Saving Grace (20 page)

“No harm meant,” he said, grasping the top of the fence with his free hand and trying to right himself.

Grace widened her eyes at the familiar voice. She stepped closer again and looked up at the face that went with it. “Mr. Preston?”

His smile was the same as she remembered from the brief time at his ball and the many times he’d been in her dreams since.

“Whatever are you doing?” she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her.

“Attempting, somewhat clumsily, I admit, to lay this coat across your shoulders so you do not catch another chill.” He held the garment out to her, and Grace stepped forward to take it.

“Thank you.”

“I hear you have been quite unwell,” Mr. Preston said. “I cannot think that being out in the cold without a proper wrap is a good idea.”

“I am better now.” Grace pushed her arms through the overlarge sleeves and felt immediate warmth. “You have given me
your
coat,” she said, looking up at him, coatless and still perched on the wall, this time more casually now that he’d regained his balance and was relieved of his burden.

“It looks far better on you.” He grinned down at her.

“Will you lend me your hand as well?” Grace asked, holding hers out to him.

Mr. Preston looked surprised but took her outstretched hand in his. Grace held on for support as she put one foot and then the other upon the bench and stood facing him. “There. That is better.”

Mr. Preston did not immediately release her but looked at her a long moment — not as Lord Sutherland had, as if appraising an item he had purchased — but in a most concerned and caring sort of way.

“You have been unwell in more ways than one,” Mr. Preston observed.

Reluctantly, Grace withdrew her hand and tucked it into the warm pocket of his coat. With the material pulled tight around her, she relished its comfort and felt warmed by it in more ways than one. “I am fair enough,” she answered.

“
That
is easy for anyone to see,” Mr. Preston said, a teasing glimmer in his eye. “But I heard you crying. You are unhappy.”

Grace nodded, then looked down, lest he spy the tears gathering in her eyes again. “Only today did I discover how dire my circumstances are.” Her voice shook. “I am betrothed to Lord Sutherland.”

“This does not please you?” Mr. Preston asked.

Grace shook her head. “Nor does it please him.”

“Has he hurt you in any way?” Mr. Preston asked. He reached across the wall, touching her shoulder lightly.

Grace lifted her face to his. “No.” She managed a tremulous smile. “He is rather fearsome to look at, but so far his bark only alarms.”

“He’d best not bite you,” Mr. Preston growled, with less than his usual good humor. “I must confess that I am aware of your situation.”

“As I have just described,” Grace said, nonplussed that he considered the need to admit the very thing she had just told him.

“Beyond that,” Mr. Preston explained, “when Lord Sutherland took you from my house, your servants were left behind. Before releasing them, I interviewed each most thoroughly and am in full knowledge of the plan the three of you devised before coming to my home.”

Grace hung her head, ashamed for the second time that day by her rash and foolish idea and the disaster that had ensued. “I am sorry.”
More so than you can imagine.

“As am I,” Mr. Preston said. “I’d every intention of courting you, Miss Thatcher. And now that seems to be impossible.”

“I thank you for the compliment,” Grace said. “I wish — I had not acted so rashly. Please understand that I had no reason to believe you any different from the other men my father had arranged for me to meet. I was desperate to escape a marriage to any of them — to anyone.” She dared look at him again and saw only understanding in his gaze. How much easier it was to explain her reasons to Mr. Preston. If only Lord Sutherland would have let her get a word in edgewise, she might have told him as much as well.

“And now you find yourself betrothed to the worst of them all,” Mr. Preston said, a knowing look in his eye.

“So it would seem.” Grace sighed heavily.

“Take heart,” he said. “Things are not
always what they appear to be. Lord Sutherland may not be as terrible as you imagine.”

“It is not mere imagination,” Grace said. “I’ve witnessed his wrath firsthand. He despises me and feels I have deliberately trapped him. He even accused me of scheming with you.”

“Then you shall have to convince him otherwise.”

“How?” Grace asked.

Mr. Preston looked at her peculiarly, as if truly considering her question. “To begin with — and please do not take this incorrectly — it might behoove you to look your best when around him. You are lovely right now, with your tear-stained face and wearing my atrociously large coat. But around Nicholas — Lord Sutherland — I would suggest taking pains with your appearance. Many a fair lady has won over her man with beauty.”

“I’ve no wish to win him over,” Grace muttered.

Mr. Preston smiled. “Then I predict that you and Nicholas will yet have many a battle.”

“You are on a first name basis with His Lordship?” Grace asked, thinking more on that than his advice.

It was Mr. Preston’s turn to sigh. “In the past, yes. Nicholas is — was — my brother-in-law. His sister was my wife.”

Grace stared at him. “You were married?” An inane question when he’d just told her as much, but she hadn’t imagined him married. He hadn’t mentioned it at the ball, and if he’d wanted to court her, he had to be in want of a wife. She’d never considered that he might have had one before.

“Elizabeth died three years ago.” The sorrow in Mr. Preston’s eyes deepened, and he looked beyond Grace, toward some point in the past that she was not privy to. “Elizabeth was Lord Sutherland’s younger sister, and their family was very close. After her death, her father became ill and never recovered. I’ve heard it said he died of a broken heart.”

“I am so terribly sorry.” Grace fought the impulse to reach out a comforting hand. “I had no idea ...”

Mr. Preston smiled, though this time there was a hint of sadness instead of merriment in his eyes. “It would seem that you, too, are acquainted with the sting of death. In talking with your servants, I discovered that you’ve lost not only your grandfather, but your mother, as well.”

“I was very young when she died,” Grace said. “In truth, I almost think Grandfather’s passing hurt more — or perhaps it is just that his death is fresher in memory.”

“‘As time him hurts, time doth him cure,’” Mr. Preston quoted.

“Chaucer.” Her face brightened. “Dare I hope that you are a lover of poetry, Mr. Preston?”

“Samuel,” he said. “If we are to be friends — and I hope we are — then you must call me by my Christian name. And yes, I enjoy poetry. Elizabeth did as well. We spent many an hour in this garden reading poetry together.”

The same sense of hope she’d felt at Mr. Preston’s ball filled Grace now. Had she not wished for a friend an hour ago? And here she’d been given her very heart’s desire.

Almost.
Her true desire would have been to go back in time and undo her horrible mistake and thereby be free to be courted by Mr. Preston — by Samuel.

“You may call me Grace.”

Their exchange of given names felt intimate. A niggling of guilt struck somewhere deep in her mind. She wasn’t about to call Lord Sutherland by his Christian name, and she had no desire for him to know hers. Yet it was to him she was promised.

But there is no law against friendship
, she argued with her conscience. There was no reason she could not have a conversation with another man. She and Samuel were not technically even on the same property.

He was watching her now, a curious look on his face as if he knew the gamut of her thoughts. “I assure you, we will be proper. I vow to stay on my side of the fence. If Nicholas were to discover me on his property, he might be pushed beyond the promise he gave his sister not to murder me.”

“I am fairly certain he would shoot me first,” Grace said. “I could see that he wanted to, when we spoke earlier.”

Instead of seeming concerned, Samuel chuckled. “No doubt he will want to do so a time or two more before the two of you are finished being at odds with each other. Do not worry over it. If Nicholas Sutherland is one thing, it is a gentleman — one who is careful with his possessions. Now that you are well and truly in his care, he will not harm you.”

“I do not wish to be a possession.” Grace frowned.

“I should hope not,” Samuel said. “Which is why you must make an effort with him.”

Grace gave him a wry smile. “And I am to rely upon my beauty in that endeavor.”

“I would not suggest it,” Samuel said. “I merely mentioned it as a place to start. You might try talking to Nicholas as you are talking with me.”

“Impossible,” Grace said. “I attempted as much earlier, and everything I said he took wrong, and he would not let me explain myself. My words and intent were so twisted as to convince me that there is no hope of gaining his respect or understanding.”

“There is always hope,” Samuel said. He caught her eye, and the look he gave her filled her once again — with hope, and with longing.
For something I cannot have.

“I never thought to marry,” Grace said. “And so I have not devoted any time at all to the art of capturing a man’s attention. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do.”

“No art is required,” Mr. Preston assured. “Simply be yourself. There is no chance of success if you cannot be who you truly are. That was what attracted me to Elizabeth. She was vivacious and full of joy. She did not particularly care what others thought of her. So much so that she took a chance on me.”

“As would any sensible young lady,” Grace said.

Preston shook his head. “Not so. You forget that I have no title. And money without a title is viewed by most as sorely lacking.”

“Poor Lord Sutherland,” Grace said, without a trace of sympathy in her voice. “I have neither title nor money, and here he is stuck with me.”

“So it would seem,” Samuel said with a wry grin. “That I should have been so fortunate.”

And I,
Grace thought dismally. “What a strange and honest conversation we are having Mr. Preston — Samuel.”

“There is nothing wrong with admitting what one has wanted but cannot have. Nor do I see it as wrong to accept what is possible in its place instead. We shall be friends, then?” He stuck out his hand as if to strike a bargain.

“We were friends already, from the moment of our first meeting.” Grace shook his hand, then pulled hers away quickly. The warmth his offered was tempting in too many ways. “I should go.” She glanced at the sky, which was darker now than when they had begun talking.

“You should,” Samuel agreed. “Were Nicholas to discover you here, it would not go well for either of us.”

“May I beg a favor of you?” Grace asked. He was kindness in every sense of the word, and furthermore, she felt she could trust him.

“Anything,” Samuel said.

“I must get a letter to my siblings and to Miranda and Harrison,” Grace explained. “But I fear attempting to send any from Lord Sutherland’s home. His servants are not amiable, and he is already highly suspicious of me.”

“Can you bring your letters here tomorrow?” Samuel asked.

“I think so,” Grace said. “I shall do my best to come at about this same time — when my new maid goes downstairs to take tea with the other servants.”

“Until tomorrow, then,” Samuel said, smiling at her in a way that not only warmed her but made her troubles seem surmountable.

Grace shrugged out of his coat and handed it to him.

“Come if you can,” Samuel said. “You need only sit on that same bench, and I will find you.”

Grace accepted his hand as she stepped down.

“Remember what I said,” he urged as she turned to go. “You will have to put forth some effort to get past Lord Sutherland’s gruff side.”

“Has he another side?” Grace quipped. “I hadn’t noticed. All I know about the man is that he is surly and quick to judge.”

“Perhaps you are the one being quick to judge,” Samuel suggested.

His words stung. Grace looked up at him in surprise. “You don’t know what he said to me.”

“And you do not know the measure of his sorrow.” Samuel’s words were gentle, as if to soften the rebuke. “All that I am saying is consider thinking of him less harshly. Not everyone handles their losses as well as you and I have. For Nicholas, they have been devastating, and he has yet to recover.”

“How have you recovered?” Grace asked. “From losing your wife?”

“I loved Elizabeth dearly,” Samuel said. “I still do. But life must and will continue, with or without my participation in it. And I know Elizabeth would very much wish the former.”

“Nicholas — Lord Sutherland — does not feel the same?” Grace asked, striving to understand. She really didn’t want to be at odds with the man. Their earlier exchange had been agonizing. Not only did she suffer from his rebukes, but she felt guilty over her own behavior as well. It was not in her character to use biting words and demands.

“He is still grieving,” Samuel said. “Time has not healed for him but has stood still, and the pain has become worse every day, until he is raw from its constancy.”

“But why?” Grace asked. “What is so different —”

“That is for you to discover,” Samuel said with that same melancholy smile half curving his lips as it had when he’d first spoken of his wife. “Perhaps you will be the one to lift him from it.”

His words distressed her. She didn’t need the burden of another to care for and worry over. She’d spent her life in that pursuit.
And look where it has landed me.

“Hurry now,” Samuel admonished. “If I don’t see you tomorrow, I may worry that I kept you out here too long and that you’ve become ill again. I’d be tempted to test Lord Sutherland’s patience by checking in on you.”

“Don’t worry,” Grace called. “I’ll be fine.” She willed the words to ring as true in her heart as in her head as she retraced her steps down the path.

I will be fine.

She did not know exactly how or when it would happen, but she took comfort in Samuel’s words. They warmed her as much as his coat had, and with newfound courage, she made her way back to Sutherland Hall.