Was it wrong to want something more than just a flicker of flattery from a gentleman’s attention? She knew it was nearly ungrateful to have the attention of suitors and not appreciate it, but she was . . . well, bored.
There was no adventure.
No mystery.
There wasn’t even a true sense of emotion.
Even the colors were muted, in shades of pastel and white, and she wondered if maybe that was to be her life.
She should want it. She should be thankful and agreeable and settle down with a nice, titled gentleman who could provide for her and their children. There was nothing wrong with such a thing.
But there wasn’t anything right about it either.
So it was that after the Rinehardt ball that she made the choice to speak with Samantha.
Because if anyone knew about taking a risk, it was she.
And Grace was just reckless enough to try something, if not adventuresome, then most certainly stupid.
And it would either make or break her.
But how can someone ever find out if they can fly, if they can reach higher, unless they actually try?
So it was with not a small amount of trepidation that Grace requested the company of Samantha in the green parlor after tea. It was an uncommonly beautiful day in London, and Grace started to second-guess her decision to stay indoors.
Samantha walked into the room, her lips bending into a welcoming smile as she met Grace’s gaze. “Good afternoon, dear.”
Grace stood and returned the greeting. But rather than sit, she started to walk about the room, collecting her thoughts as if they had run away from her.
“Ah, this must be serious if you’re pacing,” Samantha said, taking a seat as if nothing in the world were amiss. And, actually, nothing was wrong, but Grace felt as if things were in disarray. She should be happy with such attentions, yet she felt even more ill at ease as she thought about them. Was it so wrong to want more? She had to start the conversation, but how? She bit her lip.
“First you should take a deep breath,” Samantha replied. “Then start from the beginning. I do not imagine it is truly terrible.”
Grace took the encouraged breath, and then turned to face her former governess. “I feel . . . ungrateful.”
Samantha didn’t reply, but simply waited.
Grace continued her pacing where she left off. “I should be thankful to have the attentions of even one, let alone as many suitors as have shown interest and yet I find the prospect of their interest less than welcome. I do not wish to be a burden to you or the viscount by being under your guardianship for long. I realize that it is a great service to me that you are taking such great pains to find me a suitable husband and not just marrying me off to the first available gentleman—”
“We would never do such a thing!” Samantha interjected.
“And that is to your profound credit, but I do not feel equal to such credit as you offer because I cannot find even one of the men in question the least bit fascinating. I’m bored with them all, which sounds horribly ungrateful and even imprudent. But I . . . I saw my parents’ marriage and they not only loved one another, but they liked each other too. They spent all their time together, traveling, exploring, having one adventure after another, and even when it wouldn’t turn out like they planned, it would be alright, because they were together. Then I see you and the viscount and the deep affection you have for each other, and I do not want to miss out on such a blessing.” Grace took a deep breath, conscious that she was rambling.
“Why don’t you wait a moment and sit down,” Samantha encouraged.
Grace all but flopped into a chair in her exasperation with herself.
Samantha arched a brow but didn’t offer any reproof to her behavior. “You are not being ungrateful; you are learning that this isn’t as simple as you imagined.”
Grace tipped her head, considering her words. Never once had she thought it simple, but her attention was stressed on the formalities that she was to perfect—the dancing, the curtsey, and the like—not on the gentlemen involved. She rather assumed that if any were interested in her, she would be pleased. Simple as that.
Or rather, not as simple as that.
Samantha continued, “The viscount and I have spoken on this topic at length, and neither of us are inclined to have you enter marriage on so small a temptation as mere flattery of receiving an offer. To have your adventuresome spirit not attain its potential would be a tragedy. So, take it from me, you have more than adequate time to find a suitor whom you can both love and find equal to your challenge. We would have you do nothing less.” Samantha folded her hands on her lap and gave a small smile. “Now then, was there anything else?”
Grace frowned slightly. “No, it was simply . . . that.”
“Good, then. I suggest you take advantage of this beautiful day and take the opportunity to explore Hyde Park. Be sure to take Regina or another maid with you when you embark, however. Propriety and all,” Samantha reminded gently.
