An Indecent Gambit

Chapter Thirty: Disillusioned

While James was in London with her cousins and brother-in-law, Grace was at home with her sister, Harriet, having a coze. Ellen and Mrs Follet were occupied with the more practical task of ensuring arrangements for tomorrow were in order, so Harriet was playing the role of the emotional confidante. It was safer for Grace to let her play that role than allow her anywhere near the bridesmaids' dresses or wedding breakfast. Chaos followed in Harriet's wake. As she walked into the entry hall on arrival, she knocked a vase off a table and shattered it into pieces. Harriet apologized profusely, insisted she had been nowhere near the vase and did not know how it had fallen, and cut her fingers trying to pick up the pieces. Nevertheless, once her hand was bound and she had been herded up the stairs to Grace's room, Harriet recovered her composure to tell Grace some Very Interesting Things about the married state, much of which Grace was sure could not be true, and to ask probing questions about the nature of true love. Harriet was a romantic.

"I am not a romantic," Grace said. "I like James more than adequately, and when you meet him, I am sure you will agree he is handsome. But it is a marriage of convenience. It always was."

"You would not marry only for convenience," Harriet said. "Besides, Mother told me about the long silences that occur when you and James are alone. Scandalous, Grace!"

Grace's cheeks warmed, but she affected a careless shrug. "We sometimes talk very quietly, when it is just us two alone."

"Yes, I like to talk quietly with Mr Underton too." Harriet's dimples appeared as she grinned. "I think James sounds like a nice young man. You won't say you're in love with him, of course, but you always were cagey about your feelings — as though there's any danger in showing the world that you're happy!"

"Of course I'm happy," Grace protested. "But I'm not in love with James. And he..." She remembered how he had almost said he loved her. "I suspect he feels more for me than I do for him, but I am not sure that he really loves me. Perhaps a man who loves as easily as James can never love deeply."

"Mother says he adores you. She rarely gets these things wrong."

That made Grace's heart flutter. "He is quick to affection. A double-edged sword, I think."

"But no real danger unless he is inconstant too." Harriet patted Grace's knee. "I am disposed to like James. I can't wait to meet him tomorrow. And if he is not handsomer than you have described I will be surprised."

Grace drew her legs up under her and hugged a pillow. "Part of me wants to run away, Harrie."

"I felt the same way. I think most women do. But I was also excited, you see, that I would finally have Mr Underton all to my own, in my own house." Harriet's eyes danced. "And my own bed."

"You speak of that quite differently to Ellen. The way she described it, it was a chore."

"Yes, but the poor dear is married to Mr Montague, isn't she? I don't think she quite understands." Harriet patted her hair and looked pleased with herself. "I am glad you did not marry that sleek little curate. He reminded me of a water rat, you know, sort of damp and plump and beady-eyed. I don't think he would have made you happy. You will know what I mean, tomorrow night."

Grace shuddered. "Don't talk about Benson. I am almost sure that he only wanted me for my money — what little there was of it. How he singled me out as a woman who could be tricked with sweet lies, I don't know."

"Because men like that always do know. It's an instinct, with them." Harriet gave Grace a consoling pat. "You know James wants you for who you are. It may be a marriage of convenience, but there is no pretence about it. Except perhaps the pretence that you feel for him less than you do."