Page 54 of The Mistletoe Countess
“And if you did care”—she stood and took the cane Brandon offered—“you would learn to keep your conversations safely between two topics—the weather and the state of our gardens. I fear that anything else you offer will cause Frederick more social harm at having such a silly wife than the remote possibility of doing him any good from yourproposedcreativity. You were an undesirable solution to a most unfortunate turn of events.”
Heat slipped from Grace’s face at the mixture of truth and barb in the woman’s accusation.
Lady Moriah’s cane beat against the glossy floors as she took her leave.
“Mother,” Frederick said from the doorway.
“You’ve married a simpleton,” she murmured in passing. “We’ll be the laughingstocks of the county.”
“That’s quite enough.”
His reprimand bounced off Lady Moriah’s glare, and with scowl firmly fitted to every crinkle in her face, she left the room.
Grace’s insides quivered almost uncontrollably, but she tempered her expression with a greeting smile. “The Bible says ‘a merry heart is good like a medicine.’” Her gaze shifted to her plate. “But perhaps I cast too much sunshine in places where it is unwanted.”
He rounded the table and took a chair near her. “I don’t know if there is medicine strong enough to cheer her heart.”
Grace refused the negative turn of her thoughts, holding back a sudden rush of tears for Frederick’s sake. He’d had so much hurt, she couldn’t bear to add her sadness to his brimming cup. “There’s another verse that seems apt to the moment.”
His smile crooked in question.
“‘All the days of the afflicted are evil: but he that is of a merry heart hath a continual feast.’”
He studied her and quite surprisingly took her hand. “I apologize for my tardiness. The venture in town took much longer than anticipated, and I still did not complete my task.”
She stifled a whimper. “You’ll be gone again tomorrow?”
“Only for the morning, and I’ll make certain breakfast is served in your room to keep you out of Mother’s claws. She has a great deal of helpful guidance about how to prepare you as an aristocratic lady, but her methods are not the best, so I will employ the help of my sister, Eleanor. I saw her in town, and she’s anxious to meet you.”
What if Grace failed with Eleanor too? She had found a book in the library titledBeadle’s Book of Etiquette for Ladies and Gentlemen,but it was from the mid-1800s, so she wasn’t sure how much stock to put in the advice. She’d flipped openA Book of Edwardian Etiquetteand felt much better after reading, “The test of good manners is to be able to put up pleasantly with bad ones.”
“Mrs. Powell has been instructed to meet with you each morning as you take over household responsibilities. Blake will be with us for dinner tomorrow evening, so she will certainly want to know how to prepare for our guest.”
Grace pushed aside her worry and turned her attention to her new responsibilities. She pelted Frederick with questions about guest rooms, servants’ names, previous meals, and Mrs. Powell’s personality, to which Frederick had very little to add to Grace’s initial assessment. It was shocking how men didn’t know the answers to simple questions like when a person’s birthday was or their favorite flower. Those questions seemed fairly elementary.
And Frederick had no news to add to the information about the crashed automobile. The inspector took notes, but the mechanic had not come to any conclusions yet. Clearly the men in town could use some help with this investigation, but Grace felt fairly certain the etiquette book would not support her dashing to town to unearth her own answers.
The dowager’s assessment stung afresh. Maybe Frederick Percy really had married the wrong bride after all, and maybe that was why he hadn’t taken Grace with him to town. Perhaps she really would be alone in this new world.
“You’ve left her alone for two days with yourmother?”
Already Blake’s directness had hit on points Frederick hadn’t considered. “For an impeccable reason, as I told you.”
“But she’s a stranger here. Perhaps you should’ve taken her with you.”
“To study bathtubs and toilets?”
“Tobewith you, Freddie. From my brief acquaintance with your dear wife, I’d say she could become interested in about anything without any motivation whatsoever.”
Frederick stared at Blake and pinched his lips into a frown, diverting his attention to the car window and the passing countryside. Perhaps he should have left Blake at the train station to find his own way to Havensbrooke.
“Imagine it from her point of view. You’re the only person she really knows in the whole of England, and her head is filled with fanciful notions of you sweeping her off to some castle forever. Then she arrives instead to find a dark, gloomy estate in disrepair, an evil dowager mother, and a houseful of doleful servants, with no friend in the world as her companion. I expected more from your tender heart.”
“My tender heart, as you call it, was working feverishly on keeping my wife from the discomfort of walking about the hallways in her unmentionables.”
“Yes, right. Those particular pleasures are reserved for her charming yet absent husband.”
Frederick looked away. “Hmm.”
