CHAPTER 40

April 14, 1919

Dearest Grace,

You’re coming at last! You don’t know how happy I am! Mrs. Gardiner has assured me you’re welcome to stay here until we find a place of our own. I know once you’re here, I’ll finally feel whole again. Able to regain my strength and become the woman God meant me to be. Safe travels until we meet again. . . .

One week after leaving Fairlawn for the last time, Grace pushed the supply cart down the aisle of Holy Trinity Church, its wheels rattling over the wooden floors. The comforting scent of flowers and candle wax washed over her. When Reverend Burke had learned that she wanted to stay on in Toronto for a while, he’d been kind enough to give her part-time hours cleaning the church and the rectory until she could find a permanent job.

She paused to gaze up at the stained-glass windows, her focus resting on the one with Mary holding baby Jesus.

This was the time of day Grace would have taken Christian on his daily outing to the park. Where she would sit with him on the swings and play with him in the grass. Her heart ached with missing the boy—and with missing Andrew.

The utter disillusionment in Andrew’s eyes that night by the fountain still haunted her. The only positive outcome from the whole fiasco was that Cecilia Carmichael was now out of Christian’s life for good. It seemed Andrew had finally realized the woman was not right for them. Unfortunately, that realization had come too late for Grace, but at least she had the comfort of knowing Andrew would always take good care of her nephew.

Her thoughts turned to her mother and the unfinished letter that lay on the desk in the boardinghouse. Each time she started writing, she couldn’t find the words to explain why she wouldn’t be bringing Christian home. That he would be staying in Toronto, and she’d likely never get to meet her only grandson.

Once again, Grace had failed her mother.

Another reason why she was in no rush to return home.

With a sigh, she pulled the cloth from the cart and began to polish the wooden pews. Focusing on her task of making the Lord’s house shine was the only way she could free her mind from regrets and recriminations, and in some small way allowed her to feel like she was giving back for the grace and mercy she’d received.

When she was about halfway through, she looked up to see Reverend Burke coming toward her, with Mrs. Chamberlain following close behind. Grace slowly straightened, a chill of foreboding running up her spine. From the grim look on their faces, it appeared they had unpleasant news.

She wiped her hands on her apron and went to meet them. “What is it? Something’s wrong, I can tell.”

Mrs. Chamberlain pulled a piece of paper from her handbag. “This telegram just arrived for you, dear. Ian Miller delivered it himself. I figured it must be important, so I came right over.”

Grace froze. Telegrams usually meant bad news. Her hands shook so hard, she stuffed them in her apron pocket. “C-Could you read it for me please, Mrs. C.?”

“Are you sure, dear?”

She nodded.

“All right then.” She opened the envelope and unfolded the paper within. “Your mother has taken a turn for the worse. STOP. You need to come home ASAP. STOP. Violet.”

Grace gripped the back of a pew. Mum must be on her deathbed for Aunt Vi to spend money on a telegram. The words of her mother’s last letter sprang to mind, infusing her with fresh guilt. Don’t wait too long like you did with Rose. I may not be here when you return. If only Grace could bring Christian home with her. Seeing her grandson might give Mum the incentive to get well. Without him, she had little left to live for.

Mrs. C. came forward to embrace her. “I’m so sorry, Grace. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Tears stung the back of Grace’s eyes, but she held them back with stubborn determination. “Not really. Except I’ll need to book my passage home to England.” As the words left her mouth, a pang of sorrow squeezed her chest. Leaving Toronto meant severing her last ties with Christian—and with Andrew. She’d likely never see either one of them again. She bit down on her bottom lip and blinked hard.

“Why don’t you come to my office?” Reverend Burke said gently. “I can help you make the arrangements.”

Grace took a deep breath and nodded.

“I’ll stay here and say some prayers for your mother,” Mrs. C. said. “When you’re ready, we’ll go home together.” She gave Grace another hug.

For a few brief seconds, Grace soaked in the comfort of her embrace, then turned and followed the minister out of the sanctuary.

Fifteen minutes later, Revered Burke hung up the receiver. “The tickets will be held for you at the train station. You can pick them up whenever you’re ready, or wait until the day of departure. Whatever’s more convenient.”

Grace had taken his advice to sail out of New York, rather than Halifax, since a ship was leaving in four days.

“Thank you, Reverend. I only hope I can make it home in time to see Mum again.” She twisted her hands together. “Long enough to grant me her forgiveness at last.” Maybe then Grace would finally have the peace that had eluded her for so long.

The minister frowned. “What is it you think you need forgiveness for?”

Grace shook her head. “For so many things.” Quietly, she relayed the story of Peter’s death, which had led to her father’s demise. “I came here to bring Rose back, hoping to make it up to Mum by doing so, but I was too late. Now I’ve failed again with Christian.” Silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed them away.

Reverend Burke came around to sit in the chair beside her. “Do you believe in God’s forgiveness, Grace?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, of course.”

“Then that’s all that truly matters. Knowing that God has forgiven you for everything.”

“I know He has.” She sighed. “I just wish Mum could forgive me too.”

He waited until she lifted her head to meet his kind gaze. “Only God can change a person’s heart, Grace. All we have control over are our own feelings and actions.” He gave her arm a light squeeze. “Perhaps you’ve been seeking forgiveness in the wrong place. Perhaps, my dear, it’s time to forgive yourself.”

Andrew waited in the Carmichaels’ parlor for Cecilia to come downstairs. He hadn’t spoken to her since their wedding day, and though he dreaded it, he owed her a more formal apology. Technically, they were still engaged, and until they had a candid conversation, Andrew wouldn’t be able to close that chapter of his life and move forward.

Forward to what, he didn’t know. His future yawned before him like a gaping chasm.

Too restless to sit, he walked to the large window that overlooked the front yard. The first signs of fall could be seen in the changing of the leaves. Soon the street would explode with color—vivid yellow, red, and orange. It was ironic that the changing of the seasons seemed to mirror a change within Andrew as well. Ever since Grace had left Fairlawn, he’d felt a subtle shifting inside, as though nothing in his life made sense anymore.

He should be furious that Paul Edison had already moved to Ottawa to oversee the new hotel, yet all he felt was mild disappointment. As for Cecilia, he bore her no ill will. Instead, he sympathized with her position. It couldn’t have been easy to face all those guests and explain why the wedding was cancelled. Her pride would have been severely damaged, which was partly why he’d given her time to nurse her wounds before confronting her.

“Hello, Andrew. I wondered how long it would be before you came.”

He turned to find Cecilia standing in the doorway. She looked as beautiful as ever in a striped dress, her blond hair perfectly coiffed. But instead of the icy expression he’d expected, there was softness about her features he hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“I should have come sooner.” He walked toward her. “Though nothing I say can make up for it, I want you to know I’m sorry for what happened, and I deeply regret hurting you.”

She gave him a long look. “But you’d do it again if the circumstances were repeated, wouldn’t you?” The statement held no hint of condemnation.

He hesitated, wishing he could dispute her claim, but he couldn’t lie. “Yes.”

“I thought so.” She moved to the sofa and sat on the edge, smoothing her dress over her lap.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t feel terrible. It’s just that Christian’s welfare—”

“—comes first. I know.” She studied him without calculation, also something new.

Andrew had been prepared to receive the full brunt of her outrage. This calm, composed Celia left him flummoxed.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking since that day, Andrew, and I’ve come to some important realizations about myself.” She lifted her eyes to his. “I need a husband who will dote on me. One who puts my needs first—something you haven’t been able to do.” She held up a hand to halt his response. “Secondly, though it might sound selfish, I really don’t see motherhood in my future, and since I know how much having a family means to you . . .” she gave a delicate shrug. “I feel it would be best to part ways.”

This was the last thing he’d expected. Tears, threats, ultimatums, yes, but a quiet surrender? This was not the Cecilia he knew. His gaze moved to the bare fingers on her left hand and back to her face.

She reached into the drawer of a side table and drew out a small box, then rose. “I’m returning your ring. You should have it back since it’s a family heirloom.” She held it out to him.

Frowning, he took the box, opened it to see his grandmother’s ring inside, and snapped it shut. “I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s for the best really. I doubt we would have made each other happy in the long run.” She laid a hand on his sleeve. “You deserve someone who will love you for who you are, not who they want you to be. Someone who can give you the family you want.” She arched a brow. “Someone like your nanny perhaps?”

The words seared through his chest like a knife. “Grace is not Christian’s nanny anymore. Not since she took him.”

“But she brought him back. That should count for something.”

“It doesn’t erase her crime. I could never—we could never trust her again.”

Cecilia turned to face the fireplace. “I can’t help feeling this is my fault.” She sighed. “The night before the wedding, I went to see Grace.”

“I know. She told me the next morning. She also told me that you would never accept Christian as your son. That you threatened to send him to boarding school.”

Cecilia whirled around. “She did? And you were still willing to marry me?”

He shrugged, not proud of his blindness where Grace or Cecilia was concerned. “I told her I’d never let you do that. And I wouldn’t have.” The clock on the mantel chimed the hour. He took in a breath. “Since we’re being honest, I should tell you my chauffeur came to inform me that you offered to pay him to seduce Grace. I suspect framing Grace for stealing your necklace was your backup plan.”

Guilt slid over Celia’s features, and she hung her head. “I’m sorry, Andrew. It’s just that I was desperate. . . .”

“It doesn’t excuse what you did.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Cecilia lifted her chin, a bit of her sass returning. “So is that the reason you came? To tell me what a horrible person I am?”

“To hold you accountable, yes. And to resolve matters between us.”

A resigned expression settled over her features. “Well, consider yourself relieved of your obligation to me. You’re free to do whatever you want with your life. As am I.” She twisted a curl around one finger, avoiding his gaze.

He stared at her profile, her conciliatory attitude making sudden sense. “It sounds as though you’ve already made plans.”

“As a matter of fact, I have.” She walked to the window and pushed aside the curtain. “Paul Edison has asked me to marry him . . . and I said yes.”

Heat blasted through Andrew’s chest as old feelings of resentment rushed to the surface. “Are you doing this to punish me?”

She let the curtain fall as she turned back. “I never understood the rivalry between you, but no, Andrew. This has nothing to do with revenge and everything to do with love.”

His mouth fell open. “You love him?”

“Is that so hard to believe when you’re obviously in love with Grace? And don’t bother to deny it. I think I knew before you did, which is why I was so determined to get rid of her. Now I understand the futility of trying to control another person’s emotions. Paul helped me see that.” She gave a rueful smile. “Once I got over my wounded pride, I found I was actually relieved the wedding never took place. So you see, in reality, you did me a favor.”

Andrew shook his head, unable to fully comprehend the complete change in her demeanor.

“Paul loves and accepts me for who I am, which is a rare gift. If you’ve found that with Grace, don’t let a mistake on her part rob you of the life you could have together. No one is perfect, not even her.”

Andrew remained silent, unable to deny the truth of her words. Grace had always accepted him for exactly who he was. Her admiration had made him feel like he was the man God had intended him to be. But was it enough for him to ignore what she’d done?

He scrubbed a hand over the new growth of beard and nodded slowly.

Cecilia gave him a small smile. “Don’t overanalyze the issue, as you tend to do.” She raised herself on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “May you find happiness, Andrew.”

“Thank you, Celia. I hope you’ll be happy too.”

As Andrew left the Carmichael estate, his thoughts swirled in his head like the leaves blowing about his feet. Before he could come close to making any decisions about his life or his future, there was a long-overdue stop he needed to make.