Page 20 of Discovering Grace

"Mr. Barnes, when we were introduced, you said you were about to take up the position of local vicar, did you not?” Mr. Standish asked as he played. The ladies quieted their talk to turn to Jacob, Mrs. Standish with eyebrows raised. Grace regarded him with her usual gentle smile.

“I am.” He rearranged his hand after scowling at his cards a moment. “I look forward to my first day of sermonizing perhaps more than the community does.”

“Do you think it might prove a struggle, to be in such a position over people who have known you since childhood?” Mr. Standish asked. “Will they hold you in high regard, as befits a vicar? Or will they only see the person you have always been before?”

Mrs. Standish leaned forward slightly. “Oh, that is a good question. I had not thought on that.”

As Jacob had often wrestled with that very thought, he could at least answer it honestly and without hesitation. “I am certain it will be difficult for some, but with a little time they will grow accustomed to me in that position.”

Without raising her eyes from her cards, Grace spoke quietly. “It helps that Mr. Barnes has always held himself to a high moral standard. I cannot think of a single incident after he started school that might offend anyone. He is kind to others, too. His character is what every good man’s ought to be.” She laid down her next card and raised her gaze to meet his, her blue eyes sparkling at him. “I believe we have won this round.”

“Bad form, winning against a married couple.” Mrs. Standish giggled and marked their point on the slate for keeping score. “Eugene, you simply must learn how to signal me better if we are to win.”

Though they all laughed, and dealt the next hand, Jacob’s mind stayed on what Grace had said. He caught her eye again as he put down his first card and the tender look she cast him was the visual equivalent of her gentle praise. She had never spoken of his character like that before, at least within his hearing. That she held him in such esteem humbled him. There could not be a truer friend in his life than Grace.

Chapter 9

The previous evening’s card party, though begun with difficulty, Grace counted as a success. She spent most of her time in company with the Standishes and Jacob. Her father, never one to stay out late, had found them when he wanted to return home and had enough of a pleasant evening himself that he suggested Jacob and Grace go riding the next day.

“Hope needs more exercise than that pacing she does,” her father had said with an affectionate sigh.

For the first time since the disastrous accident, Grace fell into bed with hopes for a good night’s rest. But as her eyelids grew heavy, and her breathing deeper, a most unwanted thought tickled at her mind.

Why had Papa suggested that she and Jacob go for a ride? The party was one thing, but seemingly doing away with the punishment for Hope’s misbehavior all together struck her as odd. Unless her father had another motive.

Perhaps he wanted Jacob to be a more steadying influence upon Hope? He often lamented that Grace could not temper her sister fully. Did he think a future vicar had a better chance of such a thing? While that made a little sense, she kept poking at the thought with dissatisfaction. Jacob had always been a steady influence on his friends, but never Hope. There must be something else behind her father’s suggestion.

Grace tossed about in her bed for a time before the answer came.

Papa had never played at matchmaking before, but he as good as told the twins he wanted them both married, and soon, before the trip to the West Indies had even presented itself. Truly, the pressure had been mounting for quite some time. Insisting “Hope” spend time with Jacob, when he had been lecturing her for days about changing her ways, suggested that he thought Jacob Barnes might assist with that change.

The outing lost its charm as Grace laid in her sister’s bed, aware that Papa wanted Hope to settle down and marry their new vicar.

She might be wrong. But given her father’s frame of mind, his desire for Hope and Jacob to wed made perfect sense.

The night proved as restless as those that had come before it. When Grace finally climbed out of bed, she remained as tired as when she had entered it. Sitting before Hope’s dressing table, with Susan again marveling over how easily she coaxed her mistress’s hair into a stylish coiffure, all Grace saw in the mirror were the dark circles beneath her pain-filled eyes.

What made Hope such a better prospective wife than Grace?

Papa mostly ignored her at breakfast again, though with indifference rather than irritation. “How will you occupy yourself today?” He posed the question as he stood to leave the table, his newspaper folded and tucked under one arm, his spectacles in his study rather than upon his nose.

“I am not certain. I ride with Jacob in a few hours.”

Her father narrowed his eyes at her. “Try and be productive. If your sister were here, I am certain she would have any number of domestic things to see to.”

Grace agreed somewhat absently. If not for the need to act as Hope, she would have already met with Cook about preparing a special treat for her father. Hope rarely thought of such things. Yet now she had her father’s encouragement to act more naturally.

“I could speak to Cook.” She attempted to sound uncertain as she made the suggestion. “Perhaps put together a basket or two for a few families.”

“Splendid idea. Best get a move on if you are to accomplish anything before Mr. Barnes arrives.” He walked behind her chair and paused long enough to place a kiss upon her forehead. “You have all the makings of a fine lady, my Hope, if you will be attentive to the needs of others.”

Grace bit the insides of her cheeks. The softly given reprimand hadn’t really been given to her, after all. With her father gone, Grace threw away caution and added three of her favorite foods to her breakfast plate. Peppered eggs, a rasher of bacon, and baked apples. Hope favored sweeter foods at breakfast, but the richness of her sister’s preferred pastries made Grace’s stomach ache. With a morning ride ahead of her, she had no desire to feel as though she had swallowed mortar instead of more practical sustenance.

After eating as quickly as she could, and gulping down her cooling tea, Grace made her way to the kitchen to speak to Cook. As usual, Cook moved about her small dominion as busy as a bee. She flitted from sink to stove, hearth to table, with long steps and an air of impatience.

“Ah, Miss Everly.” She wiped her hands on her apron when she spied Grace in the doorway. “Did breakfast suit this morning, miss?”

“Yes, it was delicious. Thank you.” Grace came into the room, wondering how Hope might approach this situation. Likely with confidence, even though it was usually Grace or her mother who visited the kitchens. She tilted her chin upward and tried on one of Hope’s larger grins. “Papa is in need of some cheering. I thought you might prepare him something special.”