When you engage in an argument, always remember that crazy people see themselves as normal. In their mind there is nothing wrong with them or what they are doing . Only normal people see them being crazy."
—DJ Kyos
XIV.
"You really need not fuss!" cried Mrs Denham as Grace, Kate and Claire helped her into bed. "It is just a little ache!"
Grace could see the pain etched on her mother's face, and it was certainly not a little ache. She would need to dispatch a letter to the doctor in the morning. She was not ready to be out of bed, and it had been more than two months. When would she be alright again? Would she ever be alright again?
"Claire, go and make Mama some tea," Kate instructed, sending their youngest sister down to the kitchen. "I will have Jim see you back to Ashwood House," she told Grace.
"No, I do not want Grace to go yet," insisted Mrs Denham. "Now that we are away from prying eyes," she shifted uncomfortably, "and more importantly, gossiping ears, will you tell me what was discussed between Adam Beresford and yourself?"
Grace could not even think of what had transpired, for all she could focus upon was the beautiful woman who had arrived late. The woman who had turned out to be Adam's fiancée.
Lady Sarah Ashley. Titled, wealthy, and impossibly lovely. What saddened Grace even more was the fact that she looked upon Adam with great affection. There was a connection between them, and Grace knew that it was entirely inappropriate to be speaking of it.
But her mother and sister were awaiting an answer. "You must not bring it up again in conversation," she said firmly. "I will tell you, and then it must be forgotten. Lord Beresford received a nearly identical letter to the one I was sent ending our understanding. Of course, it was not from me, just as the letter that I received was not from him. Someone intervened and ended our friendship, our ... someone put a stop to it. But it is entirely inconsequential now," Grace said quickly. "He is engaged. You all saw him dancing with her."
Kate smiled sympathetically at Grace, softly placing a hand on hers. "Dear Grace, we all saw him dancing with you," she uttered quietly.
"I don't know why I am so surprised," remarked Mrs Denham. "I honestly feel so foolish to have believed Adam capable of such a cruel act for so long. We need not think too long over just who the real culprit could be. I only know one so nasty."
"She never liked me," murmured Grace. "We all know this." Sighing, she stood up. "But what's done is done. I can forgive Adam now. I can put this behind me and get on with my role in his household." She would indeed be needing to maintain that employment for a long while, it seemed. Mrs Denham was in no shape to resume her employment. "I will return to the house now," she added for Kate.
Kate nodded. "I will tell Jim to escort you back." Sighing sadly, Kate pulled Grace into a tight embrace. "I love you so, Grace," she whispered in her ear. "You are the kindest, most selfless person I know. If I could but see you happy, I would be so fulfilled."
***
Ruby had not returned from the ball when Grace entered into their shared bedroom. It was a little after midnight, and the musicians would surely be playing for at least another hour or two. Balls were so few and far between, that Grace would understand if Ruby stayed until the very last song.
Grace changed out of Kate's dress, delicately folding it and laying it down on the end of her bed. She got into her nightgown before finding herself kneeling before her trunk of possessions. She unfolded several of the real letters that Adam had sent to her years ago.
Letters of hope with endless words of tenderness. She found her eyes brimming with tears as she read his dreams for them. Lord, she had not appreciated these words at the time. She had been too young to fully comprehend their meaning. But she could appreciate it now. Now that it was lost. Adam wrote so openly and honestly, with not a care for her station or situation. Nothing could have prevented him. Nothing could have prevented them.
Save for the letter that had been so maliciously concocted. Grace couldn't bear to read the words again, though she knew if she did, she would certainly find evidence of its falsehood now that she knew it was forged.
Tucking the letters safely away, Grace retrieved Adam's ring. She held the little, gold ring between her thumb and forefinger, admiring its shine still after so many years. Perhaps it was wrong, now, to still be in possession of it.
Her mind went to Lady Sarah, who was no doubt still dancing with Adam at the ball, or perhaps they had returned, and she would be sleeping on the floor below her. She was no fool. Sarah was the sort of girl that a man like Adam married.
Grace made the decision to return the ring. Adam had wanted to speak to her further, and they would, and it would be the last time that they talked.
There was a brief knock on Grace's bedroom door which made her jump. Whatever was Ruby knocking for? Grace quickly stashed the ring away and shut her trunk, before rushing over to the door.
"Ruby, why did you knock –" Grace began to ask as she opened the door, her words stopping when she saw the duchess standing in her doorway.
Cecily was dressed in her night things as well, though a duchess' nightwear was far more distinguished then Grace's oversized nightshirt. She was draped in flowing, white silk which looked as soft as a cloud.
"Your Grace!" exclaimed Grace. "Did you need something?"
Cecily didn't wait to be invited in, not that she needed to be in her own house. She walked into Grace's little bedroom, her nose upturning slightly as she took in the simple furnishings.
"I have a little opportunity for you, Grace," Cecily announced, turning around to face her, looking down on her with a calculating stare.
"An opportunity?" stammered Grace.
Cecily scoffed. "Don't repeat what I say, child. You are not a parrot," she scolded. She huffed, continuing. "But, as I said, I have an opportunity for you, which I believe you will find most ... helpful."
Grace remained silent.
"My son's fiancée has arrived to stay for the winter. Oh, I am so delighted," she exclaimed. "There is nothing lovelier than a society wedding. You will have to take my word on that, girl, as I am certain you have never attended such an occasion."
Grace prayed her face did not bear the expression of one that had just been verbally slapped over and over. "No, I haven't."
Cecily smiled, though it was more saccharine sweet than genuine. "I believe you to be a resourceful girl, Grace," she noted. "Clever, even. I suppose you would have to be in order to maintain your household after the sudden death of your father." Her tone became cool. "I do admire your commitment to caring for your family, Grace. It would only be too easy to marry a butcher and look after yourself, but you haven't."
"I have three younger siblings who would be without a home if I did such a thing, Your Grace," replied Grace as steadily as she could manage.
"Well, that brings me back to why I wanted to come and speak to you at such an hour," Cecily continued. "For the opportunity I have for you commences first thing tomorrow.
"I noticed your mother this evening, the pain she was in. It seems her injury is far from healed. She might not ever be properly healed. She may need to walk with a cane. All such things would render her useless as a housemaid. I certainly could never employ someone so ill-equipped to perform their duties. I am certain she will make up for that loss of income by doing laundry or mending or something to make a shilling or two for your family, but it will not keep you."
The same thoughts had been travelling through her own head regretfully. What if her mother was forced to use a cane? She would certainly be unable to work.
And if her leg was so poor, Grace wouldn't want her mother to exert herself like that! She would want her mother to rest at home. But that would mean never adding another income to their household.
"I am going to make you a lady's maid," Cecily announced, watching Grace carefully for her reaction.
"What?" gasped Grace. Of all the things Cecily could do, promoting her was certainly not what she had expected.
"I believe the words you are searching for are, "thank you for your great kindness, Your Grace"," Cecily said facetiously.
If Cecily had sent those letters, why on earth would she be giving Grace such an opportunity? This was indeed a kindness, so why would she bestow it upon Grace?
"Thank you!" exclaimed Grace. "I am most appreciative, Your Grace."
"I thought so," murmured Cecily. "With your mother incapacitated, it will be down to you to ensure your family's survival, and what better way than through a wonderful household position. I am being most generous, I know. I could certainly find someone more qualified, but I thought to myself, who needs this most?" she asked rhetorically. "And then it occurred to me. Grace Denham."
Her tone returned to one of cunning, and a chill ran down Grace's spine. There was an ulterior motive. As much as it seemed this was a kindness, she certainly knew that Cecily was not a selfless person.
"You will receive an additional twelve shillings per week in wages. Does that sound fair?"
Grace gasped. An additional twelve shillings would make her income a little more than what she and her mother were both earning in the employ of Mrs Slickson. Oh, that would certainly help them greatly! "Yes," she said breathlessly. "Yes, Your Grace, that is certainly very fair."
"Good," said Cecily sharply. "I am glad we can agree on that fact." Her eyes then narrowed. "Now that I have bestowed upon you such a kindness, you need to ask me what you can do in return."
The ulterior motive, of course. Grace gulped. What on earth did the duchess want from her that she could not orchestrate herself?
"I have nothing I can give you, Your Grace," Grace murmured gesturing to her surroundings.
Cecily rolled her eyes. "I called you clever, child. Do not insult me by not assuming the same of me. My son is going to come to you," she said icily through gritted teeth. "As soon as he possibly can. I am certain you are already aware of this."
Grace said nothing, standing still as she stared at the duchess. She didn't know what to say. All she could assume was that Adam had already confronted his mother. Was this Cecily confirming her role in their separation?
"When he does, you are to send him away, once and for all," Cecily said firmly. "I have gifted you a blessing, child. You have a position among my senior household, and a generous income for someone of your age and station. I hope you understand, it would be far easier for me to have you sent away, but I will not." She muttered something under her breath that sounds like, knowing my son, he would only chase you.
Grace was frozen. What exactly did the duchess want her to tell him? To be cruel to him? To sever what kindness that had been restored to them?
"I cannot be cruel to him," she whispered.
Cecily merely smirked. "If you do not, I will have him disinherited," she threatened. "I will turn him out and he will have nothing. I have another son, you realise."
Grace gasped. What? Surely, she would not do such a thing to her own son. Surely disinheriting Adam was impossible!
"Why do you hate me so much that you would do such a thing to your own son?" Grace asked her, the words escaping her mouth before she could coherently understand what she was saying.
It was Cecily turn to freeze as she glared at Grace, for a split second, exposing a deeper level of emotion than her usual cool expression. There was more to the duchess than met the eye, and Grace couldn't understand why her disdain ran so deeply.
"My dear," she growled, "whether you understand or not, everything I do is to ensure my son's future. He in engaged to a woman equal to him in position and wealth. She is also young enough to believe herself in love." She exhaled sharply. "You are to attend Lady Sarah for the duration of her stay. You will attend to her every whim. Should you prove loyal and successful in this position, upon my son's marriage to Lady Sarah, your assistance will then go to Lady Susanna." Cecily sighed. "I don't care what you say to him, Grace," she said, continuing their previous line of conversation. "I trust that with your clever head, you will choose your family's survival over any chance of a future you might possibly believe you have with my son."
Grace swallowed loudly, finding her tongue. "I am my father's eldest child, Your Grace. I will always put my family first. It is my responsibility. I had already made the decision to put my past with Adam ... Lord Beresford ... behind me. You did not need to make any threats. You do not need to take anything away from him. I understand that he is engaged. I understand that Lady Sarah is far above me, and therefore far better than me in your eyes." Grace willed herself not to stutter. "Lord Beresford was my friend before any of this, and I do deeply care about his welfare. I respectfully ask you not to threaten him, or his birthright. I will not be responsible for that."
Cecily seemed to be surprised to hear such a speech from Grace. "I suppose you are cleverer than I thought," she noted. "If only my son could possess a little of your logic, Grace. Nevertheless, he will come to you. What will you say to him?"
Grace wasn't certain of what Adam would say to her when he did come. Cecily seemed to be acting pre-emptively. There was certainly not anything he could do anyway, was there? He was a man of honour, and he had asked Sarah to marry him. Grace would return his ring. That was all she could be certain of.
"I don't know," she replied honestly. "But I will not be cruel."
"Well," remarked Cecily. "This was certainly not the conversation I had expected from you. I had imagined a silly village girl filled with lust." She shook her head. "Regardless, I am a woman of my word. You will commence your new position tomorrow. Your income should certainly support your poor mother during her convalescence." She smiled briefly. "I am glad we had this chat, Grace. I believe we have a certain understanding."