"Having not said anything the first time, it was somehow even more difficult to broach the subject the second time around."
—Douglas Adams; So Long, And Thanks for All the Fish
X.
"Is your sister happy to be married?" Susanna asked Grace curiously as she received a polishing cloth from Grace.
"Yes, very," replied Grace, nodding.
Grace was sitting in the servants' dining room with around four dozen sets of silverware. As Miss Naismith was safely above stairs practising some new hairstyles on the duchess, Susanna had taken it as her chance to come and visit with Grace again. The duchess' maid would be the only one to relay any information from downstairs. While the other servants would see it as highly odd that Lady Susanna Beresford would assist with household chores, Mrs Hayes was one to set them straight in going about their days.
It helped greatly that Mrs Hayes was so fond of the three Beresfords, and Grace, as well.
Over the last month, Susanna had often taken opportunities to seek Grace out, and Grace had been terribly grateful for it. As much as she might have felt like she was indulging Susanna in the beginning, she was a dear, sweet young lady, whose company Grace greatly enjoyed. She hadn't realised before now how few friends she really had. Ruby had been the first person that she had befriended outside of her own sisters in years. Counting Susanna as a friend was a real pleasure.
Susanna was curious about many things, and Grace did think that she had a bit of a romanticised view of Grace's life. Susanna saw Grace as independent. A woman of three and twenty, unmarried and earning an income. No matter how many times Grace tried to tell Susanna that they had very differing views of independence, she didn't seem to take notice.
Susanna was still very young in so many ways.
"And did you not mind that your younger sister married before you?" Susanna asked curiously as she picked up a knife and began to polish it.
"Lord, no," rebuked Grace. "I would never condemn my sister's happiness because of the order of our births."
"I am glad she is happy," Susanna said then, a smile on her face. "I remember both Kate and Claire from the schoolroom. I envied you three a lot. I always wanted a sister."
"You have two wonderful older brothers," Grace murmured softly, her voice breaking unwillingly as she spoke.
"Yes," Susanna agreed. "I do. It still has been a lonely existence for a long time," she admitted. "Both Adam and Jack were away at school for so long. Even now, they like to tuck themselves away."
Grace never liked to inquire, no matter how she might have wished to. If Susanna wanted to speak of specifics, Grace let her, but she never started it.
"Jack hides from Mother," Susanna continued, "as you know. I am sure you all hear the fighting down here. Jack finds windowsills to read from in the many forgotten corners of this house. And Adam," she emphasised, "has been with Papa in his study for weeks. Papa has decided it is time for him to learn the trade, I suppose."
"You are not going to clean the silverware by tickling it," Grace interjected, changing the subject. Grace showed her the pressure she would need to apply to make the silver shine properly.
Even though Grace never liked to bring up the subjects that she didn't want to talk about, being Susanna's friend meant that she ought to inquire about what Susanna wanted or needed to say.
Grace looked to her left and placed a comforting hand on Susanna's forearm. "Susanna," she said softly, calling her friend by her first name after weeks of insistence, "you need not ever feel lonely. I have never abandoned anyone that I care about, so I hope you know that you may always find comfort with me."
Grace saw several looks, several emotions cross Susanna's face briefly, but never sticking. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what she was thinking. "I believe you, Grace," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "I do," she said again, nodding her head. "Which is why I cannot understand ..."
Susanna liked to tease some of her thoughts at times, trailing off instead of finishing her sentence. It was almost as though she was afraid to finish the thought, and Grace grew increasingly frustrated. "You don't understand what?" she pressed. "Have I done something to you?"
"No, not to me." Susanna clamped her lips shut, her brows furrowing over her blue eyes, as though she were holding in something terribly troubling.
Grace's posture straightened as it became her turn to frown. "I have done something to someone else," she surmised. "Pray, what sin have I supposedly committed?" she asked in confusion.
Susanna looked around, watching for eavesdroppers, but the only servants around were Mrs Reynolds and her kitchen maids. They were far too busy with the Beresfords' luncheon to be paying any attention to what Grace and Susanna were talking about at the table.
"Adam," whispered Susanna. "The letter." She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously as the words escaped her mouth, as though she were speaking blasphemy.
But Grace's eyes flared, and she sucked in a sharp breath. "He told you about the letter?" she all but hissed.
Susanna looked helpless. "Well, of course," she nodded. "I had to help him with it ... it was an awful time for him."
Grace could not believe what she was hearing. Susanna had gone to the effort of befriending her ... and had all but confessed to being an accomplice in the letter that had all but ruined her youth. "It was an awful time for him?" Grace exclaimed, careful to watch the volume of her voice. Her hands began to shake, which made the silverware rattle in her hands. She put them down on the table and moved her hands into her lap.
"It was your letter then," Susanna said, disheartened.
"Well, of course it was," snapped Grace. "You knew all about it."
Susanna stared at Grace. "Why are you angry with me?" she demanded to know.
Grace forced herself to take a deep breath, not wanting to lash out, or say something that she would regret in temper. "I really struggle to believe that your brother had such a hard time with the letter, milady," she said tensely. The idea that Adam was the one who deserved sympathy made her blood boil.
"Well, he did!" Susanna insisted forcefully. "He was heartbroken! For months! How could you not think he would feel that way after that letter?"
"Oh, well, I am sorry that your brother's cold, unfeeling, unfaithful heart was hurt by that letter," Grace seethed, seeing red, before immediately regretting her words as Susanna recoiled in shock. What was she thinking? She needed to control herself.
Susanna breathed shakily. "Adam is not cold, unfeeling, or unfaithful," she insisted. "You seriously misjudge him, Grace."
Grace looked back down at the silverware and clenched her teeth. "I need to get back to work, milady. I think that this conversation needs to end. We clearly share differing opinions on this subject, and any further discussion will only result in regrets. I suggest you go back upstairs."
"Do you not want to be my friend anymore, Grace?" Susanna asked quietly.
Grace forced herself to take another deep breath. Susanna would have still been very young when that letter was sent. Even if she had known about it, she would not have been in a position to do anything about it. Of course, Susanna would admire her older brother. Grace could not condemn her for that.
"I told you that I would never abandon anyone that I care about," Grace repeated her earlier words. "If you like, I may see you tomorrow."
***
Grace had been permitted a half day that Friday to attend to her mother, who was being visited by the doctor. As it was now the end of October, and two months since her fall, Doctor Carlton had returned to check on her.
Both Grace and Claire sat either side of their mother as the doctor looked over her leg. Mrs Denham was praying that she be allowed out of bed, as she was going absolutely mad in her confinement.
"I am satisfied that this leg has healed quite nicely, Mrs Denham," Doctor Carlton observed, feeling about her leg. "That does not mean you will be skipping and dancing anytime soon, but light exercise and some fresh air should assist in your healing. Short distances only as you build up your strength again."
"Oh, thank the Lord," declared Mrs Denham. "What a long recovery this has been. Might I attend the ball tomorrow evening, do you think, Doctor?" she asked. "It is the last public assembly before the winter, and I would so like a little entertainment."
Doctor Carlton smiled. "A carriage ride over, and you are to be seated," he insisted. "But I do not see why not." Doctor Carlton returned his instruments to his leather bag and clipped it shut. "I must bid you adieu, ladies."
"Thank you!" all three Denham women exclaimed at once as Claire volunteered to show the doctor out.
"I am so pleased for you, Mama," Grace said excitedly, squeezing her mother's hand.
"As I am, my dear," replied Mrs Denham. "As soon as I am able, I will return to Mrs Slickson's house. I am certain she would have you back in a heartbeat, and you would no longer have to work in that house. I do not care what you say, I can see it in your eyes, Grace. It grieves you to be there."
Grace couldn't stop her tears from falling from her eyes as soon as her mother had pointed them out. She fell into her mother's arms and felt immediately comforted as Mrs Denham began to stroke her hair.
"I am just being silly," Grace wept. "I found out yesterday that Susanna knew about the letter. She tried to tell me how hurt he was about it, but I don't understand how that is supposed to make me feel. Should I be happy that he has a conscience? Because all I want to do is slap him across the face whenever I see him."
Which, granted, was not very often at all. Grace believed that he actively avoided her.
"You will have to beat me to it, dear one," Mrs Denham assured her. "I imagine he will be in attendance tomorrow night, and I can tell you right now that your brothers and Mr Ellis will need to hold me back from him for causing you such grief."
Mrs Denham cupped Grace's face and brought her eyes up. With her thumbs, Mrs Denham brushed away Grace's tears.
"I am not so foolish to believe that the promise of a boy would stand the test of time," she whispered, "but he treated me so cruelly then, and he continues it now. Perhaps I could forgive him if he at least apologised to me. But whenever he does see me, he looks upon me as though I have just set him on fire.
"What makes it even worse is that his fiancée is coming to stay sometime in early November. He is engaged, Mama. How wicked of me to be thinking of another woman's fiancé with anything but indifference."
Mrs Denham frowned. "It is never wicked to feel, my Grace," she insisted. "Until he is man enough to own what he did, I fear there will never be peace in your heart."
Another set of arms wound themselves around Grace as Claire joined them. "Kate has left some of her old gowns for us," she said quietly. "Not old of course, but things she no longer wears as you know Mr Ellis likes to spoil her. I am sure there is something in our room that will make you feel beautiful tomorrow night. Adam Beresford will not be the only man in attendance."
Grace sniffed and smiled at her sister. "And neither will Arthur Slickson," she countered.
Claire blushed crimson at the mention of the gentleman that she desperately fancied. "Hush," she said bashfully.
"Dear me, Claire. What am I to do with you?" tsked Mrs Denham. "You are too sweet for Mr Slickson. You deserve someone with a heart as soft as yours."
"Mr Slickson is sweet," protested Claire.
Grace, for once, welcomed her sister's infatuation with Arthur Slickson as it took her mind away from her tears. She would be keeping an eye on Claire tomorrow, and that would hopefully keep her eyes away from someone else.