Saving Grace (37 page)

“Good night, Lord Sutherland,” Grace said, shutting her heart against his wounded look at her use of his title. He might have given her permission to be informal, but as of tonight, she had revoked that privilege.

And all others that would only make it easier for me to love him.

Nicholas sat at the table, unfolded his napkin, and placed it in his lap. He waited until breakfast had been served and both Grace and his mother had begun eating before making his announcement. “I have decided to host a Christmas ball.”

His mother choked, and her hand flew to her mouth as she struggled with the drink she’d just taken. Grace’s spoon went limp in her hand. Each woman turned to stare at him, her expression aggrieved. His mother’s mouth puckered as if she’d just had a tooth pulled.

“What?” he asked calmly as he spooned marmalade on his toast. “Aren’t women supposed to like balls? You both look as if I’ve grown a second head.”

“I think you must have,” his mother said. “And it is he that is speaking. The Nicholas I know would never suggest such a thing.”

“And why not?” he asked. “Are we not approaching Christmastide, the season of goodwill and sharing? What better way to share than to invite our neighbors for a party?”

“Will the invitation include
all
of your neighbors, milord?”
Grace asked demurely. She lifted her cup of chocolate, looking at him over the rim.

He read challenge in her eyes. His immediate instinct was to reply that, no, Preston would not be invited.
I’d sooner see him dead than in this house, near you.
But Nicholas held his tongue, considering carefully.

Grace no longer trusted him; that much had become painfully obvious when she’d rejected his advances on the stairs the previous night. He couldn’t blame her, especially given her background and the lack of trustworthiness she’d seen in men like her father.

But along with that distrust, he’d seen a flicker of longing in the depths of her beautiful eyes. She had been a willing participant in their first kiss yesterday. She’d confessed to caring for him and had said words that led him to believe she might also be grappling with the attraction between them. And while at first that had seemed a terrible thing, his opinion on that matter had recently changed.

I want Grace for much more than a means of revenge upon Preston. I care for her.

It had taken several hours of soul-searching to come to that conclusion. He had wrestled with the problem before dinner, then proven the coward once again by letting his mother run roughshod over Grace during the meal. He’d thought it over as he stood by the fire last night, doing his best not to look at Grace, not to care that her heart was damaged, not to admire her fortitude in standing up to his mother time and again.

And then it had been too much. His mother’s comment about Grace’s hands had finally awakened him to a terribly belated sense of right and wrong. He could no longer tolerate the way his mother treated her. The Grace he’d come to know — the girl who’d grown up washing others’ clothes to feed her siblings, the woman compassionate enough to help a worried farmer — had more dignity and
grace
than most gently bred women. She’d risen above her circumstances.

But has not stooped to acting as low as we have in ours.

It was high time he stood up for her, time he stopped looking for a way to be rid of her and invested his energies into figuring out how to keep her.

It will take more than a few words before a priest.
He wanted their relationship to be more than that — more than what had been forced upon them.
I want her to desire to be with me, as much as I desire to be with her.

The greatest of the ironies was that he had to allow her to be with Preston if he had any hope of winning her hand. It was not lost on Nicholas that he’d treated Preston with the same disdain his mother had used with Grace, as if she were decidedly less a human because her father was not noble.

Did I ever give Preston a chance to prove himself — on merits of character alone — worthy of Elizabeth?
Nicholas knew he had not. And he couldn’t do so now after what Preston had done, after his lack of judgment that had proved fatal to Elizabeth.

But are we all not lacking in judgment at times?
Nicholas knew he had been, for most of the last two years.
But what Preston did is unforgiveable — isn’t it?

“I seem to have rendered you speechless,” Grace said. “Apparently you have not yet considered the guest list at great length.”

“He has not considered anything,” Lady Sutherland said. “Christmas is but three weeks away. One cannot arrange a ball on such short notice.”

“Two weeks and six days, to be exact,” Nicholas said. “I would like the ball to be held on Christmas Eve.” He turned to Grace. “And I have considered the guest list.
All
of our neighbors will be invited. Whether they attend shall be up to them.”

Up to
him
. And if Preston has any sense at all, he will find something else to do that evening.

If Grace was surprised by this — or pleased — she hid it well, giving him the barest nod before returning her attention to her meal.

“You cannot be serious,” his mother said. “The house is in no condition to have guests, and we haven’t the staff to get it ready. Food will have to be ordered, an orchestra arranged. We’ll have to get a dressmaker out from London; I didn’t bring any of my formal gowns with me. And it’s doubtful that she” — Lady Sutherland threw a disparaging look a Grace — “has anything proper to wear. Have you even looked at the ballroom floor in the last two years? What if it is no longer fit for dancing?”

“I am surprised at you, Mother,” Nicholas said, wondering at the real reason she was protesting. “You have always been one to rise to any occasion of entertaining. I expected no less of you now. But if you’re not able …” His gaze slid to Grace. “I shall ask Miss Thatcher to take charge of preparations. It will be good experience for her, as she will one day be mistress here.”

His mother looked as if he had slapped her, and Nicholas felt a twinge of remorse at baiting her so. Perhaps he had gone too far; he needed her help if he was to pull this off. Men did not plan balls or parties; they funded and attended them with some reluctance on both parts. He wasn’t at all certain Grace was up to the task, based on the slightly panicked look she’d just given him.

Nicholas could tell that his mother was torn between the temptation of foisting the responsibility onto Grace and sitting back to watch the ensuing disaster, or taking over the planning herself to save face and preserve what was left of the Sutherland reputation. When she stood suddenly and threw her napkin upon the table, he knew both that she had made her decision and which path she had chosen.

“I shall do it.” Her eyes fixed upon Nicholas. “Meet me in your study at one o’clock. I will have a list of expenses and errands for you.” She turned her attention on Grace. “I will meet you in your room at three o’clock to discuss what is to be done about finding something suitable for you to wear. If our neighbors are to come, we must ensure that you are not garbed in some berry-picking attire or other atrocity.”

“Speaking of berries, Mother,” Nicholas said, “did you ever thank Grace for the pie?” He casually leaned back in his chair.

“I —” Her mouth opened and closed in a fishlike manner. “No,” she admitted, lips pressed into a smooth line of displeasure.

“Nor did I,” Nicholas admitted. “A rather significant breach of etiquette on our part, don’t you think?” His mother could only nod. Nicholas smiled at Grace, who looked stiff and uncomfortable in her chair. “It was the most delicious pie I have ever eaten,” he said. “I thank you for going to the trouble of picking berries and making a pie for us.”

“You’re welcome,” Grace said. Her eyes flitted about, as if expecting something to pop out at her, as if she were the center of a cruel jest.

Try kindness,
she had suggested.
Was that only yesterday
? Nicholas hated that he had used so little kindness with her that she mistrusted it.

He cleared his throat and lifted a brow at his mother.

“Thank you,” she mumbled.

“You are most welcome,” Grace returned without a trace of malice in her voice.

With that fragile truce, Nicholas thought it best they all depart one another’s company. Mother left to get started on one of many lists for the ball, and he took himself to his study to arrange the ledgers so they would be in readiness for all the expenses he would soon be incurring. Only Grace lingered at the table, with a curious look on her face Nicholas found to be promising.

For once, it seemed, it was he who had thrown her off balance.

Grace removed the ivory gown from her wardrobe and laid it across the bed. “Please do not criticize it,” she said, by way of warning Nicholas’s mother, who stood in the doorway
.
“This gown and the pearls that go with it were the last gifts my grandfather gave me before he fell ill. I shall always cherish them.”

“Your grandfather had exquisite taste,” Lady Sutherland said, coming to stand near the bed. As she looked over the gown, her eyes flashed approval. “When and where have you worn this?”

“Once in London during the little season. And again at Mr. Preston’s ball in September.”

Lady Sutherland’s face fell. “You’ll need to have another made, then. You cannot wear the same gown to a party where the guests will likely remember you from last time.”

Grace started to argue that she doubted anyone would recognize her, but then she remembered the scandal and ensuing scene that had taken place at Samuel’s ball.
The neighbors will most assuredly remember me no matter what I wear,
she thought with no little amount of distress.

“What do you suggest?” Grace asked the dowager, deciding to place her trust in the older woman’s hands. Not only would she know much more about the latest fashions, but she also had a vested interest in everything and everyone associated with her.

She’ll help me look the best I can — even if she doesn’t want to.

Lady Sutherland stood back, studying Grace critically. “Perhaps something green to bring out the color your eyes, make them look less muddy.” She brought a hand to her chin. “But should it be emerald or a shade or two paler?”

Muddy?
Grace shrugged and held her tongue. “Whichever you think best.”

“You don’t care?” Lady Sutherland asked.

“Not really.”
I would like to look nice for Nicholas — but I
shouldn’t
want that.

“You do realize why Nicholas is having this ball, don’t you?” Lady Sutherland came closer, and Grace had to steel herself against backing away.

She shook her head. “I don’t. Truly.”

“It is for
you
,” Lady Sutherland said, pointing her finger at Grace’s chest. “He thinks that by hosting a ball and presenting you to our neighbors and acquaintances, they will accept you.”

“Oh.”
Oh dear. Oh no.
“Do you think it will succeed?” Grace asked in a small voice.
Do I want it to?

Lady Sutherland’s look turned shrewd and appraising. “It will be difficult. You have everything against you, of course — the scandal, your shameful upbringing.”

Grace raised her chin. “We both know I have done nothing inappropriate. I have nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed by, excepting the actions of my father.”

“If you think what really happened matters more than what people believe to have occurred, then you are even more foolish than I thought,” Lady Sutherland said.

“Truth is never foolish,” Grace said.
It will set you free.

It
had
set her free. Because of her honesty, Grandfather had found them. She well remembered that day, facing the stranger at their door and answering his questions honestly even when she feared he was a collector come to throw them all in debtor’s prison. Instead he had whisked her and Helen and Christopher away to paradise.

“Aside from the matter of your disgrace, there are other obstacles. Your father is an impoverished gambler, and your mother had been disowned when she died. Your face is common, your manner lacking —”