CHAPTER 33

October 30, 1918

I’m sorry I haven’t written sooner, Grace. By now you know my Frank is gone. And with him my heart is too. I don’t know how I will go on without him. Or if I even want to. But for the sake of our unborn child, I have to try. Pray for me, Grace. For both of us.

Two weeks later, Grace sat in the park, trying to enjoy the beautiful summer day, yet her jumbled thoughts continued to create unrest in her mind. The Easton house had not been the same since Virginia’s elopement. Upon hearing the news, Mrs. Easton had collapsed and had taken to her bed, claiming she could never show her face in public again after another scandal. Dr. Ballard had checked on her daily, and each time he emerged from her room, shaking his head, saying there was nothing he could do. He believed her ailments were mostly psychological, rather than physical.

Grace had done her best to calm the woman, bringing Christian to her room for a period of time every afternoon in an attempt to bring her out of her dark mood. Yet nothing helped.

Mr. Easton had holed himself up at the office, coming home barely long enough to sleep and then go right back again the next day. Andrew too had thrown himself into his job. The only thing that seemed to bring him out of his despair was the time he spent with Christian each night. Grace would leave them alone, praying the child would soothe Andrew’s hurt at what he considered his sister’s betrayal.

What bothered Grace the most was his complete withdrawal from her—again. It was almost as if on top of her deceiving him about her identity, he resented her for not holding the same grudge against Virginia. But Grace saw no point in condemning her friend. If anyone could understand acting on impulse, it was Grace. And though she missed her greatly, she prayed Virginia and Collin would find happiness together and that someday the Easton family would be reconciled.

“Well, Christian, I suppose we’d best get back.” She smiled at the boy sitting on a plaid blanket on the grass. His chubby arms waved in the air as he reached for the rubber ball that had rolled away from him. He was getting so big now. Soon he would outgrow his pram, and she would have to find another way to continue their daily outings.

Grace attempted to ignore the ache in her chest, one that felt like it increased in intensity with each day that passed. In addition to the gloomy mood permeating the Easton household, Grace was haunted by the uncertainty of her future. Even if by some chance Andrew wanted her to continue as Christian’s nanny after the wedding, she simply couldn’t do it—no matter how much she dreaded being separated from Christian. The mere thought of sharing a house with Andrew and Cecilia, of having to witness Andrew’s married life with that woman, made her soul cry out in protest.

Yet how could Grace stand to lose contact with her nephew, her last tie to Rose?

She dashed useless tears from her eyes. In this time of turmoil, she had to trust God and remain steadfast in her faith that He would provide an answer for her. Even if she couldn’t imagine how.

“Good day, Miss Foley. Is everything all right?”

Grace looked up. Toby McDonald stood on the path near the bench she occupied. “Everything is fine, thank you.” She jumped up to retrieve Christian’s ball and hand it to the boy. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you. Might I have a word?”

For some reason, Grace’s heart began to thud loudly in her ears. Why would Toby seek her out like this instead of speaking to her at Fairlawn?

He must have noticed her bewilderment. “I wanted to be sure our conversation wasn’t overheard, and this seemed the best way.”

“Please have a seat.” Grace smoothed her skirts under her as she resumed her spot on the bench.

Toby sat at the opposite end.

“What can I do for you, Mr. McDonald?”

“For starters, you might call me Toby.” He removed his cap, then ran a hand through his hair, causing his flattened curls to spring back to life.

Was he nervous about something?

“Very well, Toby.” She sat with her hands folded.

“I wanted to talk to you about your plans now that Mr. Easton will be marrying and moving to Ottawa. Do you intend to go with them?”

Though he wasn’t looking directly at her, Grace sensed his tension, waiting for her response.

“No, I don’t.”

“Has he not asked you to stay on as wee Christian’s nanny?”

Grace shifted on the bench, averting her gaze to the baby on the blanket. How did she begin to explain the complex situation she now found herself in? “I imagine he wants Miss Carmichael to care for Christian once they”—her throat tightened—“once they’re wed.”

“I see,” he said quietly.

Grace didn’t dare look at him for fear her feelings about that would be visible on her face.

“So what do you intend to do then?”

“I suppose I’ll have to look for another post.”

“You won’t be heading back to England?”

“Not right away. But if I can’t find work, I’ll have no choice.”

He turned toward her on the bench. “I want you to know you have another option available.”

Christian let out a squawk of frustration. He’d rolled onto his stomach and pushed up on his knees, but could neither go forward or backward. Before Grace could react, Toby reached over to scoop him up and handed him to her.

“Thank you. He gets impatient when he can’t go where he wants.” She gave a nervous laugh and settled the boy on her lap.

She half hoped Toby would forget what he’d been about to say.

But he turned back to her. “I’ve admired you since the first day I met you, Grace. And if you ever found yourself in need, I would be more than happy to do whatever I could to help.”

She swallowed, not entirely sure what he was offering. “That’s very thoughtful.”

“What I’m trying to say, and doing a bad job of it, it seems, is that I’d be honored if you’d consider marrying me.”

Her mouth fell open. The blood rushed to her cheeks. “I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Now that Collin is gone, there’d be plenty of room in the apartment for the two of us. I know it’s not fancy, but we could fix the place up the way you like.” He paused to catch his breath.

For a brief moment, Grace considered what it would mean to marry Toby. To have someone to share her burdens—both financial and emotional. To have a means to stay in this country where she could keep tabs on Christian, even from afar, on how well he was doing with Cecilia Carmichael as a stepmother.

But that wouldn’t be fair to Toby because, though she liked him, her heart belonged to another.

She looked him in the eye. “I’m very flattered, Toby, truly I am. But I’m afraid I can’t marry you.”

He stared at her, the intense green of his eyes flashing like emeralds. “There’s someone else.” His flat tone indicated that he already knew the answer. That her refusal had only confirmed it.

She rose abruptly and laid Christian in the pram. “I’m sorry,” she said as she grabbed the ball and blanket from the grass. “But I really must be getting back.”

And before he could confront her about her feelings for Andrew, she set off down the path.