“Short of publicly disparaging me, I don’t see any way around it.”
Grace shook her head, trying to dispel the memory from her mind. Yes. She knew the wreckage of a marriage undone and while she was sympathetic to Dr. Hall, a small part of her wondered if perhaps it had been for the best. If the lady didn’t want to marry him, surely he was better off without her.
Wasn’t he?
“Are you all right, my dear?” Aunt Belle asked, causing Grace to look up. Her aunt was watching her with a thoughtful expression.
“Yes, of course. I just… That’s a very unfortunate thing to have happened to Dr. Hall.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Yes, but then there is the philosophy that everything happens for a reason,” Belle continued. “Some things are better left unsaid and some things are better left undone. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
Grace nodded, though she had the strangest feeling that Aunt Belle was trying to tell her something specific.
“Well, come, let’s not discuss the misfortunes of a good man,” Arabella said, changing the subject. “Let’s instead talk about the ball being held by the Viscount of Collimore. I’ve heard they throw the most lavish of parties.”
“That is true, although the viscountess can be rather dated in her dresses. I believe she found a particular style that complemented her form and has refused to change it for some thirty years,” Belle said. “Now, I prefer these new styles. Wider skirts lend to the appearance of a smaller waist.” She winked. “Even when that’s not the case.”
Grace smiled, allowing her spirits to lift as the topic changed from Dr. Hall to the opera that would be in town the followingmonth. Musicals were one of Grace’s most pleasing pleasures and while she wasn’t at all talented at any instrument, she did enjoy listening to them. Thus, she was quite excited to learn that she would be attending the opera.
“In the meantime, Grace will start her formal training at the start of next week,” Belle said, once more dictating the conversation. “And while I know it will take several months, I wanted to present you with something.”
Belle raised one of her bejeweled wrists to signal for Andrews to come forward. Removing a small cream-colored velvet pouch from his pocket, he presented it to Belle.
“My lady.”
“Thank you, Andrews,” she said, picking it up. “Now my parents weren’t very good at giving presents and so your grandmother and I were raised outside the idea. However, as I grew older, I’ve come to realize that giving gifts is one of my favorite activities. So, know that this is just as much a pleasure for me as it is for you.”
Aunt Belle handed Grace the small bag. For a moment, she worried that it might be some sort of jewelry as Belle was known to have an extensive collection and Grace wouldn’t be able to enjoy it as she had been told by Dr. Hall that she wasn’t to wear any adornments. Turning the bag upside down, a small, golden tube fell into her hand. It was a pendant of sorts, though of what, Grace couldn’t decipher. Thin, shallow marks had been carved into the sides, creating a delicate, cross stitch sort of pattern.
“It’s lovely,” she said, unsure.
“My dear, open it.”
Grace glanced up, confused, before bringing her other hand toward it. Twisting and pulling, she was met with little resistance as the top popped off to reveal a pen.
“It’s a propeller pencil. One I’m sure you’ll need for your notes.”
Grace’s mouth fell open at the thoughtful gift. It was exactly what she needed and it would keep her from losing her pencils. Glancing up, she had to blink back the tears, as she was touched. Aunt Belle was truly supportive of her choice.
Standing, she moved around the corner of the table and bent down to hug her aunt.
“Thank you, so very much.”
“Oh, well then.” Belle patted her uncomfortably on the shoulder. “Come now, there’s no need for that.”
“There is though,” Grace said, pulling back. “I’m so very grateful for you, Aunt Belle. I think I don’t deserve you, but I’m so happy I have you.”
The hint of a sparkle shone in the elderly woman’s eyes as she blinked several times.
“Stop that, my dear. There’s no need for such a display of emotion. You may keep it on that pretty chain Miss Fletcher gifted to you before you left Glencoe.”
Grace blinked as her hand rose to her clavicle. The elegant, silver chain that Mrs. Fletcher had given her was not visible, for she wore it beneath the shirt of her dress, but she had not taken it off since she received it.
“You know about that?”
“My dear, I know everything. Now. When shall we go to the modiste?”
