Grace (A Sinclair Society Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter Seven

I was grateful to have a few days of calm after the musicale. Oh, I went to the shops with Mother and also to the Pump Room. However, there was no sign of my would-be suitors so, for me, it was peaceful. I could go through the motions of living.

And that, I realized as I brushed my hair, was all my life had been since Jonathan died. I went through the motions. It was easy and didn't require any effort on my part. I was content, if not exactly happy with life.

"But how can I move on?" I whispered, staring at my reflection. "Where can I go?"

The idea of opening up my heart to another was terrifying. None of the gentlemen put forth by Mother inspired me to make such a move. If anything, they made me even more cognizant of how peaceful my current state of spinsterhood was.

My father was kind when he didn't annoy me by assisting Mother with matchmaking efforts. He gave me a generous allowance for all I could wish. My brother, though he would undoubtedly not supply such monetary means, would similarly be kind. His wife was sweet and I did not fear her displeasure if I would rely on them for a roof over my head.

And yet, such a future had loneliness in its picture.

"What do I want?"

Peace. Happiness. Love. All of that? More? I couldn't be sure. Maybe it was time to turn my attention to another and find a way to swallow my fear. But who could possibly compare with Jonathan?

Oh, dear. I rose from my dressing table and paced the room. Comparing everyone to a dead man wasn't the right thing to do, but at times I couldn't stop myself. My betrothed had been the perfect gentleman. Oh, he'd had his flaws—such as his tendency to be overprotective—but he had been a perfect match for me.

"If I keep this up, I shall be melancholy for the rest of the week," I said with a laugh. "And now I am talking to myself. Next thing I know, I will be sent to Bethlem Hospital for not being in my right mind."

I had found fault with every gentleman I'd met this past year, and I felt I had valid reasons for disliking each one. So, either I would have to lower my standards or accept being a spinster.

Neither option was at all appealing.

Rubbing my temples, I sat down. At least when I was content with my life, I was not plagued with so many questions and doubts. It was enough to give me a frightful headache.

At least I had made a start in changing my mind. I climbed into my bed and blew out my candle. Still, when I laid my head down, it was a long time before I could sleep.

****

Mrs. Forrester was gracious enough to play a duet with me. She said she used to the same when her sister was at home. It was a pleasant hour as we adjusted to playing with someone new. By the end, we were able to play together without mistake.

"Are you enjoying your time in Bath?" I asked as I helped her sort the music she had brought.

"Oh, well enough," she said with a sigh. "I thought I would like it more but all anyone seems to talk about is what so-and-so did or said. Gossip, gossip, gossip! I am sick and tired of it! Why can no one say anything even remotely interesting?"

With a laugh, I handed her the music. "Surely someone has made mention of dancing and shopping."

"Shopping was enjoyable the first day, but since then nothing has changed. It was much as it was at home."

"Miss Forrester, you sound positively melancholy," I said, sitting beside her. "Is it because you are disappointed by Bath? Or is it because there has been a lack of a certain gentleman in your company?"

A blush stained her cheeks. "There is no attachment between myself and Mr. Ward. He has been kind enough to pay me some attention, which I in no way expected. I could not be expected to be affected by whether he is here or not."