CHAPTER 27
May 1, 1918
Dear Grace,
It’s official. You are going to be an aunt! Sometime in late November if the doctor is right. I pray Frank will be back in time to see his son or daughter come into this world. If only you could be here, Grace. I’d feel so much less alone.
Grace could not face Virginia. Not with a flood of tears dripping from her cheeks. She needed time to recover her equilibrium before she went back to the nursery.
Seeking the solitude of the garden, she slipped out the rear door and crossed the yard. Once within its sanctuary, she sank onto the fountain ledge and let the full extent of her despair pour out. Her shoulders heaved with the force of her sobs, so deep she could barely catch her breath.
Andrew had discovered her secret and he now despised her. Could barely stand to look at her. And when he did, the contempt in his blue eyes made her heart shrivel in her chest.
It was only a matter of time before he’d demand she pack her bags and leave. He’d already admitted he didn’t trust her. How could she ever think he would let her stay after her dishonesty?
If only she’d told him the truth before he found out.
She gulped in a huge breath, her tortured lungs expanding within her chest. She had no recourse left to her. All she could do was await his mercy—or his punishment—for her transgression.
Perhaps once Andrew’s anger cooled, he’d realize that she was right. That his father would never have let her near Christian if he’d known her true identity. And that she hadn’t lied for any harmful purpose, only to honor Rose’s request.
Are you certain of that? Her conscience nagged her with a fresh sense of guilt.
If her intentions were completely honorable, she’d never be entertaining the idea of taking Christian from the Eastons.
No, not from the Eastons. From Cecilia Carmichael’s harmful influence.
Grace twisted the limp handkerchief between her fingers. If Andrew was planning to marry a kind woman, one who actually cared about Christian, she’d have no qualms leaving the baby in their care. But she couldn’t risk Cecilia inflicting severe emotional damage on the boy with her cold indifference.
Lord, I need your help. I’m in a terrible predicament, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Above her, the birds continued to twitter in the trees, oblivious to her distress. If only she had such a carefree existence and could fly away from all her problems. But she couldn’t. She’d have to be brave and face the consequences of her lies. She dried her eyes, took a deep breath, and got slowly to her feet. All she could do was pray for forgiveness and see what God—and Andrew—had in store for her next.
The next morning, Andrew knocked reluctantly on Grace’s bedroom door. He’d spent several agonizing hours trying to decide what to do with the knowledge of her true identity. His heart and his pride still stung at being taken in by her deception, but despite everything she’d done, he knew she loved the boy as much as he did. And in the end, he found he simply couldn’t stomach the idea of ripping one more maternal figure from Christian’s life.
Grace answered after a few seconds, adjusting the sleeve of her blouse. Her hair flowed in a shining mass over her shoulders.
He swallowed hard and focused on her chin. “I won’t take much of your time. I wanted to let you know my decision.”
“Very well.” She clasped her hands in front of her.
“For Christian’s sake, I’ve decided to keep your secret—for now.”
Relief crashed over her features, and she bit her bottom lip.
“But know that I’ll be watching your every move. If you give me the slightest provocation, I won’t hesitate to terminate you.”
“I understand.” She opened her mouth, closed it again. “Thank you, Andrew.”
He flinched at the use of his name. She didn’t deserve such intimacy, not after her betrayal. “From now on, you should address me as Mr. Easton. I’ve allowed too much familiarity with a staff member.”
She winced as though he’d slapped her. “As you wish,” she whispered, hurt shining from her eyes.
He hardened himself to the pain on her face, yet he couldn’t seem to force his feet to move away. When she closed her door with a soft click, he shoved his regrets down deep and headed for the stairs.
As he descended to the foyer, his thoughts turned to Cecilia, and it struck him with astounding force that perhaps she’d been right about Grace all along, and he’d been too blind to see the truth. He’d built Grace up in his mind and his heart as a paragon of virtue. The perfect woman. But it had been nothing more than an illusion, a figment of his imagination. Grace was just as flawed as Cecilia.
At least Celia didn’t try to hide who she really was. For all her faults, Andrew knew exactly where he stood with her.
Seated in the Carmichaels’ sitting room, Andrew drummed his fingers on his thighs, trying to dispel his restless energy. Mrs. Carmichael’s haughty white cat stared at him from her perch on the back of the sofa as though daring him to invade her territory.
In a strange way, discovering Grace’s true nature had set Andrew free. His daydreams were over. He was back to reality. Without the false hope of a possible life with Grace, he could finally take the steps necessary to secure his future.
After coming to a decision at last, Andrew had already spoken with Mr. Carmichael this morning in his study. Now he waited while Cecilia got dressed. He should have realized she wouldn’t be up and ready at this early hour. Another aspect of her life that would have to change once they were wed. Andrew was an early riser. Lying in bed until noon, wasting half the day away, didn’t sit well with him.
“Goodness, Andrew. What are you doing here at the crack of dawn?” Cecilia came into the room with a swirl of her skirt. Her blond hair lay loose over her shoulders.
“Nine o’clock is hardly the crack of dawn.” He rose to greet her with a kiss on the cheek.
“It is on a Saturday.” She took a seat on the sofa and gestured for him to sit.
“I wanted to speak with you before I go into the office.”
She groaned. “Honestly, Andrew, must you work every Saturday? It’s called the week end for a reason.”
“Funny, I always thought you admired my ambition.”
She passed a hand over her forehead. “I have no wits for sparring this early. What is it you want?”
He rubbed his damp palms on his thighs. “I’ve spoken with your father, and he has given me his blessing to speak to you today.”
Sudden interest brightened her eyes. “Does this mean what I think it does?”
“It might—provided you can allay my one concern.” He held her gaze.
“Christian.”
“Yes. I need to know you can accept him as part of our family.”
Her lashes swept down. “I understand how much he means to you, and I promise to try harder where he is concerned.”
Andrew nodded. It was a start, one that would surely grow with time. He reached into his pocket. “As long as we’re clear, then I believe I can give you this.” He opened the box and took out the ring—a family heirloom passed down from his grandmother—which sparkled under the lights.
Eyes wide, she pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Though I can’t promise you romantic babblings or false words of love, I can promise to be a loyal and dedicated husband, if you’ll have me.”
“Oh, Andrew.” Her lip quivered as she moved closer. “Of course, I’ll marry you.” She held out her hand, and he slid the ring onto her finger.
His chest tightened at the sight of it on her hand. Would his grandmother approve of his decision? She was a woman who had done whatever she deemed necessary to secure their family’s position in society. Surely she, of all people, would understand his actions.
Celia reached over to press a kiss to his lips. He tried to put some effort into the embrace, but her eyes clouded over as they parted, proving he hadn’t done a very convincing job. He prayed that in time his feelings would strengthen.
He rose from the sofa and walked to the fireplace, where a low ember burned. “There’s another matter we need to discuss. My father has put me in charge of a new hotel we’re opening in Ottawa. Which means we’ll have to move there once we’re married.”
“How marvelous.” She came up beside him at the mantel.
“So you wouldn’t be opposed to living so far from your family?”
She hesitated, then lifted her chin. “A wife’s place is with her husband. Besides, we’ll have lots of time to figure out the details.”
“Not exactly. I’m needed in Ottawa by early September. Your father wants the wedding to take place before then so you can come with me.”
“That soon?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” He took her hand. “Is it enough time for you to prepare?”
He could almost sense the wheels turning in her head as she considered her options. “I think it will be, as long as the date is available at the church.”
“What about your dress? The flowers?” What else did a bride need?
“Mother and I have been preparing for my wedding for years.” She gave a light laugh. “Besides, if I can pull off a gala at your hotel in mere weeks, a wedding shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll be married at the end of August, which will give us time for a honeymoon before our move.” Instead of easing, the band of pressure across his chest increased.
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “You’ve made me so happy, Andrew. You won’t regret this, I promise.”
As he drew her close, Andrew did his best to push aside all doubts. For now, he would take consolation in Celia’s joy, and strive to put Grace’s face out of his mind—once and for all.