Finding Hope (Mail Order Bride: Brides And Promises Book 1) Page 8
Thomas put his hands up and stepped away, a grim smile crossing his face. He’d already made his point. “I’m done,” he muttered, glaring across at Stubbs, who was nursing a bloody nose. “That ought to teach you not to talk about her that way.”
“Trying to make her some sort of saint, are you?” George sneered, wiping his bloody nose with his sleeve. “After the way she painted herself, I’m surprised you think so highly of her.”
Making to turn away to walk out of the saloon, Thomas froze.
“Ah, so she’d didn’t tell you about that part,” George laughed—mockingly. “Gone and painted herself up pretty to get her picture taken. Sent it to me so I’d think she was the prettiest thing around, so that I’d agree to marry her!”
Turning around slowly, Thomas felt ice make its way through his veins. “You’re lying.”
George shook his head, his grin widening. “Why else did you think I didn’t want her? If she’s sent me a picture of herself just as she was, I’d never have agreed to her coming here.” He tilted his head, watching Thomas carefully. “She’d painted her face, got false hair and all this padding to give her curves she don’t really have. Said something like she thought I’d not mind since I wasn’t looking for love.” He chuckled, as his two friends guffawed next to him. “I might not be looking for love, but I sure wasn’t looking wife like her.”
Thomas spat, hard. “You’re a shallow waste of space, Stubbs. There’s more to beauty than just the outward appearance.” He turned around, determined not to let Stubbs see just how affected he was by the news that Grace had outright lied to her husband-to-be.
“I don’t hold with deceivers,” Stubbs shouted after him, whilst the rest of the bar remained silent. “If that’s all right with you, then you’re welcome to her. I won’t be chasing her skirts again.”
Thomas stormed outside, startling the horses tied to the posts outside. He didn’t know what to do or where to go, his thoughts tumbling over one another. He couldn’t think of Grace ever doing something that deceitful.
Why would she even think of doing that? He’d known that George Stubbs had refused to wed her because of what she looked like, but he hadn’t ever once assumed that she had deliberately set out to deceive him!
This wasn’t aimed at you, Thomas, he told himself, wandering aimlessly through the dark streets. Why are you taking it so bad?
The truth was, what George had told him had shattered the picture he had of Grace. He’d seen her as this selfless, kind-hearted soul, who had nothing but good in her, so to discover that she’d done something so deceitful pierced his very soul. Why hadn’t she told him the truth?
Putting his head in his hands, Thomas groaned aloud, his expression grim. This wasn’t the Grace he knew.
Finding his way back to his horse and ignoring the fact that there were a good few whiskies sloshing around inside him, Thomas mounted and turned his horse towards the direction of home. He’d have to find Grace and ask her the truth about what had happened.
A sudden idea hit him as he rode. Maybe none of this was true. After all, he would be a fool to take some drunk, depressed man’s word for it. Grace would tell him whether or not it was true; he trusted her that much at least.
Maybe George Stubbs was the one who was lying, trying to get him to believe something that wasn’t in the least bit true about Grace, trying to put something between them. After all, the man was a stubborn, vindictive sort, by all appearances, especially since Grace had turned George Stubbs down, yet again.
Gritting his teeth, Thomas turned his horse’s nose in the direction of Aunt Mary’s home and slowly made his way through the dark and gloomy country paths. More than anything, he wanted to gallop there, to demand to know the truth, but the darkness of the night forced him to take his time.
Thankfully, a light was still shining in the window as he arrived, telling him that someone was still awake.
Sliding down from the saddle, he put his horse in the stable to protect it from the chill of the night wind and stumbled up the porch steps towards the front door.
It was latched, and so Thomas had to wait, impatiently, for someone to open the door.
“Who is it?”
Grace’s quivering voice met his ears, making him slam his fist down on the door once more. “It’s Thomas,” he replied gruffly. “I think we need to talk.”
The door opened almost immediately, and Grace’s anxious face looked up at him. “Is something the matter? Mary’s gone to bed, but I can wake her.”
“No need,” he muttered, pushing the door open and walking inside. “This is something I need to discuss with you.”
“Me?”
He saw her frown, her expression flickering between concern and anxiety. “I met George Stubbs in town.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“He told me a lot about you, Grace. A lot more about why he refused to marry you.”
Her face paled in the lamplight, her hands covering her mouth.
“I think we’ve got some talking to do.”
12
Grace drew in a sharp breath as Thomas stormed past her, walking further into the house. She carefully closed the door behind him, taking the opportunity to squeeze her eyes shut and take in a few calming breaths. Her stomach was already churning, her hands sweaty as she latched the door. Thomas was clearly upset.
“What do you want to know, Thomas?” she asked, as she turned back around to face him, determined not to shirk in the face of his many questions.
“I want to know if what George Stubbs said was true,” he bit out, his eyebrows deeply furrowed as he glowered at her. “He told me some things about you that just didn’t seem right.”
Grace sat down in the rocking chair by the fire, folding her hands in her lap and looking up at him. “Whatever passed between myself and George Stubbs is between us, Thomas. It’s in the past.”
Thomas’ jaw clenched. “So, it’s true.”
“What is?”
“That you painted your face to make him marry you.”
Grace felt as though he’d slapped her, hard. Her cheeks burned as she held his gaze, forcing herself not to look away. “I let my self-doubt get in the way of what I knew was right, Thomas. I allowed myself to be influenced by someone else.”
He growled, looking away from her and running one hand through his hair, making it stick up all over the place.
“I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I was so afraid that all he’d see would be how plain I was, instead of thinking about all the other things I could do for him. There’s more to someone that just the outward appearance. Deep down, I hoped he wouldn’t mind, maybe not even notice.”
Rounding on her, Thomas slammed his hand down, hard, on the back of a chair. “Of course, he would notice! You lied to him, Grace!”
She lifted her chin, not ashamed to admit her wrongdoing and trying not to let him see the way his words sliced straight through her. “Yes, I did. It was wrong, and I’m not afraid to say that I should never have done such a thing.” Tilting her head, she gazed at him, her embarrassment slowly melting away. “I don’t see why this has anything to do with you though, Thomas. Why are you so upset?”
“Because you’re not the person I thought you were!” he exclaimed, shaking his head, as he began to pace up and down the kitchen. “You had me believe that George Stubbs just turned you down because of how you looked, not because you’d wronged him in the first place.”
A spark of anger settled in Grace’s heart. “Thomas, I tried to tell you. I tried to talk to you and let you know that there was more to the story than you thought, but you were the one who wouldn’t let me speak. You told me you didn’t need to know!”
“Then you should have made sure to tell me the truth regardless,” Thomas shouted, a wild look in his eyes. “I never thought you’d be the kind of woman to do this kind of thing, Grace!” He glanced at her, passing a hand over his eyes. “It’s tainted the way I see you.”
Fear mounted in her heart, as tears clogged her throat. Grasping the arms of the chair, Grace tried not to let her emotions overwhelm her, desperate not to break down in front of him. “Did you really think I was some kind of saint?” she whispered, swallowing her tears. “Did you truly believe that?”
Thomas didn’t answer. His mouth opened and closed, a confused expression coming over his face. Grace kept her face lifted to his, challenging him gently. She was not going to give in to her threatening tears, not when there was so much more to say.
“What happened between George and I is personal to me, Thomas,” she continued, moving forward to the edge of her chair, desperate for him not to shatter what had been only just beginning to grow between them. “Maybe it’s a good thing that you had this talk with George Stubbs, if it helps you to see me as I really am.”
He shook his head, a long groan leaving his lips. “I don’t think I can ever see you in the same way again, Grace. I never thought that you would ever do something like this.”
“I made a mistake,” Grace cried, pushing herself to her feet as a sudden desperation filled her. “I didn’t do this to you, Thomas. It wasn’t something you were ever involved in! I can’t understand why this has hurt you so deeply.”
Thomas put his hat back on his head, lifting his eyes to hers. “Because the Grace I know would never have let someone paint her face or pad her body to give her the illusion of beauty,” he said slowly. “Mistake or otherwise, that was outright deceit. I never thought you had that in you, Grace.” He walked towards the door, leaving her standing in silence. “I think it’s best we leave whatever it was between us. Nothing’s been promised. I think it’s better we let things lie.”
Grace’s breath snagged her throat, making her gasp as she staggered forward, her heart shattering in her chest. “Thomas, no, please…”
“I think it’s best,” he replied, turning away from her. “I’m sorry, Grace.”
The door shut behind him, leaving her standing alone in the house. She didn’t know what to think or what to do, her hands reaching for a man that was no longer there. He had turned away from her, left her entirely alone with no chance to explain or talk further. Any hope of a future with him was gone in a moment.
“I thought he might understand,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as she stumbled back to sit in her chair, chilled to the very bone. Tears ran down her cheeks, dripping onto her hands, but she hardly felt them. Everything that she had allowed herself to feel, had allowed herself to hope, was broken.
Time seemed to slow, misery wrapping around her like a shroud. It permeated her bones, making her visibly shake and shudder. Her life had gone from hope and happiness to sheer misery. Humiliation and shame tugged her further down and down until she was completely surrounded by darkness.
* * *
Something shook her, a hand on her arm and, as Grace struggled to sit up, she realized that she’d fallen asleep in front of the fire.
“Grace!” Mary exclaimed, leaning down to look into her face. “Whatever’s happened? You look as white as a ghost!”
Grace shook her head and tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes, her mind foggy. “I’m so sorry, Mary. I didn’t mean to be behind on breakfast.”
“Forget about that,” Mary replied at once, pushing a cup of coffee into Grace’s hands. “Whatever are you doing asleep in the chair? That’s not like you.”
Grace felt her lip tremble and lifted the coffee to her lips, hoping a few sips would help her regain her composure.
“Grace,” Mary said again, clearly discomfited by Grace’s appearance. “Has something happened?”
Swallowing her coffee, Grace managed to give a wane smile. “Thomas spoke to George Stubbs.”
Mary sat down in a seat, frowning. “So? Why does that matter?”
“It matters because he heard what I’d done,” Grace answered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “George told him about my photograph and how I’d tried to deceive him.”
The frown deepened on Mary’s features. “I don’t understand. What’s that got to do with Thomas?”
Lifting one shoulder, Grace brushed the tears from her eyes. “He said he couldn’t imagine me doing anything like that,” she replied softly. “That I wasn’t the person he thought.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Mary exclaimed, staring at Grace as though she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard. “You made a mistake. Everyone does. It’s not like you’re not sorry for it.”
“I tried to explain that to him, but he didn’t seem to understand,” Grace replied, her voice hoarse with emotion. “I did try to tell him before, I swear I did, but he wasn’t interested in hearing it.”
Mary’s lips twisted, her eyes fixed on Grace. “He was round last evening then, was he?”
Nodding, Grace sniffed and wiped at her eyes, desperate not to dissolve into tears again. “He was quite upset.”
“And he’s said there’s to be nothing more between you, is that it?”
Surprised, Grace looked up at Mary, who had a wry grin on her face.
“You don’t really think that I’ve not been aware of what’s been going on between the two of you, do you?” she said softly. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes, Grace, and have been praying for the two of you every day since. I think you’d be a marvelous pair together, truth be told.”
Tears began to drip, unfettered, from Grace’s eyes. “It’s all come to nothing now,” she managed to say, her heart squeezing in pain. Her voice faded, shadows lifting before her eyes. “I should have told him the truth.”
“That man is nothing more than a straight-out idiot,” Mary declared, shaking her head. “I’ve got a good mind to go over and straighten him out this very minute.” Rising from her chair, she came over to Grace, and kneeling down in front of her, Mary looked straight into her eyes. “Now, you listen here, Grace. That man doesn’t know what’s good for him. He should have ignored George Stubbs completely, and if he did want to come and talk to you about it, then there’s a lot more compassion and understanding he should have shown. Instead, he’s gone and got himself all tied up in knots over something that doesn’t concern him! What you did has nothing to do with him whatsoever, and from what he knows of you, he should have seen that you were already right sorry for it. I know there’s no deceit in you, Grace. What is he thinking? That what you feel for him is a lie?” She tossed her head, a streak of stubbornness in her eyes. “That boy has acted foolishly, so don’t you go crying your eyes out over him. I’ll be giving him a piece of my mind, and then he’ll be back over here begging you to forgive him.”
Grace gave a watery smile, trying to appear as brave and as confident as Mary wanted her to be. “That’s kind of you, Mary, but I think the damage has been done. It’s probably best that I do what he wants.”
Mary’s lips thinned. “You’re giving up on him then? On the happy life you could have by his side? Don’t think I haven’t seen the expression on your face when he comes in the room! I know you dream of a future with him.”
“But what can I do when he’s told me it’s all gone?” Grace replied, spreading her hands in a gesture of defeat. “You weren’t here, Mary. You didn’t see the look on his face.”
Mary’s expression grew sympathetic, as Grace struggled against tears. “Now, now, he’s gone and hurt you pretty bad, hasn’t he?” Patting Grace’s hand, she rose to her feet and set about cooking them both breakfast, leaving Grace feeling more useless than ever.
“We’ll get this sorted out, just you wait and see,” Mary said, over the top of the clanging of pans and dishes. “Dry your tears, Grace. He’ll be back, and it’ll be like this all never happened.”
Grace, wanting to be helpful, kept her thoughts to herself and set about laying the table and cutting a few slices of bread, trying her best not to think of Thomas. Still, even though Mary tried to reassure her, Grace could feel nothing but disappointment and pain over Thomas’ visit. She didn’t think there was any wa
y Mary would be able to heal the rift that had come between them, no matter how hard she tried.
Any hope of a life with him was now over.
13
Thomas knew he had drunk too much the very moment he woke up. His eyes burned as he tried to open them, wishing the sunshine wasn’t as bright. Rolling over, he put his head in between his arms and groaned loudly, his head thumping with pain.
It was already late, and he still hadn’t got out of bed. The pain running all through him had prevented that. He should never have spoken to Grace when he was feeling so wretched about the whole thing, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from getting the truth from her. And now that he knew what she had done, how she had misrepresented herself by doing something that was clearly dishonest, he knew he could never see her in the same way again.
Not that he thought George Stubbs had any right to disparage Grace in the way he had done, since the man clearly saw only what was in front of his face and not what kind of person Grace truly was. But still, Thomas could understand, in a way, why the man had turned her down outright. The bare bones of it was, Grace had lied to George.
What does this whole matter have to do with you?
Groaning aloud, Thomas grasped the feather pillow and threw it over his face, as he rolled onto his back, trying to block out Grace’s words from his mind. He had to admit that it had absolutely nothing to do with him, yet it ripped his heart apart. He had seen Grace as almost an angel sent from heaven, an angel sent to help Mary find her happiness again. She was kind and sweet and gentle, putting her heart and soul into everything she did – so why was he so angry with her?
It was a question he couldn’t answer.
In his mind’s eye, he saw her standing there, looking as heartbroken as he felt – and he knew he was the cause of it. He’d hurt her by dragging her over the coals for something she’d done, and clearly, something she’d come to regret. Still, the hurt and the upset grew in his chest.