Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

O liver slapped his hand against his thigh as he walked away from Penrose Hall. It was the second day that he'd been refused when calling on Grace. Frustration poured through him as he trudged down the steps, waiting for his horse.

He swallowed. He'd brought this on himself. He hadn't lied to her directly, but he'd reserved some of the truth back. Judging by his dismissal two days in a row, it was clear that Grace did not want to see him. But he couldn't fix things between them, if he wasn't allowed the opportunity to at least speak to her.

He should have thought this through better. A groomsman led Poseidon toward him. Oliver patted Poseidon's neck. It was time for a long ride. He mounted his horse but kept Poseidon's pace sedate as he directed his horse on the long drive. Once he reached the fields, he would let him run to his heart's content. Hopefully it would do him some good too.

Behind him he heard a voice, calling him. His heart lurched. Had Grace changed her mind? But when he looked back, it was not Grace who was running down the steps, but her cousin.

"Your Grace," Lady Elliott said, through panting breaths. "I'm so glad I caught you."

Oliver stopped in front of her and dismounted, holding onto Poseidon's reins. He bowed. "Lady Elliott." He wasn't sure what else to say. After all, she was the one coming outside to talk with him. It was clear there was something on her mind. And he didn't wait long for an answer.

"I apologize that my cousin is not up for callers again today."

Oliver nodded. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"She really is a sweet girl, with a very kind temperament," Lady Elliott said, her face showing her distress.

Oliver smiled. He knew both of those things. He also knew that Grace had a fire within her. That zeal for life was something that had intrigued him from the very beginning. She was determined and selfless. But he couldn't tell Lady Elliott that he knew those traits and more about Grace. He settled on the response that he could give. "I believe it."

"We didn't know you had returned so soon from your travels. I had assumed you were still out of town."

Oliver could see the confusion in the woman's eyes. He did his best to allay her feelings. "I apologize. I returned earlier than expected but felt it would be inconsiderate and presumptuous to assume that my spot was still available when I had already given my response previously. I hope you know that it had nothing to do with you or your house party. I am still …"

"Grieving," she supplied the word.

He paused before responding. Previously, when he'd wanted to get out of engagements and social functions, it had been easy for him to rely on the crutch that he'd still needed time to grieve the unfortunate accident and death of his wife a few years before. But that wasn't the reason now. He could see that he'd carried around that sentiment for longer than he'd needed to. It was the easy excuse—the one that wasn't questioned. Perhaps it had been a long time since the excuse applied to him.

But meeting Grace—developing feelings for Grace—had proven to him that his heart wasn't the irreparable organ he'd thought it to be. He'd found laughter with Grace, hope with Grace, and not merely for show in social settings where it was expected that he would laugh and dance and entertain. No. With Grace it wasn't for anything like that.

"Lady Elliott, I believe that five years of being a widower has indeed been enough time in my grief. I believe I have come out of it."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Truly, Your Grace?"

He nodded. "I am only trying to figure out how to begin … socializing … again." He looked at the hous e, toward the door where he'd called twice and been rejected twice. "It appears that so far I do not know precisely how to go about it."

Lady Elliott gave him a sympathetic look. "My cousin is not usually one to turn away callers," she said, following his gaze. "I believe she must really not feel up to company. I do not think you should give up so easily."

It was clear Lady Elliott did not know the full story between him and Grace—or rather, between "Ollie" and Grace. "Do you have another suggestion aside from calling on her?" he asked, wondering if there was a different way to be in company with Grace. He already felt like an intruder trying to call on her in the middle of a house party. As he thought about it, it wasn't particularly polite. Perhaps what he needed was some patience. If he waited until after the house party ended, it might be easier to gain her attention.

"Why don't you come for dinner and join us for the rest of the house party?" Lady Elliott asked.

Oliver was not trying to beg an invitation, nor did he want to put Grace out if she truly did not wish to see him.

Sensing his hesitation, Lady Elliott spoke again. "Or perhaps that is too many social engagements to commit to. How about coming for one dinner and our musicale evening?"

"I should not wish to inconvenience you," he said. "Indeed, I do not want to complicate your plans."

"You would be most welcome, and it would be no trouble at all to have you attend for an evening. A musicale is not like an evening of cards or games where the numbers need to be even. And those evenings are still negotiable. Even when planning perfectly, not everyone engages in every activity I plan."

Oliver was still nervous about intruding, but after Lady Elliott expressed how much she would like to have him join in, he relented. After all, if things went awry, he could always excuse himself from the party early. And the party would be large enough that if Grace wanted to, she could spend the entire evening talking with others. "I believe that is the best course of action," he said with determination.

Lady Elliott clapped her hands together. "Splendid! I am so glad to hear it. Our musicale is scheduled for tomorrow evening. Dinner will be served at six."

Oliver nodded. "I shall be there. Thank you, Lady Elliott."