Page 18 of Discovering Grace

If only she had someone in whom to confide. But her regular confidante was in London, and Jacob had made it quite clear he had no intention of speaking with her while she pretended to be someone else. Pretended to be Hope, the object of his affection. Yet Grace wished she could speak with him, despite his obvious anger with her at the moment.

Grace settled herself on Hope’s bed, holding onto the post with one hand.

Allowing Jacob to believe the whole thing was Hope’s idea further nettled Grace’s attempts at contemplation. It was wrong. She needed to tell him the very next time she saw him that she concocted the entire plan herself and persuaded Hope to go along with it. Not the other way around. If nothing else, it might soften his opinion of Hope a touch.

An ache that had become familiar to Grace returned to her heart. Though Grace despised feeling sorry for herself, her already rattled mind and guilt-stricken heart made it terribly easy for the pain to settle upon her.

She promised herself she would not think on Jacob as more than a friend. Not ever again. She had allowed herself to dream about it once, imagining what it might be like for him to court her. Then Jacob had begun looking at Hope, and Grace put her dreams aside.

Tracing the whirls in the bedpost with one finger, Grace saw the whole scene from the previous afternoon clearly in her mind. Jacob’s shock, his disgust, his pain, at his loss of Hope.

Jacob did not see Grace as anything other than his old friend, likely regarding her with the same brotherly eye with which he watched over his sisters. Yet he stared at Hope as though he had never seen anything like her before.

Why did the one man who clearly recognized them as separate people have to be enamored with the elder Everly twin? Hope had never paid Jacob more attention than she had Silas and Isaac. Hope laughed at the idea of marriage, of being tied down to a home and family, but Grace yearned for those very things to call her own.

Grace did not realize she had started crying until a warm tear fell down her cheek, followed by another on the other side. She dashed them away quickly. Crying over Jacob Barnes had proved a useless action in the past.

The card party. She needed to create a plan of action, a mental script, of how to act and what to say while among other people in the neighborhood. Who might the Greenfields invite?

Rising from the bed, Grace went to her sister’s small writing desk. After a few moments of digging about in Hope’s things, Grace found pencil and paper and started making a list of possible guests. She focused on turning her mind to each person she knew and of Hope’s opinions of them. Slowly she decided on the best course take when greeted by any one of them. No one at the party would ever know they had conversed with Miss Grace rather than Miss Everly.

The hours crept by until Susan came to help her dress for dinner and the evening’s entertainment. Grace chose one of Hope’s favorite gowns to wear, though the bright coral color made rather too bold a statement for Grace’s liking. Hope would choose something like that dress, to show the whole neighborhood her punishment had not dampened her spirits.

Susan stood behind Grace at the dressing table, putting the finishing touches on her hair. “The curls look lovely, miss. They don’t normally stay so well for you. Must be a bit of luck tonight.”

Grace, preoccupied with what she might say if Lady Olivia made an appearance, barely heeded her maid’s tone. “Perhaps. I will need all the good fortune in the world to get through tonight.” She heaved a sigh and raised her eyes to meet Susan’s in the mirror’s and caught the maid frowning. “Is something wrong, Susan?” she asked.

“No, miss.” Susan shifted and took a step back. “Just admiring your hair is all.”

Grace’s stomach tightened. Her hair. Hope was forever bemoaning that Grace’s hair stayed put far better than her own. Could such a simple thing give her away?

Susan’s expression cleared and she shook her head. “There now. Pretty as a picture. Dinner ought to be ready downstairs, miss. You mustn’t keep your father waiting.”

“Thank you.” Grace stood quickly, instinctively needing to put distance between herself and the maid. As though being out of Susan’s sight would be enough to put her out of mind, too. Dread inched into her thoughts. Why hadn’t she considered her dratted hair?

Her father said little to her at dinner, though he did venture to compliment her gown. The silence at the table was necessary, though it made Grace more restless. Normally she and Hope would speak of their day, talk of their visits to neighbors with their mother and father, and when the younger children were home they would all chat at once filling the room with their cheer and affection.

But she could not risk conversation.

“I miss your mother,” her father said near the end of the dinner hour. When she dared to look up at him, she saw he stared at her mother’s empty chair. “I hope your aunt will be well soon. It is far too quiet around here at present.” He sighed and stood. “And I cannot find anything when she is gone, besides.”

Apparently, his spectacles had gone missing again. Perhaps that was another stroke of luck for Grace.

“I am certain Mama will have Aunt cured quickly, and will come home soon.” Grace spoke the comforting words without thought, then bit her lip. Though natural for her to be mindful of her father’s moods, Hope may not have said something such as that.

Her father walked away from the table and to the front door, hardly seeming to notice her words. “Come, the carriage will be waiting.”

Grace took in a deep, steadying breath and followed. People mixed up Hope and Grace all the time. Dressed as the bolder sister, no one would think twice about which Everly sister attended the party that night. If anything, Grace reasoned, she might allow that truth to give her ease. Hope rarely thought before she spoke, and hardly cared for what others thought of her. For the first time in her life, Grace might allow herself that same privilege. After all, people would expect it.

Yet the whole carriage ride to the Greenfields all she could do was worry over every word not yet spoken and every gesture made in her sister’s name.

* * *

Jacob did not move from his spot in the corner when Grace’s familiar figure entered the drawing room. Clad in a bright gown that likely made her uncomfortable, Grace stood out at once in the crowded room. Most young ladies wore evening gowns in pastel colors, the matrons wore darker colors, and there stood Grace like a wild rose in a field of heather.

While he would not exactly call Grace shy, she never liked attention at events such as this, yet Hope thrived when all eyes turned upon her. As everyone in the room but himself believed Hope Everly stood in their midst, their neighbors obliged Hope’s nature and immediately began to seek out the young woman’s company.

Did no one else see Grace turn pale? Her eyes darted from one person to the next, never settling long enough to do more than give a brief greeting. She conversed deeply with no one, though she spoke to everyone who addressed her.