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I spent a sleepless night, wondering where Mr. Melbourne had gone. Had he followed Miss Dunbar? Was there some other reason he stayed away? I also couldn’t get Mr. Ingram’s death out of my head.
My mother had a lot to say over breakfast but I didn’t hear a word. My emotions felt fragile and I was tired. By the time I escaped the house, I felt close to tears. A walk would do me good. At least, that was my hope.
“Miss Anderson.”
Hearing my name just moments after stepping onto the pavement came as a shock. I spun around to see Miss Nelson, dressed in a lovely blue gown, coming toward me. Her expression was one of concern.
“Oh, Miss Nelson,” I said, glancing at the door. Why should I feel nervous about being seen in her company? Mother knew nothing of her existence, so she couldn’t berate me for passing time with a servant. The thought made me straighten my shoulders. “I did not expect to see you again. I heard the Dunbars left town.”
“What has happened that has upset you?” she asked, in concern.
“It’s nothing,” I lied. Even to my own ears, my tone was far from convincing.
She tilted her head slightly and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “Come. Let us walk a bit,” she invited calmly.
There seemed no harm in that. I’d intended a walk anyway and had no specific destination in mind. She had been a patient listener before. We began to walk together and I hardly knew what direction we were going.
“I thought you would have left Bath with Miss Dunbar and her family,” I finally said to break the silence.
“Miss Dunbar dismissed me several days ago, so I did not leave with the family,” she said, waving a hand. She actually sounded as if it wasn’t a serious matter to have lost her position. “However, I don’t think my situation is what is concerning you so much.”
I hesitated. Miss Nelson may have been a kind listener but would she understand? She seemed to before. “There have been comments of late,” I said slowly. “Many are asking when I expect to be married and wonder how Mr. Melbourne managed to catch my attention.”
Miss Nelson gave a nod. “And you find this distressing.”
“Yes and no,” came my response. How to explain in a way that would be understood? “You must understand. I never expected to meet any gentleman who could possibly replace Jonathan in my heart. Jonathan Sinclair was the epitome of a gentleman. It almost feels like a betrayal to imagine a life without him.”
“Did you not say Mr. Melbourne reminded you of Mr. Sinclair?”
“Well, yes, but they are so different at the same time. Some of my acquaintances have made such disparaging remarks about how I have finally allowed myself to be courted; how he must be a paragon of virtue or incredibly wealthy to finally make me change my mind. I know Jonathan would have laughed it off but I’m not sure Mr. Melbourne will react with such composure. I didn’t think anyone would have made so much of the matter.”
“What do those closest to you say? Do they have the same opinion?”
“My father is delighted, though my mother has reservations,” I replied, which was putting it mildly and did not bear further explanation. “I am the last child at home and I know they have worried over whether I will secure my future or not. I simply cannot shake the feeling that I am betraying Jonathan by moving on.”
“I understand what you are saying,” Miss Nelson said, her tone kind. “But there is something you ought to consider. How would Mr. Sinclair feel? From what I know of him, he would be happy if you were happy. You’ve had time to mourn your loss, but he would turn over in his grave if he knew you were letting life pass you by because of him. Wouldn’t he?”
I couldn’t hold back a sigh. Her words were exactly what I had been telling myself. But just because she said it too didn’t necessarily make it right. “Yes, I suppose he would. I wish I could be certain I am making the right decision.”
“Miss Anderson, I owe you an apology and I hope you will forgive me,” she said abruptly. She reached for her reticule. “While I have been here, I have discovered letters Jonathan Sinclair wrote before he died, one of which I am certain was intended for you. I ought to have made more of an effort to put it into your hand. I am sorry I did not until now.”
She drew out a letter and all I could do was stare at it. One last letter? After so long? “A letter? For me? From Jonathan? How?” I questioned. How had she found these? Who had kept them these five years and not thought to deliver the letter to me? “Are you sure?”
Miss Nelson pressed it into my hand. “Forget what everyone else is saying or hinting at,” she said in a low voice. “They will talk about anything and everything without a care for how those involved feel. All that matters is your own thoughts and those closest to you.”
It took me a moment to do anything other than stare at her. “Yes,” I said, curling my fingers around the letter. The paper crinkled. “Yes, that is how I will look at the matter. If Mr. Melbourne is unable to endure a little silly gossip, then I shall know what to feel and do. Thank you, Miss Nelson. How is it that you are so wise?”
“Oh, I’m not wise. Let’s just say I have had to be practical often enough to be able to see clearly when others cannot.”
“You have set my mind at ease once again. I suppose you think I am silly.”
“Of course not.”
We reached the next street and I bid the woman good day. What a strange person she was but I was glad to have met her. She must have been a comfort to Miss Sinclair!
Though I was tempted to read the letter there and then, I slipped it into my own reticule. When I could be alone, I would read it.
****
IN CASE MOTHER DECIDED she needed to question me, I walked to the shop. I glanced over the ribbon selection without really seeing them. The girl in the shop offered to help me find what I was looking for, but I declined. Thankfully, another lady entered and I was able to slip out without any fuss.
I hurried home, unable to resist the letter any longer. “Grace, is that you?” I heard my mother call from the sitting room, but I didn’t pause to see if she had visitors. I went straight up to my room and closed the door behind me.
My hands shook as I removed my spencer jacket and bonnet. I tossed them onto my bed, resolved to put them away later, and pulled the letter from my reticule. I sat at my dressing table and unfolded the stiff paper.
The writing had faded a little but otherwise, it could have been written the day before. Seeing Jonathan’s hand again caused tears to well up. I had to blink them away because the writing was shaky in places and difficult to make out.
My dearest Grace,
If you are reading this, I fear I was not able to keep my promise to you of a future together. I can only apologize and hope you will be able to forgive me in time.
Meeting you changed my life. That sounds dramatic and exaggerated but it’s true. Before I had only thoughts of the present but suddenly, I found myself thinking of the future. We would have an estate in the country and only good things. With you by my side, we would have children. They would all have your eyes and maybe my hair. The girls would have your sweetness of character and the boys your loyalty.
It is your loyalty that compelled me to write this. I know you will be grieved and I’m afraid your sensitive nature will make you pull away from life. Please don’t. The thought of you giving up all hope for the future breaks my heart.
Find love again, Grace. Even if it can’t be with me, you deserve happiness and children and a home of your own. Be happy. I cannot write more but please know that to the end, I love you with all my heart and remain yours as long as I take in breath,
Jonathan
I was openly crying by the time I reached the end. It had clearly taken Jonathan a great deal of effort to write those words for me. Had he done it the night before he died? Had he feared for the worst? Why had it taken so long for the letter to find its way to me?
To the end, his concern had been for me. Miss Nelson had been right. Jonathan would be disappointed if I did not grasp happiness while I had the chance. I would be disappointing him by clinging to my grief any longer.
“Thank you, Jonathan,” I whispered. I brought the paper up to my lips for a kiss. “I will do as you ask.”
Solemnly, I folded the letter and moved to put it in my dressing table where I kept other notes Jonathan had slipped to me during our courtship. But then I paused. I didn’t need to keep them anymore.
My hands trembled a little as I collected all the notes. I knew them all by heart so I didn’t pause to reread them one last time. I carried them to the fireplace and knelt down. Without hesitation, I lit them on fire and watched them burn.
As the tiny flames turned the paper into ash, I slipped the locket ring from my finger. This was a bit harder. I’d worn it almost every day since Jonathan had given it to me, but it didn’t belong on my finger anymore.
I would find a way to send it to Jonathan’s sister.