Authors: Penny Richards
He started to turn away, but she kept hold of his hands. “I know you truly love Grace. And
you
have been different. I do not know if I can say happier, because you always play your tricks and I never know when you are completely serious. But you seemed more content, especially when Grace was at your side. She
changed
you. And I know she loves you. I could see it often in her eyes as she watched you.”
He squeezed her hands and smiled his true smile down at her, though it did not banish the sadness he felt. “I fear we could not love each other as much as you think, Maggie, because we have not been able to solve our problem. Do not worry over me. You go home to that Irish husband of yours and enjoy your own love.”
He did not add that he knew he didn't deserve Grace. God would not condone her marriage to a rake...even an ex-rake. He never knew if it was God that made her different than any other woman he had known or if her managing, stubborn, self-reliant personality was to blame. But he loved her just the same, and realized she would laugh with him if she knew his thoughts.
Lord Hendricks was a little more forthright when he came. “What happened, Brandon? I have never seen you so happy as when you were with Lady Grace.”
For a quick moment Brandon thought about the promise Lydia had made to tell no one of their secret, and he was impressed that she had been able to keep that difficult promise for them, especially from her intended.
“Dennis,” Brandon began, attempting to rein in his temper, “it is a long story.” He was trying to remember that Dennis was truly his friend and only asking out of worry for him. “Our differences
seem
irreconcilable to us. I just don't have answers now.”
Lord Langdon never mentioned the broken engagement at all. Perhaps he knew that the others hounded Brandon, and he wanted to give him some space. But Brandon could certainly have used his advice.
And Grace? She had never even acknowledged his message sent by way of Max. But she had not returned the emeralds, either. He wanted to believe she was waiting until she came back to London for Lydia's wedding, that she would tell him he
could
be her Max, but it was too hard to anticipate a reconciliation.
The rest of London had watched him closely and had been speculating about the pair. Most thought he would return to Lady Winslow. They knew he was never without female companionship for long. But she had left Town, so they watched, wondering who would be next. And Brandon did not disappoint. He threw himself into the Season with abandon. He made an appearance at most social events and flirted with some, danced with others, all without ever singling out one particular lady.
It had become the only way he thought he could get Grace off his mind. It failed miserably.
After a week of his old way of life he realized that Maggie had been right. Grace
had
changed him. He got no pleasure from his idle, wastrel activities of the past. As soon as Dennis's wedding was over, he would throw himself into getting Brownlow sent to Newgate, and the orphanage habitable. Or he would go to Westmoreland and rusticate for a few months; he would meet with his estate manager. He would be the man he should have been long ago.
But he had to remain in Town another week, and the anticipation was building. He was Dennis's best man and Grace was Lydia's attendant. He knew Grace had offered to withdraw from the honor, as had he. This wedding needed to be all about Lydia and Dennis. But neither Lord Hendricks nor Lady Lydia would allow it. So he waited for the wedding day and the disruption he and Grace would cause.
Chapter Eighteen
W
hen Max had been firmly established at the bottom of the staircase at the Abbey, Grace had written a letter to Lydia asking if she was completely sure she still wanted her to come to the wedding. Grace
wanted
to be there,
needed
to be there, and she had been seeking God's will to determine what she must do regarding Brandon. But she would not have Lydia's wedding become a circus to the shallow, gossiping
ton.
Not at any cost.
So she waited to hear from her sister before she made any plans. Grace had received Lydia's letter with misgiving.
Dearest Grace,
It matters not one whit to me that the
ton
may cause a scene or pay more attention to you and Lord Weston than to Dennis and me. You know the only reason we are even having the wedding in London is because Father and Dennis are both peers. It seems silly to me, but have no fear. I will have eyes only for him, so nothing that happens around me can change that. But I cannot do it without my beloved sister and best of friends with me.
All my love,
Lydia
So two weeks later, Grace returned to London. She hated missing the preparations and planning with Aunt Aggie and Lydia during those weeks, but thought it best not to be in Town while gossip was rampant. She worked hours on end at the estate, trying to keep her mind off of Brandon, and went to bed each night and tried not to dream of him. But she could not stop thinking about her scheme to get some real answers from him. It would be the most outlandish thing she had ever done, even more so than pretending to be betrothed to him!
She came back to London with a new resolve and a new prayer.
Brandon's actions with Max had spoken volumes to her; perhaps it
was
the answer to those prayers. But she had seen him kissing Lady Winslow that night. The note that came with Max intimated that he wanted to pursue their relationship. But he had often flirted with her thus. If Lady Winslow was out of the picture, he could have easily moved on to another by now. She was confused, but she would wait for God's indication of finality before she gave up all hope.
She feared her plan might make matters worse rather than grant the hope that still remained, but she would not let this chance of real love, at least on her part, slip away.
* * *
She and Lydia were happy to be reunited. Aunt Aggie got right to the point. “Well, young lady,” she said to Grace when they were all settled in the drawing room, “you have created the
on
dit
of the Season, and I did not expect it of you!” She did not even stop for air. “You are looking quite pale, my dear. Have you been overdoing it in the country?”
She knew she was not looking her best. It was hard to do so with little sleep. “I
am
sorry, Aunt Aggie, for all of the trouble I've caused. I know I should have told you of my plans before I left. But the trip home was the only solution I could see at the time. I am sure you would have been very uncomfortable as Brandon and I tried to avoid each other. I really needed that time to pray and think, and now I would prefer discussing Lydia and the wedding.”
Lydia was only too happy to change the subject. She was even more beautiful, if that were possible. “Grace, I am so happy. We are having the wedding breakfast here afterward, then Dennis and I will leave for Greece for a month! I will be so happy to be alone with him, but I am a little afraid.” She grabbed Grace's hands. “You must tell me everything you know about Greece so he will not think me the biggest goose.”
“Lydia, that all sounds so wonderful. Do not worry about Greece. You will love the beauty of it and you will learn about it while you are there.” She felt it might be better to turn her sister's thoughts to other things. “May we go up and see your dress? I did not get to attend the final fitting.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent in packing what Lydia would need on her honeymoon and last-minute arrangements. The lowest point came when they were going in for dinner and Aunt Aggie commented offhandedly, “I will never get used to that silly suit of armor being gone. It was intimidating to visitors, and I truly thought it rather hideous, but now I miss it! Why did you want it at the Abbey after all these years?”
Grace was shaken and Lydia was ready to change the subject, but her father was the first to respond. “Max looks wonderful down at the Abbey. I for one think it was a splendid idea!”
“Thank you, Father,” was all Grace said. She was quite sure he knew it was not she who had arranged for Max to be brought to Essex, but she did not wish to discuss it.
Later, before they went to bed, Grace lightly knocked on her sister's bedroom door. At the call to come in, she entered, and Lydia smiled. “Oh, Grace, I hoped it was you. I wanted a chance to talk to you alone before the wedding.”
“Lydia, I wanted to give this to you,” Grace said, pulling a small wrapped box from behind her back.
“A present? What is it? I did not expect one, you know. It is enough having you here, knowing how hard it must be. You will never know how much I appreciate it.” Then she giggled. “But, if you
insist
on giving me a present...”
Grace sat on the side of the bed and watched as Lydia opened the small velvet box. She gasped, seeing the gold locket inside, then looked at Grace with questioning eyes.
“It was Mother's,” Grace said softly. “I know you do not remember her very well, but when she died, Father gave it to me. I knew even then that
you
were the one to have it. You are very much like her and I know she would have been very happy for you to wear it on your wedding day.”
Tears welled up in Lydia's eyes. She leaned forward and hugged Grace with all her might. They wept together, though for different things. “I will treasure it, Grace, and I will be honored to wear it tomorrow.”
There was a comfortable silence between them as they gazed at the locket. Lydia said what they were both thinking. “Our lives have changed so drastically in such a short period of time, haven't they, Grace?”
She nodded, feeling as though her heart was breaking.
“I know you probably do not wish to speak about Lord Weston, but is there no way to reconcile? I want you to have this happiness that I have discovered. I know he sent Max to you. Will you tell me what happened?”
“I cannot talk about it now. It is still a little too fresh, do you understand?” At Lydia's nod, Grace continued. “But he
is
another reason I wanted to see you tonight.” She turned slightly and stared into the fire. “Though I suppose whatever his feelings were, they are more than likely gone now. I have decided that this matter is too important to be practical about. I need to do something drastic if there is even the tiniest chance for us.”
She turned back to Lydia and took her hands. “I have planned something that is
very
unlike me.” She smiled as Lydia laughed. “But it would happen during your wedding. When you sent the letter telling me that you did not care what the
ton
thinks, I began contemplating this, and had an idea to get his attention, maybe give us one more opportunity to talk this out. It may cause a distraction, however, and I am loath to do that on the special day you and Lord Hendricks will remember all of your life.”
“Grace, I do not mind at all,” she said, so grown-up now. “I will do anything to help you have another chance with Lord Weston.” She squeezed Grace's hands. “I know he is the man for you, Grace. All of the things you always said you wanted in a man that I never understood, I do now. He makes you laugh. That was always on the top of your list. He trusts you and cares about your opinions. You love him and I am very sure that he is in love with you. You did not see him the day after you left. He was so downcast.
“And it was I who asked him not to rush to the Abbey, knowing you and how unhappy you were when you left the ball. I was afraid it was too soon and that you would quarrel beyond repair.”
“He wanted to come?” she whispered, searching Lydia's face.
“Of course he did. Oh, Grace, do not tell me I made a mistake in keeping him here.”
“You did not make a mistake, love. You were absolutely right. If he had come to the Abbey when I was still so hurt, I might have said things that I could never take back. But it is nice to know that he wanted to come.”
“Will you tell me what you have planned to get his attention?” she asked, as if waiting for a treat.
“If you do not mind, I would keep it to myself for now,” Grace said, looking down. “I may yet decide to be my practical self and not provoke him. I will continue to wait on God's lead regarding it.”
She stood up, and as she used to do when Lydia was a little girl, she removed the box with the locket from her hand, gently pushed her down onto her pillows and tucked her in, with a kiss on her forehead. “I suppose that is the last time I will get to do that,” she said, the affection evident in her voice. “Now, you must go to sleep.” She fluffed Lydia's pillows a little. “I love you, darling, and I am truly so very happy for you. Dennis is a very lucky man.” She turned then and hurried from the room.
The next morning dawned sunny and delightful. Lydia was a little anxious at breakfast, but it soon became a merry affair as they all tried to keep her mind off her nerves. They separated soon after to attend to their personal toilettes.
When they met again, they were all filled with praise for one another. Aunt Aggie looked regal enough to be a queen, in her signature purple gown, with an amazing diamond tiara on her head.
Grace wore a gown they had picked out weeks ago. Lydia had fallen in love with it and Grace was happy to be wearing whatever her sister wanted for her wedding. It was simple, no bows, no furbelows; but it was elegant because of that. It was a verdant green, and when she put it on, her eyes changed to match it, just as Brandon had always told her. It had short chiffon sleeves that billowed when she walked, with a rounded bodice and an Empire waist that showed off her figure to perfection. There was an overdress of the same green chiffon as the sleeves, and both the chiffon and the silk beneath it flowed beautifully. The skirt was straight and long and emphasized her regal height. She wore long white gloves and two white roses in her hair.
Grace could not stop the welling of tears in her eyes when she saw Lydia. Her sister outshone anyone she had ever seen, in her bridal gown embellished with tiny seed pearls. She wore a ring of white rosebuds in her blond curls, with her veil hanging down behind. When Grace saw the locket, she remembered the times their mother had worn it, and she liked to think that their mother was watching and crying with happiness herself. “I have no new way to tell you how beautiful you are, Lydia!” Grace told her proudly.
Their father, waiting at the bottom of the steps, looked handsome in his finery. Grace could tell that he, too, was affected by the sight of the locket, and he choked back several coughs behind his hand.
They left for the church, and the crowds of onlookers gathered around the cathedral gasped at the elegance of the wedding party. The family waited in the back of the church until Aunt Aggie was led to her seat, to let the guests know the bride had arrived. Grace and Lydia could see their two lords standing at a distance, up at the altar, and Lydia radiated happiness.
Grace walked to a small vestibule door to one side. “Lydia, excuse me for one moment. I will be right back.” She made the split-second decision to go through with her plan, and was gone only a moment. When Lydia saw her return, her eyes opened to twice their size and she smiled from ear to ear. “Grace, you clever thing. You have been hiding a very devious streak.”
“I hope it will do the trick, if it does not get me killed,” she said, her nervousness obvious. “Right now, however, we need to get you married.”
The music began and several children proceeded down the aisle, casting flower petals for the bride to walk on. When they reached the front, Grace kissed Lydia on the cheek and moved into the doorway to begin her own long walk to the front of the church. She was completely unaware of the quickly indrawn breaths and various mutterings as she stared straight into the eyes of Brandon Roth.
* * *
His eyes met hers the minute she started from the back of the church, and stayed locked there until she reached the altar and turned away from him. Her eyes were so green, an intense green. He heard the gasps; she was
beautiful.
No, she was striking, and he wondered how anyone had ever considered Lydia the more beautiful of the two. He expected the guests to titter as he and Grace reunited at the wedding after weeks of speculation. But now he could only attribute the buzz to her beauty.
He was drawn back to the present as everyone stood and Lydia began her walk down the aisle on her father's arm. Lydia was an ethereal beauty who glowed and blushed as she walked toward Dennis. She embodied every bride's dream. Though Brandon still did not think her the equal of his Grace, he knew Lord Hendricks was indeed a lucky man!
As the bride and groom came together in front of the archbishop, Brandon and Grace turned toward one another, closing in on either side.
It was then that his eyes widened in shock. Now he understood the indrawn breaths as she'd walked the aisle.
Grace was wearing the Weston emeralds!
Now that they faced each other, he could see the necklace and earrings glittering in the light streaming through the stained glass, shining as they never had before. But he wanted to see her left hand. Was she wearing the ring? Confound it! He would never be able to tell through the flowers she was holding. Gloves! Of course she would be wearing gloves. His frustration almost made him growl out loud.
He sent up a prayer to God to help him understand. He had let her words and those of Lord Langdon sink in, and had begun to believe that their God,
the
God, could erase his past through grace. She had said it over and over, “for by grace are ye saved,” then something else, “...and not of yourselves; it is the gift of God.” As long as she believed it, and could accept Brandon despite his flaws, he would begin to live his life in the knowledge of having received that grace, too.