Page 44 of Discovering Grace

At last, Grace spoke. “I know I have upset you. I am sorry for that. But please, Jacob. Do not judge me too harshly. I did what I must to make certain of my future, and to give my sister the chance at one of her dearest dreams.”

Jacob said nothing, the conflict in his heart and mind forcing him to keep still until he worked out what to do. His feelings for her, he realized, remained the same. But what was he to say about her actions?

“I am going to speak to my father now. You likely will not see me for some time.” She lowered her head, the bonnet obscuring his view of her expression. “I hope you can understand, someday. I know you cannot condone my actions, and that is all right. You will make a fine vicar, Jacob.”

Grace turned and went away, ignoring the path and cutting through the long grass in a direct line for the house. She did not look back, though he watched until she disappeared from sight. She never ran. Never faltered. In fact, she marched with the same determination he had seen in the soldiers who had practiced their drills marching through Aldersy years and years ago.

Yes, Grace had courage. But what of her integrity?

He dared not examine his heart’s reaction to how terribly wrong the day had gone.

Chapter 17

Though Grace hadn’t lacked the ability to tell Jacob exactly what she thought of her father’s plan to send her to the West Indies, her determination started withering as soon as she entered the house. Her bonnet and gloves, her reticule, she handed to a maid. “Please let Charlie know I will not need the cart and pony after all,” she said, realizing she had kept the boy and animal waiting for at least half an hour. She would need to make it up to them both.

As she walked down the hall, approaching her father’s door, Grace wanted to continue on by and save her revelation for another time. But when would it be best to confess? No matter the time, her father’s disappointment and anger would be the same.

Her feet stopped directly in front of the study. Her hand raised to knock, and she hesitated again.

Had she not just told Jacob there were different kinds of courage? She had to bear up and do the right thing. She had accepted the consequences when she chose to switch places with Hope.

Grace knocked.

“Come in.” Her father’s voice came through the wood, rich and warm as ever. Rarely had he ever lectured her, or raised his voice, as he had to Hope. Grace had never given him much reason to be displeased with her.

That is certainly about to change. She opened the door and entered, closing it carefully behind her. Her father’s study was not overly large, but it was a comfortable room, full of elegant reds and golds, and dark stained wood. Papa was not behind his desk, as she thought he might be, but standing at the window behind it. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Ah, dear me. Is it time for refreshment already?” he asked, checking the time by the clock on the mantel. He wore his spectacles.

“No, Papa. At least, it is not your usual time. But if you would like something, I might fetch it for you.” And give herself a few more moments of torment, facing the temptation to delay her confession.

“I am well enough,” he answered with a grateful nod. “Is there something I might do for you, daughter?” He raised his graying eyebrows and came away from the window, around his desk. “You look as though you are troubled.”

Grace crossed the distance between them, stopping at the chairs on the other side of the desk. “I have something I need to tell you.” Although she wanted to stare at the floor, she kept her chin level with the ground. “I have done something that will disappoint you.”

Papa stared at her, his face giving nothing of his thoughts away. “Have you? You had better tell me what it is, so we may go forward from there. I can see it upsets you, whatever the matter may be.”

It had been much easier to be brave when she explained herself to Jacob. Would Papa care to even hear the reasons for her actions?

Curling her hands into fists at her side, Grace put her resolve in each word she spoke. “Papa, I am not Hope. I am Grace. We switched places the morning I was to leave.”

Silence. The snapping fire, the slow tick of the clock, hardly made an impression upon her. All Grace could hear was the deafening muteness. Papa stared at her, his expression unchanging.

Until he sighed, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he grimaced. “I suspected as much.”

Had he announced he wished to disown her, Grace could not have been more taken aback. “You what?” she stuttered the words out, her voice squeaking. “You could not—” She grabbed the back of the chair for support. “Papa, if you did—?”

“Why not say anything?” he asked for her. “Because I was not sure. I had hoped no daughter of mine would perform such an outrageous farce.” His shoulders sagged. “Grace, how could you lie to me?”

As much as she hated the idea of him shouting at her, this unexpected reaction was somehow worse. “I could not go, Papa,” she said, her voice weak. “I could not board a ship and be away from all I love for a year.”

He took off his spectacles and rubbed at his eyes with the other hand. “Grace. This is a serious thing you have done. You have disobeyed my wishes, committed a deception not only upon your family but upon the entire neighborhood. Do you grasp the consequences to your actions? Have you any thought as to how this will change you in the eyes of all who know you?”

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off again.

“I do not imagine you do. Your selfish performance, your lies, have stained you.” He turned away from her. Why was he not shouting at her? Why not offer punishment and be done? “I had a letter yesterday from Mr. Carlbury. He wanted me to know they had sailed. Did you know Hope was gone?”

“Yes.” She could have left it at that but told him the whole truth. “We arranged for her to send a letter before disembarking.”