Grace (A Sinclair Society Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter Seventeen

"Grace?" The door of my bedroom opened. A moment later, Mother was in my room and asking, "What are you doing? Didn't you hear me call you earlier? Mrs. Forester was here with her grandson."

Holding back a laugh, I straightened up and turned to face her, though I couldn't meet her gaze. "I'm sorry I missed them," I said. "I had an excellent walk. The weather is very fine today."

"Grace, have you been crying?" Mother stepped closer. "Goodness, what happened? Did you see that young man again?"

"If by 'young man' you mean Mr. Melbourne, I regret that I did not," I said, lifting my chin. "I simply read a letter that took longer to reach me than it should have. I am well, I assure you."

 "Letter?" Mother repeated in confusion. "What letter? I don't remember there being a letter for you this morning. Did your sister write? Did it contain bad news? Why did it make you cry? Let me see it."

I held up my hand. Jonathan's letter was personal and I had no intention of explaining what it had contained. "Even if it were from one of my sisters, which it was not, it was a private letter. And I don't have it anymore." I cast a glance at the fireplace, where the last of the paper was crumbling.

"Grace, this behavior is alarming. Why did you burn the letter?"

Somehow, even though she had shown some comfort before, I wasn't sure she would understand now. "Because I read it and it did not need to be read again." I moved to put the locket ring in the drawer of my dressing table. "Did Miss Forester not accompany her grandmother today?"

"She did not." When I turned, Mother was frowning at me. "I thought it prudent not to ask why. Grace, do not think you can avoid my question. What was in the letter to upset you so? Why did you burn it?"

"As I said, it did not need to be read again. Does it matter? I am an adult, Mother, and I can make my own decisions."

From the hallway, a maid cleared her throat. "Excuse me, ma'am," she said. "Mr. Melbourne is in the sitting room. Mr. Forester asks that you and Miss Grace come down."

He'd come! And just in time to save me from my mother's inquisition. "We'll be right down," I said before Mother could say a word. "Thank you, Sally."

The maid nodded and backed away. "Well," Mother said with a huff. "I suppose the man just will not listen to reason. I thought we would finally be rid of him."

"Just because he stayed away for a couple of days?" I leaned down to check my appearance in the mirror. My eyes appeared puffy but not too awful. If I patted my cheeks with cool water, I could calm the blotchiness brought on by crying.

I was so concerned with my appearance it took me a few moments to realize what Mother's first sentence had been. "What do you mean he 'will not listen to reason?'" I asked, twisting around to look at her.

She had the decency to flush. "I may have had a few words with him the other day. I thought I had made our position clear."

  "You mean your position," I corrected, closing my eyes. Would she never accept Mr. Melbourne? "What did you say to him?"

 "I merely suggested he consider what his intentions were so that he does not waste his time or our time," Mother said, raising her chin. "You said yourself he has not spoken of the future to you."

It was worse than I thought. "Mother, why do you embarrass me like this?"

 "I embarrass you? You have the matter backward! I am not the one entertaining the attention of a gentleman who has shown no serious intentions."

I bit my tongue to keep from arguing with her. I could not reason with her, and I was tired of trying. I was old enough to decide for myself who I married, and I knew I had Papa on my side.
"We cannot keep our guest waiting," I said, striding to the door.