Determined not to be swayed by mere looks and pretty compliments, Grace reminded herself that, despite verifying hisposition as the man of business, she still did not fully trust Mr Stone. Her instincts told her he was hiding something—Mary would be proud of her suspicion—and she was determined to uncover the truth.
She did not even know if he was married or had children.No, he could not be married, as he wore no ring. But then again, some men removed rings, she mused. Regardless,why am I building castles in the sky, she scoffed.He would not be contemplating any sort of serious attachment to me in my current state. And yet, Grace was certain she had caught glances of admiration in his eyes. Perhaps she was mistaken, and he was simply surprised by her outspokenness and eccentricities. There was no reason to assume any deeper interest.
Deciding to ignore such glances, she was determined to complete her task as quickly as possible. That way, she could return to her routine and forget about her lost girlhood dreams. If she had any hope of protecting her heart in the process, she would have to be resilient to his polished charm. The best way to avoid falling into that trap, she decided, was to be as unappealing in her manner towards him as possible. Hopefully, then, he would lose interest—with all his manly good looks and charm.
More importantly, she needed to keep her head clear and search for clues about the missing girls while helping the tenants.
With renewed resolve, she stabbed her gown with a needle with more vigour than usual.
JIMMY, THE POOR SOUL, had been hard at work running around the Skye Estate, warning the remaining tenants about Grace’s disguise. He accompanied her, ready to tackle any staff or tenant who might slip up, saying,
‘If anyone forgets, I’ll soon set 'em right!’ he declared, earning a chuckle from Grace.
Thus, in good cheer, she arrived at the Manor and was shown into the study, where she found Mr Stone poring over some ledgers. He stood immediately and welcomed her in his usual style, but Grace moved past him quickly before he could take her hand again.
Mr Stone was left in her wake with a surprised but amused look on his face. He held his hands up in mock acquiescence to her refusal to be touched.
Wasting no time, Grace immediately set to work. ‘Would you like some refreshments, Miss Skye?’ he asked as he walked towards her, like a panther stalking his prey. Her heart skipped a beat at his approach, but she recovered quickly.
‘No, thank you. I would just like to crack on, if I may?’ she replied briskly, grabbing the nearest pile of ledgers and taking a seat behind the desk, grateful for the barrier.
‘Very well,’ he said, following her around and pulling up a chair much too close to hers for her liking. His fragrance distracted her, and she was sure his arm brushed against her for no reason at all. As his large form emanated heat, her heart drummed in her chest,gosh even my ears are burning.As she tried to edge away, the frustrating man leant closer.
She had a hard time concentrating but forged on valiantly, despite her fast-beating heart and the slight tremor in her hands at his proximity.
She spent a great deal of time reviewing the Estate’s financial statements, income, and expenses. They soon discovered that the previous steward had been pilfering, which came as no surprise. However, it was important to know the full extent of the damage—a difficult task, as the accounts had not been updated for quite some time.
It was a slow, methodical process, but Grace did not mind. As the calculations became more intricate, Grace found her focus shifting to the numbers and thankfully less on Mr Stone. He often remarked in astonishment over her abilities and knowledge of the Estate.
Over the next few days, they fell into a routine. Grace would arrive in the morning, and they would remain in the study reconciling the books until the late afternoon. Then, they would take refreshments—which Mr Stone insisted upon, despite Grace’s reluctance—before she would leave for the day.
To her disappointment, she could not find any paperwork or letters containing clues about the missing girls. At times, she surreptitiously left the study under the pretence of using the lady’s room, slipping away to search a room or two. But she found nothing untoward. The rooms were perfectly clean.
After completing her search of the ground floor, she returned for refreshments. She wondered if she might have better luck speaking with the maids and footmen and thought of ways to approach them privately.
As she entered the room, Mr Stone asked, ‘Miss Skye, what are your plans after your sister gets married?’
Caught off guard by such an existential question, Grace answered honestly.
‘I would like to have a purpose in life. I would like to leave the world a better place than I found it.’
He chuckled. ‘A true Gracian reply. Not content to seek personal comfort and security like most women, but to ascend. I am curious—how do you intend to better the human race?’ He rose from his chair and rested against the fireplace mantel. Grace involuntarily noted his rather impressive muscular arms and shoulders.
But bristling at his remark, Grace retorted, ‘I detect disbelief in your tone, Mr Stone, but I stand by what I said. I would liketo make a difference—to improve the world, even if it only helps one other person. After all, any animal can look after itself. If more people worked to help just one other person, would the world not be a better place?’
His tone turned serious. ‘There was no intent to belittle your aspirations. I have every intention of helping you achieve your goals. I think you have already begun by improving the lives of the tenants.’
Grace sighed. ‘I wish I could do more. Sadly, society limits a woman’s ability to effect genuine change.’
‘You mean Western society, Miss Skye,’ Mr Stone corrected gently. ‘There are places where women may freely contribute to diverse fields—medicine, science, philosophy, mathematics, and more. I know of women who have excelled in extensive charity work too.’
‘Indeed?’ Grace replied cynically. ‘Pray tell, where might these utopias exist? If they truly do, I shall pack my bags at once.’ Her flippant tone betrayed her disbelief.
‘Careful what you promise, Miss Skye. I might hold you to it.’
He locked eyes with her, and she realised he was not joking. Flustered, she shifted her gaze downward. A thousand questions formed in her mind, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak.
He continued, ‘In the Ottoman Empire, Muslim women are permitted an education if they so choose—some even become scholars. There, you would not have lost your home and land, as women inherit property by law. Entailments are prohibited. Moreover, upon marriage, a woman’s wealth remains hers; it does not default to her husband, as it does here. Many invest in business, lease properties and they retain their income for themselves.’
