Page 43 of Discovering Grace

“Yes.” He stepped closer, gazing down at her. “To the orchard? Unless you grow tired of that particular path.”

“No.” She put the letter back into her little bag, then moved in the direction of the apple trees.

Jacob took two quick steps and snatched up her hand, startling her. He threaded it through his arm, then continued on as though nothing was amiss. They had not walked that way very often. Most of the time, if he offered an arm to Grace, Hope took the other. Alone with her now, her hand upon him, he took a moment to enjoy the sensation. How often had he touched her, as her friend? Helping her in and out of carriages, escorting her across a ballroom floor for a dance, and playing together as children, there must have been thousands of times in the past. Lately, however, he’d become more aware of her. More aware of the peace which settled in his heart when near her.

Distracting her with conversation struck him as the strategic thing to do, lest he give something of his feelings away too soon. “When did you receive the letter?”

She stared up at him almost plaintively, then turned so the brim of her bonnet blocked his view of her eyes. “Yesterday morning.”

“Yesterday?” That surprised him. She had let another entire day go by without admitting the truth to her father. “Are you afraid of what your father will say?” Grace had never exactly been timid. Only quiet. Yet she had done her part in a trick that would lead to great heartache and disappointment for her parents.

“Not precisely.” She paused a moment, and then spoke her next words clearly. “I think whatever punishment he gives will be worth the peace I have won by remaining home.”

That did not sit well with him. “Wrongdoing is to be weighed against the consequences? You do not care about the response to your deception because you feel it was worth it?”

Grace sighed as though disappointed. “You cannot understand. You are a man.” Her hand tightened briefly upon his arm, as though to soften her words. “You have choices. And I, even though I am of age, have none. Were I a son, my father would not attempt to send me away against my will. As a daughter, I am to be moved about as a pawn on a chessboard.”

Jacob’s feet scuffed to a stop. “A pawn? Grace, your father loves you.”

“I know,” she said. “But that does not mean he always does what is best for me. Sending me with the Carlburys was a punishment. But does a year away from all I love seem like an appropriate response to something Hope did wrong? He did not ask if I wished to go, or how I viewed the situation. He demanded it of me.” Grace spoke softly, adopting a tone he had heard used before, by nurses and mothers when they explained difficult concepts to children.

“You have taken part in a lie, Grace. An act of disobedience. You may not have wished to go, but your father must have had his reasons for sending you.” Jacob shook his head and began their walk again, though her steps seemed reluctant to match his.

Grace released a deep sigh. “Whatever wrong I have done does not compare to the wrong my father would do to me. He made a pronouncement when he was out of temper and no one would speak against him. I acted as I felt I must, and I am not sorry for it.”

He had not expected such a response from Grace. While she had never been a contrary child, or a willful one, she had been stubborn. Just in a gentler way than most. “Very well. Then you will not apologize to your father?”

“No. But I will tell him the truth.” They were nearly to the shade of the orchard when their progress halted again when Grace tugged at his arm. “And I must tell you the truth, Jacob.”

“What truth? I knew of your identity from the beginning.” Thankfully, he had never struggled to tell Grace and Hope apart.

Grace’s hand fell from his arm. He watched as she raised her chin and squared her shoulders, gathering her words and her dignity like a shield around her.

Dread stilled his breath. She intended to tell him that his advances from the previous day were unwanted, and she did not feel for him anything beyond friendship. What other reason would she have to appear so grim? His fists clenched, as if he could fight away such words.

“None of this was Hope’s idea.”

Surprise replaced his fear. “None of what?”

“I came up with the plan to switch places.” Her words emerged clear and strong. Unashamed. “I could not bear the thought of leaving home, of journeying to the West Indies. I have never wanted to leave here, and Hope was desperate to have her taste of adventure. I went to her the night before I was to leave and told her my plan. I had thought on it for days before I presented it to her.”

Utterly confused, Jacob started shaking his head. Her declaration made no sense. “I thought you said Hope persuaded you—?”

Grace cut him off, her words spilling out with urgency. “I never said that, though you assumed it. Everyone thinks that Hope’s propensity to rush into things headlong shows some sort of courage, and I do think she is quite brave. But it takes a different sort of bravery to plan all that I did. I had to do something to save myself, because no one else would.” She took in a deep breath and stared at him, her eyes wide and pleading.

Pleading for what?

Everything had been her idea. She had no intention of apologizing for any of it, for admitting all she and Hope had done, all their lies, was wrong. And he had thought—had entertained the idea—of courting her.

“Grace,” he said, taking a step away from her. “I hardly know what to say. I feel—it’s as if I don’t know you at all.”

Tears glimmered in Grace’s eyes. “Perhaps that is true. But I know you, Jacob. You are my dearest friend, and I have watched for the past year as you have done nothing to ensure your own happiness. You must excuse me, for I could not sit so long as you have when action was needed.”

Her words reverberated through his mind, condemning him for acting a coward and not speaking to Hope of his desire to court her. It did not matter. Not really. He could brush aside Grace’s anger, tell her his hesitation had saved them all from heartache, ask if he might try to get it right this time by courting her instead.

But to what end? He’d thought he understood Grace. Yet this conversation had shaken him, left him uncertain.

What was left for him to say? The silence stretched longer between them, the rustling of the leaves and far-off calling of birds the only noises which disturbed the stillness.