Mr Stone chuckled with a devilish glint in his eyes. ‘Fear not, Miss Skye. I mean no disrespect. I simply noticed that you endure a long trek each day, which must be exhausting. Also, I find myself increasingly reliant on your help, and daylight is limited. Completing this task swiftly would be far easier if you and your family were to return here. Your sister could properly prepare for her come-out—she will need a dance master and the opportunity to practice her music, after all. And you would be spared the arduous journey between your cottage and the Manor. Naturally, you are welcome to bring a chaperone to ensure propriety.’
Grace’s heart tightened. For a brief, foolish moment, she had thought—No. Ridiculous.
Grace hardly knew what to say. ‘I will have to discuss this with my family.’
Her first instinct was to accept—they could finally return home—but the realisation hit her like a blow. This was not a true homecoming. They would be guests, employees at best.
The prospect of seeing Mr Stone in a more intimate setting excited her but fear quickly eclipsed that feeling.What if I grow more attached to him than I already am?
Before she left for the day, she and Mr Stone attempted to open both the cellar door and the safe, but it was impossible. They agreed they would need a locksmith.
ON THE WAY HOME, GRACEfelt uneasy about how things were unfolding. Though apprehensive about moving back into the Manor, she could not deny that Mr Stone had a point—traveling back and forth each day was no easy feat. Returning to Skye Manor would allow her to work more efficiently.
That evening, she discussed the matter with Heather and Mrs Merriweather.
Mrs Merriweather discovered Grace’s growing attachment to Mr Stone and could not help but give her the ‘‘I told you so’’ lecture. Grace hung her head low and endured the speech patiently, humbled. After a half hour of this and upon noticing Grace’s low spirits, however, Mrs Merriweather relented and relaxed her stance on the matter. ‘There, there Miss Grace, I am sure you will get over it soon enough.’ She patted Grace’s hand.
‘Why does she need to get ‘over’ it, Mrs M?’ asked Heather in her usual energetic way. ‘He sounds like a catch.’
Grace expected Mrs Merriweather to scold Heather for being so forward, instead to her surprise she said, ‘I suppose, now that we know he is helping the tenants and is going out of his way to investigate the missing girls, he appears to be a decent sort of person.’
‘Exactly.’ Heather enthused. ‘We should move back home. Grace spends all day with him anyway. And as he pointed out, I do need dancing lessons.’
Mrs Merriweather paused her knitting, a slight crease in her brow formed, ‘At least this way, it will lend more propriety, and I suppose we can find out more about him.’ Grace's jaw dropped to the floor.
By the end of the evening, both Mrs Merriweather and Heather appeared keen to move in, which only deepened Grace’s guilt. It was yet another reminder of how inadequate her guidance had been—ironic, considering Mr Stone was doing a better job of helping Heather than she was. A dance master and space to practice her music were exactly what Heather needed, and their small cottage could not provide that.
Yet Grace could not shake her misgivings.
‘We cannot possibly move back to Skye Manor. Mr Stone humiliated me,’ she said, arms folded. ‘He was trying to make me cave—I am certain of it. I won’t give him the satisfaction.’
Mrs Merriweather and Heather exchanged knowing looks.
‘Oh, Gracy,’ Heather sighed.
‘You must admit,’ Mrs Merriweather added with amusement, ‘he is helping us by offering this.’
Grace scowled. ‘I do not owe him anything.’
Mrs Merriweather and Heather fell into peals of laughter when Grace recounted her melting face incident during the interviews.
At first, they suggested abandoning her disguise altogether, but they quickly realised Grace had dug in her heels. They suspected she was using it as a barrier to protect herself. Understanding her past disappointments, they refrained from pressing further.
Instead, Heather tried a different tactic. ‘Look, Gracy, I think you should stop using the cream and remove the padding. I have already spoken to Betty, and she will do this gradually. With all the shawls and loose gowns, no one will notice anyway—hopefully, he will not. At least then you will feel more comfortable and natural around him.’
Grace’s irritation flared. ‘It is all very well for Mrs M to chaperone us, but we would still be living with a man!’
Mrs Merriweather looked offended. ‘I am perfectly capable of chaperoning you both. I am no longer a paid companion—I am a relative, albeit a distant one. Besides, the property belongs to the Duke of Armitage, not Mr Stone. He is just an employee, not unlike Taylor and the others. Besides, His Grace is openly sponsoring Miss Heather, so it is only natural for her to reside on his Estate while he is away. I see no impropriety here.’
Grace was thoroughly chastised and acquiesced.
The ladies spent the remainder of the evening speculating about the three mysterious men and the enigmatic Averton as they packed, excited to return home—even if only temporarily.
THE NEXT DAY WAS Aflurry of activity as the Skye sisters and Mrs Merriweather moved back into the Manor. Mr Stone graciously allowed them to return to their former bedrooms rather than the guest rooms—an act that did not go unnoticed by the ladies.
Heather and Mrs Merriweather were particularly struck by Mr Stone’s handsomeness. Each reacted differently—Mrs Merriweather giggled more often, while Heather grew uncharacteristically shy in his presence.
Grace rolled her eyes at them both.Surely, I was not so obvious in my own manner...
