Grace (A Sinclair Society Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter Twelve

The idea that I might be disappointing Jonathan's friends was one that remained in my mind. Was I being insensitive in pursuing my own happiness? Should I have asked first? Ridiculous! Why should Mr. Harper care what I did with my time?

Was I overthinking the matter?

Still, I was troubled as I made my way to the cemetery. I hoped the bright, cheerful day would help lift my melancholy, but I was still distracted by the time I reachedJonathan's grave. I knelt down to leave my flowers and to pull some of the grass that had grown up too much around the stone.

"Is it selfish of me to move on?" I asked aloud. But Ihad pleased no one when I had remained grieving for the last five years.

Why was it I could please no one with anything I did?

The quiet cemetery had no answer for me. Sighing, I closed my eyes. It would be useless to wonder what Jonathan would say to me if he were here. If he were alive, I would not be conflicted about what was happening because it wouldn't be happening.

"Good day, Miss Anderson."

It was that maid. "Oh, Miss Nelson," I said, rising to my feet. "I was not expecting to see anyone here. You're kind to come so often."

"I am glad to do it as Miss Sinclair cannot." Her gaze moved to the gravestone. "Were you talking to someone just now? I thought I heard your voice."

I, too, looked down at the stone, mostly to hide my embarrassment. "Do you think it silly of me top talk as thought Jonathan were here? Of course I know he isn't and he cannot possibly hear me," I added hastily. There was no reason to make her wonder if my wits had cone wandering.

"I think," she said slowly, "we all find it helpful to talk things out at times. Even when there is no one to answer us."

Sighing, I shook my head. "I suppose there's something to that." If only I had been able to make up my mind.

She gave a slight laugh. "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"I can well believe that." I had never met such a blunt servant. She didn't have any qualms about speaking her mind. "You are the most forthright individual I have ever met, Miss Nelson."

"I take that as a compliment," she said with a smile.

Why did she suddenly look familiar when she smiled? I dismissed the thought as she stepped over to me. There were several moments of silence before I finally admitted, "I thought at first that Mr. Melbourne was one of those dandy gentlemen who go about without a care in the world. But he is nothing like that at all. He... Well, he reminds me if Jonathan at times."

"Do you have much experience with dandies then, Miss Anderson?" Miss Nelson asked, an odd note in her voice.

Oh, dear! Would she report to Miss Sincalir that I thought Jonathan had been a dandy? "Oh, not really," I said, trying to think of some way to explain what I meant. I clasped my hands together. "But my mother used to warn me against a young man who laughed too much. She always said such a man could not be depended upon to consider necessary things with the seriousness they require. I suppose, after time, I thought such a man was the same type a person as a dandy."

Jonathan hadn't been a dandy, but oh how he loved to laugh! His eyes had lit up and his laugh was one that would invite anyone near to laugh as well. Mr. Melbourhe's laugh was much the same. Whenever I heard it, I felt compelled to at least smile if not join in whatever amusement he had found.

"I see," Miss Nelson said gently. "Does Mr. Melbourne meet your parents' approval or is he too lighthearted for their taste?"

"My father likes him well enough. My mother, on the other hand..." How much did I dare confide in this kind but still unknown woman? "Well, my mother thinks his constant gaity uncalled for. My mother is of a more serious disposition, you understand."