Grace Unchained

2: All Things Considered

A half an hour later Grace was sipping coffee from a china cup, nibbling on a piece of lemon cake, and wondering whether caffeine was a good idea. Her nerves were still shot, despite the unexpected release she'd found in the bathtub. There was something she wouldn't forget any time soon. Every time the image came into her mind, she felt her cheeks heat up. Part of her wanted to feel ashamed—part of her did feel ashamed. But just as big a part felt uncharacteristically good about herself. She'd done something bold, unusual. Why was it that such a torrid act could make her feel this way? Was she experiencing belated teenage rebellion, or was it just that she'd done something so far outside of the box she was accustomed to that she couldn't help but be proud of herself?

Her thoughts were interrupted by Edward, who returned through the door to the hallway. He was once again prim and proper, his suit as perfectly pressed as it had been when she first saw him. Looking at him standing there, this dapper gentleman old enough to be her father, she could scarcely believe what they'd done together less than hour before, in just the other room.

"Mr. Lowell has just returned home," he announced, folding his hands and adopting what seemed to be his default posture. "When you're finished, I will take you to meet him."

Grace put down the remains of her lemon cake, the perfect tart flavor of it going suddenly sour in her mouth. "I'm ready," she said. Brushing imaginary crumbs off her skirt—she'd eaten over the china plate provided, terrified of staining her suit—she got up and followed him out of the room.

They followed the paneled hallway further along the house, eventually emerging into a wider arcade with arched French doors letting out into a manicured garden. The grounds were still verdant green, despite it being October, and they seemed endless to her eyes, perfectly mown grass rolling down from the garden to a line of trees in the middle distance.

"The house is...very impressive," she managed. Edward looked back over his shoulder and nodded in agreement.

"Yes," he said, "a fine example of the English Manorial style. It has no equal in New England."

At the end of the arcade was a wide vestibule, empty but for a round table supporting a large sculpture. The statue looked vaguely familiar to Grace: a young man standing over an older man, carrying away a protesting woman, all nude. Edward led her past the sculpture to a set of double doors. He pulled them open and ushered her into an enormous room that Grace, after spending several breaths taking it in, could only describe as an elaborate office.

Two stories high, three walls of the office were completely lined with lacquered bookshelves built into the stone walls of the house. A mezzanine separated the first floor from the second, running around the room and providing access to more stacks, while the center of the room was open to a coffered ceiling. In the center on the first floor was a magnificent desk that, oddly, did not seem to match the style of the rest of the house. Rather than the opulent, carved thing she might have imagined, it was a sleek, modernist slab of burnished wood supported by polished metal legs. The leather chair behind was similarly modern, in a cognac leather she rather liked. Beyond the desk was a sitting area around another fireplace, this one almost large enough to walk into. A wet bar worthy of a restaurant took up one corner, while the back of the room was entirely composed of floor to ceiling windows that let in the sunlight.

Edward brought her to one of the strange leather club chairs near the fireplace. Grace sat down, wondering what could possibly happen next.

"Can I get you anything, miss?" She shook her head no, and Edward nodded. "Mr. Lowell will be here presently." He took his leave without another word. She watched him go with odd trepidation: strange though he may be, after their brief but intense meeting Edward had become the most familiar thing about this place to her. He pulled the double doors shut behind him and she was alone again.