Grace (A Sinclair Society Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter Four

The next morning the maid brought a card up to me and informed me that a gentleman was there to see me. Mother had already gone to the draper's shop. Seeing the name made me smile and I went down immediately.

Seeing Mr. Oswyn Harper in my mother's sitting room took me back five years. How many times had he accompanied Jonathan on visits to my home and acted as a chaperone of sorts? He had been so patient as a third person.

"This is a surprise," I said with a smile. I held my hand out as I crossed the room. I made sure to leave the door open so no one could jump to erroneous conclusions. "I didn't think you intended to come to Bath this season."

"Well, life is never what we expect," he said. His eyes were serious as he studied me. "You look pale, Miss Anderson. Are you well?"

His concern was easier to take than Miss Dunbar's assumptions. "I assure you, I am well." I gestured for him to sit across from me. "I do feel it is only fair to warn you that my mother is determined to see me married. If you remain here long enough, you may find yourself a victim of her matchmaking scheme."

For a moment, his expression was alarmed. "Any man who manages to win your hand will be a fortunate man," he valiantly said. "But I do appreciate the warning."

"Will you be in Bath long?" For as long as I had known him, he had always visited and left, coming and going as he needed.

"I'm not sure." He hesitated and then leaned forward. "Do you feel up to talking about Jonathan Sinclair? I have been thinking about him a great deal this season. I've been trying to recall who else would have known him."

Mrs. Forrester's understanding had been a relief, but here was someone who had known Jonathan. He had been a close friend! This week had started off so ill and was now becoming even better than I could have imagined.

"There aren't many left in Bath," I said, folding my hands in my lap. "I would be delighted to speak about Jonathan."

"Do you remember who else he passed his time with?"

That was an oddly specific question. "No one really stands out in my mind. Besides, Mr. Ingram, of course."

Though our paths crossed occasionally and he was welcomed everywhere, Mr. Ingram was not someone I had ever liked. I hadn't been interesting enough to draw his attention, thank goodness. It was a miracle Mother hadn't even attempted to match me with him.

Perhaps she had heard all the unsavory rumors?

"Melbourne shadowed my friend many times too, as I recall," Mr. Harper said. He shook his head. "He's in Bath at the moment, though I believe he spends the majority of his time on his father's estate."

Oh, yes. I did remember the gentleman. He was my age and had struggled to find his way in society. Jonathan had taken him under his wing and shown him about. "The brother he never had," I said, recalling the affectionate phrase.

"Do you remember Sinclair ever exchanging cross words with anyone? I think he must have befriended everyone he met."

I smiled, surprised that the memory didn't cause a rush of grief or sadness. "Oh, he was like that, wasn't he? He never met a stranger, and I never heard him raise his voice." But that last day...

"What's wrong? Have you remembered something?" Mr. Harper's voice sharpened.

"The last time he was with me, there was something troubling him," I said honestly. I'd forgotten about it in the wake of Jonathan's death. "He wouldn't tell me what was wrong. Perhaps he was simply ill and didn't want to worry me."

Mr. Harper nodded, though he continued to frown. "I recall your father mentioning something of the sort when I brought the news. I suppose it would be impossible to discover the truth now."