clothes.”

  ~*~*~

  “I had hoped that what I had heard was not true,” Norman said as they approached Erondale and Walter had finished telling him his tale of chasing after Ramsey once he had discovered that the man had left the Upper Rooms.

  “What did you hear?”

  “Just that Ramsey was seen with some pretty lady who was not the same pretty lady he had been dancing with at the ball, and that it seemed he was playing Miss Love false.”

  That was what it most certainly looked as if Ramsey was doing. Walter shook his head and sighed. “Gossip travels quickly.”