XIX

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"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear." C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

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XIX.

Grace's heart bled for Adam. And for Jack and Susanna. What a secret to be hiding, what a burden for Adam to carry all the while knowing that his father was to die an imminent and painful death.

To know he was in pain, and to know his exact pain, about killed Grace. It killed her that he had been suffering and she had not known until now how to help him. Even then, she did not know how to help. There was nothing she could do to prevent his pain. She could only understand it. And she wanted to let him know that she understood his pain, and that she would support and be there for him as he grieved.

Grace needed to speak to Adam alone. Never had she ever sought out to speak to a man alone before, but she needed to find a way now. If the duke was in bed, then he was not in his study. Adam had been spending every day shut away in there with his father, so she hoped that meant he was by himself.

Grace hurried back to the stairs and collected the material that she had left there, before walking swiftly back towards Lady Sarah's bedroom. What excuse could she make, she wondered?

Grace knocked on the door twice and heard Sarah call out for her to enter. Sarah was sitting at the writing desk, an unfinished letter before her, as she stowed the quill away.

"The material your mother ordered has arrived, milady," Grace reported, gesturing to the parcel in her hands.

"Oh, wonderful!" cheered Sarah, abandoning the desk as she came to receive the parcel. Grace placed it in her hands and Sarah brought it over to the bed to unwrap. She immediately made a sound of satisfaction as she lifted the first sample. It was a pale blue silk that looked as though it would be as soft as a lamb. "Beautiful!" she exclaimed. "What do you think, Denham?" she asked, holding the rectangle against her neck. "Does it suit me?"

Does the fabric that could be made into a gown to be worn by Adam's wife look nice? Grace had to swallow her first, second, and third thoughts before she managed to say, "Lovely, milady!" with a smile.

Sarah seemed satisfied with that answer as she picked up a satin that was a darker blue, cornflower blue. Grace's eyes narrowed. What had made Sarah make that choice?

"What do you think of this one?" she posed, holding it up against the lighter silk. "Cornflower blue is Lord Beresford's favourite colour, did you know? He told me so at a ball in London. He was being terribly coy as I asked if he appreciated the colour of my gown, and he said that he never appreciated any colour as much as he did cornflower blue. Other colours seemed dull in comparison. It is his favourite, and always would be." 

Grace almost felt like shielding her eyes. She knew that if Sarah held such a fabric up to her own complexion, that she would see the connection. But then, it was such an odd connection for anyone to make except for Grace. Adam had been the one to describe her eyes as the colour of cornflowers, and it warmed her terribly to know that even when they were estranged, he still cherished that connection.

She then realised that she had not responded to Sarah's story. "Oh, what an odd colour to enjoy," she stammered, before adding, "I prefer the paler silk. I don't think that is your colour, milady, if I may be honest."

Sarah pursed her lips, before nodding in agreement. "Yes, I think you are right, Denham," she replied. "I don't see the appeal. Perhaps I could send for some cornflowers to add to my bouquet?" she thought. "I wonder if they will be in season."

Grace could feel her calm temperament threatening to explode as she worried about Adam. Now that she knew the truth, worrying about flowers and dress colours seemed ludicrous. Sarah really knew nothing about Adam save for his favourite colour, and even then, such information had been shared after she had tried to seek a vain compliment from him.

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