Page 24 of Married By Twelfth Night
“I was once in your place. Courting Mrs. Steele was an adventure.”
“I am not against adventures, but there are other matters . . .” his voice trailed off.
Mr. Steele nodded. “I know you are uneasy about your estate. I cannot profess to know all the particulars, but it is admirable how you have reached out to the land owners around you and sought their advice. I have no doubt you will have this place turned around in no time at all.”
Richard had come to him several times seeking guidance and instruction on running an estate, and his advice had been a godsend. But saving his estate was nothing hard work could change. He needed a miracle. He needed Aunt’s money.
Mr. Steele pushed back his chair. “Come, let’s not keep the ladies waiting any longer.” The knowing look he gave Richard sent a wave of nausea through him.
Richard stood and obediently followed. Even though he had walked this short path between rooms a million times over, never had his feet dragged so. What sort of trap had he set for himself?
Chapter 10
Grace had accomplished whatshe had set out to do, but never had one of her successes left so many conflicting feelings. It had been three days since the dinner party, and her parents had been impossible to live with. Father kept sending her pleased looks and telling her how proud he was of her. Mama had found ways to slide the topic of weddings into every other conversation. Tuesday morning, she was in a particularly expressive mood. She was sure to mention her opinion of the best wedding dates, where to shop for fine but affordable wedding clothes, and an exhaustive menu of what to serve at wedding breakfasts.
The anxiety in Grace’s middle soared toward her chest until every muscle strung tight. Mama’s discussion of items to add to Grace’s trousseau snapped her barely held patience. Grace set down her teacup with a clatter that seemed to rattle the entire drawing room. Ruth and Mama looked up expectedly at her from their needlework. Grace’s own sewing was a complete mess. Every knot she had made in her embroidery had to be pulled out and fixed.
With no explanation for her shamble of nerves, she hurriedly faced the door. “I . . . I wonder why Mr. Dobson does not come to visit.”
She swallowed back stomach bile. It had come to this. She would rather discuss the safe but dreadfully boring topic of buttons than plan a fictitious wedding to Richard Graham.
“I don’t believe we will see much of Mr. Dobson in the future,” Ruth said, her eyes dancing.
Grace frowned. “What do you mean?” She needed Mr. Dobson. No one else could lull her mind into such emptiness as he did. There was not a chance of any guilt or anxiety outside of ridding herself of him. How had she not appreciated how useful that man had been?
Ruth picked a thread from her gown. “Bridget told me at the party.”
“Told you what?” Mama asked, leaning forward.
Grace instinctively did the same.
“Do you recall last Wednesday when both Mr. Graham and Mr. Dobson visited us?”
“Yes, I remember.”
“Bridget was walking to our house when she stumbled upon them.”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t understand. We never had a visit from her that day.”
“That is because after hearing the men’s private conversation, she returned home so as not to be caught by her brother. You see, Mr. Graham told Mr. Dobson that there was mutual affection between himself and you and that Mr. Dobson ought to cry off before he was wounded by the situation.”
Grace gasped. “He didn’t!”
Ruth grinned. Never had her sister been so happy to discuss gossip before. “It was better than any novel I have ever read. I do believe Mr. Graham is smitten by you.”
“I knew it!” Mama cried, clapping her hands.
“Bridget must have misheard.” Grace shook her head fervently. “Ruth, you must know, I have heard him speak well ofyou. So, you see, he is confused and does not know his own mind.”
“Then you must unconfuse him,” Ruth said. “I have told you before; I am not his equal in personality.”
Grace groaned, slouching back into the sofa. She was supposed to be pretending to like the man, but in a little more than a week’s time, they had skipped from courtship to wedding planning. Just yesterday, she had made a detailed list of places to visit in London to help maintain her focus on the prize, but at the moment, not one of those places seemed worth this much trouble.
“Sit up,” Mama said. “This is nothing to pout about. It’s something to celebrate.”
Celebrate? Grace whipped her head up. “Mama, you cannot make any insinuations. There is no understanding between us. All this wedding talk must cease.” She wasn’t about to engage herself to Richard Graham for the name of a favor.Thatwas going too far.
Mr. Reed stuck his head in the door. “Pardon me, but Mr. Graham is here to pay a call.”
