CHAPTER 18
“Lady Grace, may I join you?” Tristan said. He felt a strong sense of determination as he strode across the lawn towards her.
She looked up from where she was sitting on a wrought-iron bench, her fingers delicately tracing the edges of a book that lay open on her lap. “Of course, My Lord,” she replied warmly. “I would be delighted.”
He sat down next to her, enjoying the tranquility of the scene. She had chosen a rather secluded corner of the garden, and they were surrounded by fragrant blooms. It was moments like this when he felt truly grateful to be the earl of such a magnificent estate.
“You have chosen a perfect spot,” he remarked.
“I confess that I was searching for some peace, away from the other guests,” she replied. “We live a rather quiet life at home, and this party is is rather more company than I am used to.”
“Oh, would you prefer that I leave you alone?” Tristan said, feeling awkward suddenly. “It must be rather difficult for you, if you are not used to being around so many people.”
For all the time that he had spent so far with Lady Grace, he still did not feel entirely at ease in her company, sweet-natured though she was. And he sensed that although they talked a lot, they never really said anything of meaning. But he pushed the thoughts away as soon as they entered his mind.
She shook her head, and flashed him an open smile. “Not at all,” she insisted. “I am quite happy to be here with you.”
He settled beside her, trying to relax. “What tales does your book hold today?” he inquired, glancing at the pages.
“Ah, it is a rather dull account of local history that my sister found in your library,” she confessed with a playful sigh. “It is perhaps more to her taste than it is to mine. I find myself yearning for more adventure, more stories that whisk one away to far-off lands. Those are the kinds of books I like the most, where you can imagine yourself to be somewhere else completely.”
Tristan raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You wish to travel, then? To see the world beyond our little corner of England? Or do you simply enjoy to escape in your mind?”
Grace smiled shyly. “Traveling far and wide is not something that I allow myself to dream of,” she said. “I do not think that it is in my future and I am at peace with that.”
Tristan returned her smile. “You may know this already, but I have traveled extensively - through the grand cities of Europe and the quaint villages of the countryside. There is a certain thrill in the unknown, a sense of freedom in leaving behind the familiar. Perhaps you would enjoy it, if the opportunity ever arose for you.”
“I think that reading about it will have to be enough for me,” Grace replied. “I am not brave enough to leave the confines of polite society, I do not think. It is not what I have been brought up for, at any rate.”
Tristan looked at her curiously, remembering the conversation he had had with Diana about his travels, only a few days ago. Her eyes had lit up when he had talked of his adventures, and he could imagine her wandering through the streets of Paris, or walking among the ruins of Greece. But Lady Grace…he was not so sure.
“You will be happy to live out your life in the drawing room, or the ballroom, then?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think that is my place in life, and I accept it,” she replied.
Tristan glanced away for a moment, imagining a reality that was somewhat different from that which lay before him. He shookhis head briefly, trying to push the thoughts away, then focused his attention on Lady Grace again. She really was very pretty, he thought. No one could think otherwise. Her blonde hair was arranged on top of her head, but a few strands were falling down around her face. He realized, though, as he looked at her, that her prettiness did not spark any strong feelings in him. It was like looking at a painting, he thought. He could appreciate it, but that was all. It did not ignite any strong passions within him, although perhaps that was a good thing, he thought, a little wryly.
His thoughts flew, unbidden, to the memory of Diana sitting at her desk in the parlor, her hair falling about her face, and her fingers stained with ink. His heart jumped in his chest for a moment, but he forced himself to dismiss the thought.
“I admire you that you accept your place in the world,” Tristan said eventually. “It is something I have fought against myself, and it brings no peace. It is better to be realistic. Perhaps you will not be an intrepid traveler, and see the ruins of Rome or the canals of Venice, but I think that you will have a happy life, nonetheless. Or at least I hope that you do.”
“I hope that you do not think me dull,” Grace said. “I do not wish to live a mediocre life, or a boring one, but I think that a domestic life can bring happiness in and of itself.”
Tristan smiled. “I think you are very wise, Lady Grace.”
They sat a little while longer in silence. It was not awkward, though, Tristan realized, and he allowed himself to enjoy themoment. Hosting a house party was rather hard work, he reflected, and Lady Grace was right – a few moments of peace, away from the other guests, was something to be savored.
All too soon, though, he felt the pull of duty tugging at his heart. “I must go back to the house,” he said, getting up from the bench and smoothing his clothes. “I must speak with the cook about the dinner for tonight. I was rather hoping that my grandmother would deal with some of these details for me, but alas, she keeps forgetting, so I must make sure that I have covered everything. I cannot have my guests going hungry!”
Grace giggled. “I am sure no one will go hungry in this house, My Lord. The food has been most excellent; all the other guests have said so.”
“I should hope that no one would go hungry,” he agreed, “and I am very glad to hear that. Now, I will bid you farewell, and see you later on in the drawing room before dinner.” He turned on his heel and walked away, imagining for a moment some scenario in the future where Grace was his wife, and was looking after all the domestic details of their home, and managing all the entertaining. He had no doubt that she would do a perfect job of it. He wondered, as he walked towards the house, if she was thinking the same thing. Yet, there seemed to be a distance in the way she had spoken to him today. Not a disinterest, exactly – she would never be so impolite as to appear disinterested in him – but a sense that she was not quite so engaged by his company as she had been only a couple of days ago. He realize that the more he thought about it, the more he did not really mind; his feelings for Grace had never been strong, and he thought that perhaps they might develop over time. But the truth was that hesuspected that he shared her indifference. No matter, though, he told himself; grand passion was not a prerequisite for the kind of marriage he had always had in mind for himself.
He reflected, as he made his way towards the kitchen, that perhaps his rather muted feelings for Lady Grace were safer than what he felt when he thought of her sister. But he could not allow himself to think of these things, he told himself. Instead, he plowed on with the duties of the day, working through the menus with the cook and agreeing every detail for this evening’s dinner. He wanted everything to be perfect, no matter what.
The drawing room was alive with the soft murmur of conversation, punctuated by the occasional peal of laughter, as the guests gathered for drinks before dinner.
“The house party has been a great success, I think.”
