Page 9 of The Spinster's Resolve

H eather and Mrs Merriweather awaited her in the morning room, their usual tasks abandoned in their eagerness to hear what had transpired.

‘Well?’ they asked in unison.

Grace recounted everything, carefully omitting her more embarrassing reactions. It would do no good for Heather to hear what a fool she had made of herself—she could not bear the inevitable teasing.

‘So, he wants you to work there?’ Heather mused. ‘But how will you manage with your disguise? I mean, your face... it’s already melting.’

Grace shot her a glare. ‘Which is why I said I would think about it, Nimrod! I couldn’t say no at the time because... well... I couldn’t think of a way to refuse. How should I do so now?’

‘Just send him a letter declining the offer,’ Mrs Merriweather suggested. ‘Or perhaps you could claim you are not well enough?’

Heather, however, had a different view. ‘Why can’t you work there?’

‘Because it is too dangerous. It could be a trap. We don’t know who else is involved in all this,’ Mrs Merriweather said firmly, voicing Grace’s own concerns. ‘We know next to nothing about Mr Stone. He could be working with Gibbs or his associates. If he is, then Grace is walking straight into a viper’s nest! Even if he isn’t, we don’t know who else might be behind the kidnappings. There could be a whole gang operating out of Skye Estate—she could get snatched on her way there!’

Heather shrugged. ‘I don’t think Mr Stone is working for Gibbs. If he were, he would have poisoned Grace’s tea already.’

Grace shook her head at her sister’s casual assessment of murder.

Mrs Merriweather huffed, unimpressed. ‘Or perhaps he is waiting for the right moment.’

The room fell into silence. The fire crackled in the hearth, but its warmth did nothing to ease the sudden chill in Grace’s spine.

‘I suppose it is possible that he is covering for Gibbs’s friends or even the mastermind in London,’ Heather conceded. ‘All the more reason to watch him closely. And what better opportunity than this? Do not forget, Taylor and Jimmy will be there to protect her.’

Mrs Merriweather scoffed. ‘Taylor and Jimmy could not protect themselves against a mouse, let alone fight off a gang of kidnappers.’

‘You are forgetting that whoever is behind this is only kidnapping young or pretty girls,’ Heather pointed out. ‘All Grace has to do is keep her disguise on to avoid attention. Maybe Betty can improve it. And what about the missing girls? Melissa? And the tenants? Are you just going to leave their fate in the hands of this unknown Mr Stone? If you work with him, you can spy on him—make sure he is not involved. Maybe even find evidence against Gibbs and his accomplices. Besides, what if Mr Stone is exactly who he says he is? What if he is a Bow Street Runner?’

Grace bit her lip, considering Heather’s words. The idea of working with Mr Stone was proving more tempting than she had initially thought. But his sharp, piercing gaze held her back. The thought of enduring his scrutiny again was unsettling.

Heather saw her hesitation and pressed on.

‘Besides, we could do with the money, couldn’t we? What if you earned enough for us to have a season in London?’

Grace blinked in surprise. Heather had not spoken of such a thing since the letter. Was this sudden interest because she still wished to see Mr Smith?

‘Oh, Squirrel,’ Grace said gently. ‘No stewardship post will earn nearly enough for a London season. We would need a sponsor—someone to introduce us to society. And I’m afraid we simply do not have the connections, my love. Not to mention the dance lessons you need beforehand.’

The disappointment on Heather’s face wrenched at Grace’s heart. In that moment, she felt as if she had failed her sister.

Mrs Merriweather, sensing Heather’s motives, added, ‘Miss Heather, Mr Smith is getting married. You need to forget about him.’

Heather looked as though she might cry. ‘I know. You are right. He did not love me enough to fight for me. I want to find someone who will love me—someone who will choose me. But here, in this isolated place, there is little hope for that. No matter, I shall be content with Garlic and Ginger. I shall try my best to forget him and be myself again,’ she finished with a weak laugh.

‘Perhaps we can go to Bath,’ Mrs Merriweather suggested. ‘I hear the assemblies there are all the rage.’

Heather attempted a smile, but her spirit remained subdued. ‘Bath is where elderly and sick people go...’

For the remainder of the day, Grace could not shake her unease. Guilt weighed heavily on her—for not doing more for the tenants, for Melissa, for the other missing girls, and, more acutely, for letting Heather down. The conversation from earlier lingered in her mind, each unspoken hope and disappointment pressing on her heart.

After dinner, Heather was quieter than usual. When she asked to retire early—something she rarely did—it only confirmed Grace’s suspicion that Heather was beginning to truly understand the sacrifices they were forced to make because of their circumstances.

SITTING IN THE DRAWING room, Grace found it impossible to shake the restless thoughts swirling in her mind. She needed to clear her head, so she decided to seek out Mrs Merriweather, who often spent time with the others in the kitchen. The barriers of station had blurred since moving to the cottage, and sure enough, when Grace entered the kitchen, she found a charming scene: Johnson, Jimmy, Betty, and Mrs Merriweather sitting around the large kitchen table, a cheerful fire casting a cosy glow across the room.

As soon as Mrs Merriweather saw Grace, she rose, her expression softening.

‘Is there something you need, Miss Grace?’

‘Oh no, please sit, Mrs M. I would love to join you, if you do not mind?’

‘Mind?’ Mrs Merriweather laughed, waving her hand as Jimmy quickly pulled up a chair for her. She eyed Grace, her gaze full of concern. ‘What’s the matter, petal? You look worried.’

Grace pressed her fingers to her temples, exhaling sharply. She had kept these thoughts bottled up for so long, refusing to acknowledge them fully, but now, surrounded by warmth and familiar faces, the weight became unbearable.

‘Oh, Mrs M...’ Her voice wavered. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them. ‘I have failed Heather. She deserves a chance at love, at a family... but I have given her nothing.’ She flailed her arms in defeat. ‘Heather is right—she has very little chance of meeting anyone here, and we do not have the resources even to take her to Bath, though she disliked the idea.’

Grace paused, shoulders sagging as she looked upward. ‘Maybe I should not have been the one to look after her. I have muddled everything! Mama and Papa would be disappointed in me.’

Though Grace was not usually one to show emotion in front of others, the tears escaped anyway, much to her own surprise. She dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.

Johnson, who had been silent up to that point, tried to reassure her. ‘Ah, Miss Grace, you can’t be so hard on yourself. It has been difficult for you too, has it not? You’ve had to fight many challenges. Honestly, I think you’ve done a damned fine job!’ The others nodded in agreement.

Betty, a tender soul who could not bear seeing others upset, hurried to Grace’s side with a blanket, unsure what else to do to relieve her distress. Grace sniffed as Mrs Merriweather, ever the steadying influence, handed her a handkerchief.

‘Dry your tears, my dear. You are very far from a failure, and Miss Heather knows this—we all do. Besides, when did you ever let a little adversity stop you? Remember what your mother used to say? “When you can't change the direction of the wind, adjust your sails.” I am sure, together, we can come up with a solution.’

A small smile flickered across Grace’s lips, and for a moment, the warm memory of her mother soothed her. ‘It is not just Heather,’ she admitted, her voice faltering. ‘I feel guilty about the tenants and the missing girls. Poor Melissa vanished under our watch. I should be doing more for them.’ Her heart sank under the weight of it all. ‘I could do more if I helped Mr Stone. I know we do not trust him, and he could turn out to be dangerous like Gibbs, but... should I not keep a closer eye on him if given the chance?’

Mrs Merriweather paused before replying. ‘Perhaps we should handle one problem at a time, petal.’

Betty, eager to help, suggested, ‘Perhaps Miss Heather could be sponsored by Miss Charlotte’s family? They might assist with the expenses?’

Grace shook her head. ‘Oh no, that won’t work. Charlotte has younger sisters, all unmarried, and while they are not poor, their finances are not unlimited. Besides, Charlotte’s mother has always disliked us because of our background. She would never approve of sharing a season with her daughters.’

Jimmy, who had been listening intently, piped up with a bold idea. ‘I reckon ye should ask the Duke to sponsor Miss Heather. He does owe ye one now. Dint ye say that Lord Armitage is in yer debt?’

Before anyone could react, Johnson clipped Jimmy on the ear. ‘Keep your silly ideas to yourself, boy! Always talking rubbish!’ He had taken it upon himself to discipline the lad, though his methods were often heavy-handed.

Mrs Merriweather rolled her eyes at this scene but noticed the glint in Grace’s eyes. ‘What’s this?’ she asked, instantly alert.

Grace’s face brightened. ‘Of course! Why did I not think of this sooner? If we receive a letter from the Duke accepting the sponsorship, it would also verify Mr Stone’s claims of being sent here by him. After all, no one in their right mind would forge a ducal seal. It is a capital crime!’ Her excitement was palpable, and even Jimmy grinned proudly despite his reprimand from Mrs Merriweather.

Grace continued, ‘Yes! I could also use the position as steward to help the tenants and search for the missing girls.’ In her enthusiasm, she had almost forgotten the one key issue—the reason she could not work at Skye Estate.

Mrs Merriweather, seeing Grace’s renewed hope, reminded her of the major flaw in the plan. ‘But what about your disguise? If Mr Stone is who he claims to be and your disguise fails... you will expose yourself. That would ruin your sister’s chances for sponsorship.’ Grace faltered for a moment, so Mrs Merriweather pressed on. ‘And what if someone from the Estate sees you and comments on your strange appearance?’

‘Miss Grace,’ Johnson murmured. ‘If he hasn’t figured out your disguise yet, it’s only a matter of time.’

The room fell into silence. Ginger climbed onto the kitchen table and sprawled himself in front of Grace. She stroked his belly. Perhaps it was all hopeless, she thought.

But then Jimmy spoke up. ‘Maybe I can ride ahead and let all the tenants and staff know to keep yer secret. They’ll support ye, Miss Grace, especially with everything that’s happened lately.’

Mrs Merriweather scowled, but the conversation moved on. Betty, deep in thought, added, ‘Perhaps I can make a special cream concoction for you, Miss Grace—something that will stay on longer?’

Grace sat up straighter, and for the first time in weeks, hope flickered inside her. ‘I think, with some help, maybe I can make it work—at least for a while.’

Jimmy insisted, ‘I’ll make sure everyone knows to keep quiet.’

Mrs Merriweather, still unconvinced, said, ‘This man is no fool. He has probably already seen through your disguise. I worry he will refuse to recommend Heather’s sponsorship to the Duke.’

‘Yes, you are right, Mrs M. He may refuse. But I can only know for certain if I ask him.’ She was willing to maintain her disguise until they left for London, for Heather’s sake—no matter how uncomfortable it felt. ‘I know it’s risky, Mrs M, but what other option do we have? If I do not do this, Heather may never have a chance at a proper season. Suitors are not exactly lining up at the door here. And the tenants—who will fight for them?’

Mrs Merriweather, now thoroughly exasperated, was at her wit’s end. Her cheeks flushed with frustration. ‘What if this Mr Stone is a scoundrel or a rake? He might try to seduce you—or worse, implicate you in a crime!’

Grace considered this yet another reason to maintain the charade. Dressed as she was, she would hardly attract romantic pursuit. If Mr Stone were to show any interest, she was not certain she could resist him. The man was undeniably handsome. By continuing with her unassuming disguise, she hoped to prevent any unwanted attachments and, in doing so, safeguard her heart.

‘Mrs M, I know the risks, truly I do,’ Grace said, gripping the edge of the table. ‘But if I refuse this opportunity, then what? Heather will never have a chance to marry or have a family. She will end up a lonely spinster like me! The tenants will continue to suffer. And Melissa—’ her voice faltered, her throat tightening. ‘The missing girls... who will find them?’

Mrs Merriweather opened her mouth to respond but found herself at a loss for words.

Grace inhaled sharply. ‘Yes, my disguise may not be perfect, but I can be careful. I’ll keep my head down, avoid unnecessary attention. And if it all falls apart...’ She squared her shoulders. ‘Then I will deal with it.’

Johnson, stroking his jaw in contemplation, finally spoke. ‘I suppose if you remain in disguise and Jimmy or Taylor stays with you to protect you, then I see no reason not to at least try ... for Miss Heather’s sake.’

Grace looked around the room—at the worry in Mrs Merriweather’s eyes, the quiet determination on Johnson’s face, the hopeful glint in Jimmy’s. The weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders.

‘This could go terribly wrong,’ she admitted, voicing the fear gnawing at her. ‘If I am discovered, it won’t just be my future at risk—it will be Heather’s too.’

‘Then we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,’ Jimmy said firmly.

Grace exhaled slowly. She had spent so long second-guessing herself, but perhaps it was time to take a leap of faith. ‘Then it is settled. I will do this.’

Heather stood in the doorway, having overheard the conversation, and grinned. ‘Huzzah!’ A small smile tugged at her lips.