The solitude Grace had enjoyed before Helen’s visit and her parents’ return to their country estate for the rest of the summer had been a soothing balm to her soul after learning of Freddie’s death. She still hadn’t managed to make herself read his last letter—it seemed her guilt would always be a part of her—but now that the house was once again filled with people and with activity, she felt she’d soon be able to do so.
But not until after dinner that evening. She wasn’t sure she’d find the courage to engage in a light flirtation with Edward, especially in front of her parents, if she had to read another letter from Freddie about how much he was looking forward to returning home and spending his life with her. He’d always been upbeat in his correspondence, and while she’d known he must have faced horrors on a daily basis, it had never really occurred to her that he wouldn’t return. She’d always assumed he would somehow get over her breaking their engagement and they would find their way back to being friends. But he’d done the unthinkable and actually died. Edward’s revelation that it had been by Freddie’s own hand had horrified her. It was nearly impossible to reconcile the optimistic man she’d once known with the one who would sink so low in spirits that he would do such a thing.
No, it was better for now if she tried not to think about Freddie at all.
As expected, her father spent the day in his study meeting with the steward and catching up on all matters pertaining to the running of the estate. Her mother, as she always did after returning home from London, spent the day examining every room in the house before heading outside to do the same with the gardens. It was as though she expected everything to have fallen into a shambles during her absence and needed to reassure herself otherwise.
That left Grace and Helen to amuse themselves, and they did just that. Helen was determined that Grace look her best for dinner that evening and so embarked on a campaign to make over one of her own dresses so that it bordered on being scandalous.
Grace’s mouth dropped open in shock when Helen ripped out the seams of the lavender gown’s bodice and started pinning it quite a bit lower.
“Mama will never allow me to wear that in company,” she said with a grimace. “And even if she did, I don’t think I’d feel comfortable having so much of my bosom on display.”
Helen gave a heavy sigh as she removed the pins and adjusted the neckline again so it would fall somewhere between the original shape and the scandalous one.
“I think this might suffice. And you’re right, but it’s Papa you need to worry about. He wouldn’t care who was around—he’d send you right back upstairs to change. I’ve become so accustomed to living my own life away from them that I’d forgotten how protective they can be.”
Grace didn’t comment, but she did give silent thanks for that overprotectiveness. And she did insist on trying on the dress before her sister whisked it away to make the changes to the décolletage permanent.
Now, standing before the full-length mirror in Helen’s old bedroom, the one she still used when she returned home, Grace could see that Helen had been right. But her sister hadn’t just modified the neckline of the gown. She’d also narrowed the fabric that swept down from the bodice, making the dress skim over her figure in a way that was much more daring yet still on the proper side of decorum. Their parents, in particular Papa, wouldn’t be happy, but they wouldn’t put up too much of a fuss. Especially if she made sure to go downstairs after their dinner guest had arrived.
Helen’s eyes shone with excitement. “You look beautiful, Grace. Captain Hathaway won’t be able to hide his feelings from you tonight.”
“I hope you’re correct. If not…” She shuddered. “I don’t relish the idea of making a fool out of myself.”
“You won’t,” Helen said. “If you trust nothing else, believe that I know a few things about men.”
Remembering how her sister had had half the ton eating out of her hand during her one season in London, Grace clung to the belief that Helen might just be right.