Blinded by Grace: Book Five of the Cotillion Ball series (Crimson Romance)

F&W Media

Copyright © 2014 by Becky Lower.

All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher; exceptions are made for brief excerpts used in published reviews.

Published by

Crimson Romance

an imprint of F+W Media, Inc.

10151 Carver Road, Suite 200

Blue Ash, OH 45242. U.S.A.

www.crimsonromance.com

ISBN 10: 1-4405-7891-5

ISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7891-5

eISBN 10: 1-4405-7890-7

eISBN 13: 978-1-4405-7890-8

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, corporations, institutions, organizations, events, or locales in this novel are either the product of the author's imagination or, if real, used fictitiously. The resemblance of any character to actual persons (living or dead) is entirely coincidental.

Cover art © massonforstock/123RF

This book is dedicated to all men who wear glasses.

I would like to acknowledge my great editor, Jess Verdi. She’s been with me on The Cotillion Series since almost the beginning, and has come to know and love the Fitzpatrick family as much as I do. By being able to look at the manuscript from outside the writer’s focus, she has the ability to take my words and shape them into a stronger version of the same thing. She plugs up holes for me, marks my inconsistencies, makes sense out of nonsense, and helps to present a better version of my story. Thanks Jess, for making me look good.

New York City, April 1858

A pair of eyeglasses. Who would have guessed?

Halwyn’s vision had never been this focused before. He tweaked his new spectacles to a more comfortable spot on the bridge of his nose as the current crop of debutantes prepared to make their grand entrance into the ballroom.

His mother and father flanked him as all eyes turned to the staircase where each young lady would descend after the announcement of her name. Halwyn’s mother, Charlotte Fitzpatrick, pressed her hand into his back. Even though her touch was gentle, Halwyn did not mistake her meaning, especially when she reinforced it with her statement.

“This is your year, Halwyn, to find a bride. Take your time perusing this year’s group of lovelies and let me know to which ones you want an introduction. I can arrange it.”

“Mother, please. I have no intention of selecting a bride in this manner. I’m too busy for such foolishness. There is too much to do as is, what with the job at the bank and helping you and Father ride herd on the little ones.”

His mother smiled, her eyes aglow as the ladies assembled at the top of the stairs, surrounded by their fathers, brothers, and assorted other young men. “You are twenty-seven, Halwyn, high time to be married and producing grandchildren for me to spoil.”

“You have four already to spoil, with two more on the way this year. My contribution can wait.”

His father tried to hide his grin, but was unsuccessful. “I’m giving you fair warning, Halwyn. Your mother has decided this will be your year to wed. So, it’s up to you to find a suitable mate, one who won’t bore your mother to death with every last detail of the wedding ceremony. If you don’t put forth an effort, believe me, your mother will for you.”

Halwyn groaned and raked his hand through his hair. His thumb and forefinger brushed back the stray locks that always seemed to fall over his forehead.

“Why do I feel that I’m about to be fed to the lions?”

George slapped his son on his shoulder and laughed. “Because you are. It’s called courting. And here are this year’s entries into the marriage pool.” As a unit, the Fitzpatrick family turned to observe each lovely young lady, dressed in virginal white, as they were announced to the fawning masses below, took a curtsy, and then descended the staircase on the arms of their male escorts. Halwyn realized he was able, for the first time in all his years of attending the Cotillion, to actually see the women as they descended the stairs. He admitted each created a vision as they bowed to the audience and gracefully floated down the stairs, and was amazed at how much he had missed in years past simply because of faulty eyesight. The ladies were prettier, the ballroom was ablaze with candles, the gowns were lovely, and the gems around the ladies’ necks glimmered in the reflected glow of the candles. He had no problem adding rows of sums close up, but the other side of a crowded ballroom, or the ladies at the top of the staircase, had been a blur to him before.

Despite his misgivings about his mother’s plans for him to wed this year, Halwyn was mildly excited about this evening. He had no sisters to attend to as part of the Cotillion for a change, so he was free to prowl the ballroom all evening. And despite what he told his mother and father, he was not opposed to finding someone with whom he could share calm evenings at his own home. It was high time he moved out of his parents’ house. His twin sister, Pepper, had been married for five years already. Perhaps his mother was right this time. He was falling behind in his life’s plan.

But correcting the course of his life’s plan meant spending this spring and summer courting a woman. He grimaced at the thought. Such a waste of time. He didn’t want to go through the process of finding a respectable woman, wooing her, and all the tedious demands that came with a proper courtship until the pair could claim they were sufficiently familiar enough with each other to marry. Perhaps the Europeans had it right after all, with their arranged marriages. Take the guesswork out of it, and leave the choice of a suitable partner for his parents to figure out. All he’d have to do is show up at the church. And at the wedding night. Especially the wedding night. Yes, he could go along with such a plan.

Why couldn’t marriage be approached in the same sensible manner business was? In business arrangements, he was comfortable. He was aware of what to expect with any transaction. Cause and effect. He had observed the goings-on with his sisters while on their roads to marriage, and the machinations of love puzzled and confounded him. If he had been any of his sisters, he would have given up long before he ever walked down the aisle. And when his brother Basil got married a year or so ago, he had spent nine months in agony before he and Temperance admitted their love for each other. It made for amusing reading in his letters home from St. Louis, but Halwyn could conjure up no pity for him. When things became too hard, in romance or in business, you gave up on your first approach and found a different solution. That was his philosophy, and he was not going to venture away from it.

So, tonight, if he found a suitable partner—one who was serene, reserved, and enjoyed books, poetry, and the theatre—he might humor his parents and court the woman. But the moment it became difficult, or the woman began to make demands, Halwyn would be out the door, and out of her life. There were plenty of young ladies who were suitable. He certainly didn’t want to waste his time on one who was difficult.

As he glanced around the ballroom following the announcement of the young debutantes, he had to admit things were more exciting this year. The ballroom at the hotel was still cavernous, but being able to see things through his new glasses that he had never been aware of before made the whole experience different. For instance, there were several rows of chairs across the room, where young ladies and their mothers were sitting. Was that Grace Wagner? He hadn’t seen her in years. He remembered her as a playmate to his younger twin sisters, but now she was all grown up, and had turned into a lovely young woman. Perhaps he should go say hello to her and to her mother. And to give his belated acknowledgment of Mr. Wagner’s death. He wove his way around to her side of the room as the orchestra began to tune their instruments.

• • •

Grace Wagner’s stomach was in a knot even before the beginning notes of the first waltz of the evening. She could almost taste the panic her body was experiencing. She had been introduced into society three years earlier, right before her father’s death. She was in mourning when her best friends found love, got married, and exited from the debutante ball scene. Her second season hadn’t been much better, since the year of mourning needed to be observed, and she entered the season late, after everyone was already paired up. All around her, romance blossomed each spring, as one by one, her friends were plucked from their unwed states, and she sat on the sidelines.

And here she was again, the proverbial wallflower, with probably the most at stake, and no potential partner in sight. Not even someone exhibiting a remote interest. She must make something happen this season, or she would spend the rest of her life a destitute woman. If her stepfather, Simon, had his way, her entire trust would fall into his hands following her birthday in July, and he would drink and gamble away all the money that her father meant for herself and her mother. Grace took a deep breath. She would not go down the road to poverty without a fight. So she had to find a partner this spring, or face the prospect of becoming a governess for someone else’s spoiled children. Or becoming a paid companion to one of these young debutantes being introduced this evening. Ye gads, anything but that.

She spied Halwyn Fitzpatrick across the stately ballroom of the Metropolitan Hotel, with its myriad of candles casting sparkles of light on the assorted colorful gowns of the ladies. His mere presence in the same room caused her breathing to hitch. She’d been in love with him since she was thirteen and was introduced to him for the first time when he came home from college for the summer. He’d given her and his sisters each a handkerchief with the Yale insignia on it and, in exchange, she’d given him her heart. She had been in awe of him then, and she stuttered whenever he was in the same room. He must have thought her slow.

But that was then, and this was now. She was no longer a silly young schoolgirl. She was a grown woman, and her reaction to him was ridiculous, having a physical response after all this time. He didn’t remember her at all. She’d been introduced into society the same year as Heather and Jasmine, descended the very same steps they had, yet Halwyn had acted as if he’d not seen her. He hadn’t spoken to her in years. Well, he was going to now.

Grace rose from her seat and smoothed the skirt of her lilac gown. The dress was several years old, but she was still fond of its tiered skirt with bands of deep purple satin ribbon at the edge of each tier, and the beadwork of the bodice. Her mother gave her a sidelong glance as she lazily fanned herself.

“And where do you think you’re going, dear? The waltz has already begun and you have no partner. Sit back down before you cause a scene.”

This was the year, and Halwyn was her target. She would not sit quietly on the sidelines any longer.