Too Close to the Sun (44 page)

And the days and weeks went by, and the winter-cold branches eventually sprang their buds and blossomed, and the birds sang and the foxes took up their strange crying and the trees took on their full canopies. Spring was there, bright, and lush and green.

As the weeks passed, and spring gave way to summer, during the long summer holidays from school Billy spent hours working in the gardens and the stables. Grace’s holidays were not so long, for the Kellases required her to teach their children throughout the summer all but for three weeks in July and August when the family went to the coast.

Generally, for Grace, it was an uneventful time, and the weeks followed one after the other with little to mark them as remarkable in any way.

But then in the autumn she heard the first breath of gossip.

On a Saturday late in November the maid, Jane, was leaving. By the time she was ready to make her departure, just after eleven, her replacement, Effie, had already arrived, preparing to take up her duties. Grace did not know the details of Jane’s dissatisfaction with her position; she was only aware that it was a factor in her leaving.
According to Annie, the kitchen maid, there had been a disagreement between Jane and Mrs Sandiston, and Jane, hard to please at the best of times, had given notice. Now, this Saturday morning, with her hat and cape on, she swung out of the kitchen for the last time. Grace stepped into the rear passage just as Jane emerged, and moved to her.

‘Oh, Jane,’ Grace said, ‘I was hoping to catch you before you left.’

Jane turned to her. ‘I’ve only got a minute.’

Her manner was sullen, and Grace, taking in the redness about her small eyes, thought that she might have been crying.

‘I came to say goodbye and to wish you luck,’ Grace said.

Jane put her head on one side for a moment as if studying her, then said with an ostentatious tone of gratitude, ‘Well, how very kind of you. How very nice of you to spare the time to come and see me off.’

Her tone took Grace by surprise. She could see hostility in the girl’s face. ‘Jane, I mean it,’ she said, ‘ – I came down to wish you good luck for the future.’

‘What does my luck matter to you?’ Jane said. ‘You never cared a fig about my feelings since the moment you got here. If you’d only tell the truth you’d say you’re glad I’m going.’

‘Jane, that isn’t so at all. How can you say such a thing?’

‘How can I say such a thing? Oh, Miss Sweetness – listen to her, like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.’

‘Jane,’ Grace said evenly, ‘I don’t want us to quarrel. Can’t we part as friends?’ With her last words she tentatively put out her hand.

Jane looked at the hand and curled her lip. ‘I’m not going to shake your hand just to make you feel good,’ she said. ‘That’s what you’d like, isn’t it? Well, you’re going to be disappointed. It was never the same for me after you
arrived.’ She shook her head, lips compressed, as if she had difficulty forming the words she wished to speak, then she spat out: ‘I used to do Mrs Spencer’s hair before you came.’ Roughly she brushed past Grace and flounced to the door, then, reaching it, she turned and took a step back to stand before Grace again. ‘Companion,’ she sneered. ‘People like you – governesses, companions, you think you’re such a cut above the rest, don’t you? But you’re no better than the rest of us. You’re only a servant, after all. Companion, huh. What I’d like to know is, if you’re a companion, what are you doing here now? Mrs Spencer’s dead. She’ve got no need of a companion any more.’ She paused. ‘Unless it’s not
Mrs
Spencer you’re companion to.’

With her final words she swung about, moved back to the door and stormed out into the yard and away.

Grace stood with white face, her lips pale. She heard a sound, and, turning, saw Mrs Sandiston standing in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on her apron. Grace put her hands to her face. Mrs Sandiston stepped forward.

‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ she said. ‘She’s not a happy young woman. And I’m afraid you put her nose out of joint. Put it down to that.’

Grace couldn’t speak. Lowering her eyes, she gave a shake of her head, and murmuring, ‘Excuse me,’ hurried along the passage and up to her room.

An hour later Grace was in her room when she saw Mr Spencer draw up in his carriage in the stable yard. In seconds she was through the door and starting down the stairs.

‘Mr Spencer …’ She called to him as she saw him moving towards the stairs.

He stopped as she came towards him. ‘Is it important, Grace? I have to go out again soon.’ He had his coat on and carried his hat.

‘Please – it’ll only take a minute.’

He nodded, stayed there waiting, but Grace said, ‘Oh – not here, sir, if you don’t mind.’

‘Fine.’ He turned and stepped towards the drawing room and opened the door. ‘Please …’ He held the door open and Grace stepped through. He followed her and closed the door behind them.

‘Would you like to sit down?’ he said.

‘No, thank you.’ Wasting no time, she said, ‘Sir – I thank you so much for allowing Billy and me to stay here over the past year …’ She came to a halt. He waited a second then said, prompting her:

‘Yes? Go on.’

‘I – I’m sorry if I sound ungrateful, sir, but – but I shall have to look around for other accommodation for us.’

‘What on earth for?’ He looked astonished.

‘Well, I …’ Her voice trailed off.

‘What for? Tell me. Are you leaving your position in Little Berron?’

‘No, it’s not that.’

‘Then, what?’

She shook her head. ‘Oh – I don’t want to go into it. Can’t we just say that I have to leave – with great gratitude for everything, I hasten to add – but nevertheless I have to leave.’

‘No, we can’t just say that. I want to know why.’

She gave a little groan. ‘Sir – please, I –’

‘Tell me,’ he said.

‘I saw Jane a little while ago …’

‘Ah, yes, Jane – I understand she gave in her notice. Has she left?’

‘An hour ago.’

He shrugged. ‘Well, I doubt her absence will be that much mourned. If Mrs Sandiston’s opinion is anything to go by, she was more trouble than she was worth. Anyway, what’s she got to do with anything?’

‘Mr Spencer – I really don’t want to go into this …’

‘I don’t think you’ve got much choice. Just tell me what it is – or I shall begin to imagine all kinds of dreadful things.’

‘It
is
– dreadful.’

‘Oh?’ He frowned deeply. ‘Come,’ he said, ‘tell me now.’ Unable to meet his eyes, Grace said, her gaze in the direction of the window, ‘Jane made a comment to me just before she left …’

‘Yes …?’

‘Yes – and she made the implication that – this is very difficult for me – the implication that there is – is more to my relationship with you than there actually is.’

‘Are you serious?’ His frown was heavy as thunder. ‘What did she actually say?’

‘It isn’t so much what she said, sir – it was her clear implication. She made it very clear that she thought there was some relationship between us. Other than what there is.’

He was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Do you think she truly believed it?’

‘I’m not sure about that, sir – she may simply have been trying to hurt me – to score a point – but it’s obvious that the thought has gone through her mind.’ Then, seeing nothing else for it, she told him what Jane had said.

‘I see,’ he said. ‘And now what is going to happen?’

‘Well – I see nothing for it but to leave, sir. I can’t stay on here if there is this kind of gossip starting.’

‘I could say, of course, what does gossip matter if there’s nothing in it? – but we all know that it can do great harm.’ He took out his watch, looked at it and put it back. ‘I’m sorry, Grace, but I just have to go. I have to rush out again. Can we talk about this later?’

‘Of course, sir, but –’

‘We’ll talk about it later.’ He was already moving back to the door. ‘I’ll send you word tomorrow. We can talk then.’

In the afternoon of the following day, the new maid, Effie, came to Grace’s room with a message asking if she would go and see Mr Spencer in the conservatory in half an hour.

At the appointed time Grace left her room and went downstairs. Entering the conservatory she found Mr Spencer standing looking out over the rear garden. ‘Ah, Grace,’ he said, turning at the sound of her step. He moved towards her. ‘Would like some tea? I can send for some.’

‘Not for me, thank you, sir. I had some not long ago.’

‘Right.’ He nodded. ‘Sit down, please.’ He gestured to the wicker sofa and when Grace was seated took the chair facing her. ‘Thank you for coming down,’ he said.

Grace smiled, but said nothing. He looked around him. The varied fragrances of the plants were in the air. ‘My wife loved this part of the house,’ he said. ‘All these plants.’ He gave a deep sigh. ‘Life has to continue, doesn’t it? Sometimes we have no idea how, but it does.’

There was a silence for several moments. Then Mr Spencer leaned forward, his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped.

‘I have to talk to you,’ he said.

Grace said nothing, waited.

‘I was distressed to hear what you had to tell me yesterday,’ he said. ‘That foolish, coarse girl. How dare she speak to you like that? Well – good riddance.’

His eyes burned into her own, his gaze seeming to search her face – for answers to which there had been no questions. ‘I have to talk to you,’ he said again. He reached out his right hand, took her left hand and drew it towards him. Then, clasping her hand between his own, he said, ‘Grace, I want to marry you.’

Silence. For a moment Grace thought she had not heard correctly. But he was holding her hand, and leaning urgently towards her.

‘Grace – you heard what I said.’

She nodded. ‘Yes.’ She merely breathed the word.

‘This business with Jane – her saying that stupid, cruel thing – it was awful for you – though at the same time it has made it possible for me to say what I want to say. She’s forced my hand, so to speak. I suppose I should be grateful to her, in a way.’

‘Sir –’ She began to withdraw her hands, but with the slightest pressure he renewed his hold on her.

‘Please – let me tell you,’ he said. ‘Your telling me what you have heard and that you might have to leave – it gives me no choice now but to speak out. If I don’t then you’ll go away and I shall never have the opportunity – and I shall have lost something very precious to me.’

‘Mr Spencer –’

‘No, no – not
Mr Spencer
–
Edward
, you must call me
Edward
.’

‘Sir – please …’

‘Edward.’

She shook her head. ‘I – I cannot.’

He paused. ‘As you wish.’ He released the pressure on her hand and she withdrew it and sat back, holding herself upright in the chair.

‘You look as if you’re poised for flight,’ he said. ‘Relax, Grace, please.’

‘Relax,’ she said with irony in her voice, ‘ – oh, you’ve made it impossible for me to relax.’

‘I’m sorry. I know it’s come right out of the blue. You obviously had no idea of how I feel. How could you?’

She said nothing.

‘My wife,’ he said, ‘ – God rest her soul – has been gone over a year now, and – oh, Grace, I cannot deny love if it comes to me. You do understand, don’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘How could I? We have no say as to how love comes, and who it touches, and when. Or do you think we do?’

‘No.’

‘No, we do not.’

Silence fell. Grace did not know where to look. She could not look him in the face, and at the same time she felt self-conscious looking elsewhere in the room. A few moments more and then he said:

‘I meant what I said just now. I want to marry you.’ A pause. ‘I love you, Grace. I love you. It’s as simple as that.’

She raised her head now, turning to look at him, trying to find words to say, but he held his hand up, palm towards her. ‘Don’t say anything right now, as I fear I might not like what I hear. Please – just think about it. I might just add that neither you nor young Billy will want for anything – anything at all. This house will become your home – your real home.’ He lowered his hand. ‘But enough for now. It’s too much for you to take in, I’m sure. I’ll ask you at a later time for your answer.’ He stirred in the chair. ‘I shall let you go back to your work now. But please think on what I’ve said this afternoon.’

Grace got to her feet, and he stood up also. She gave him a brief nod, and then turned and walked away.

In her room she lay back on her bed, thinking of what had passed.

This house will become your home, he had said. Your real home. Neither you nor Billy will want for anything – anything at all.

The words had brought almost a sense of relief. Not for herself; she wanted nothing for herself. But for Billy. For Billy she wanted everything that was good. And to see him with a settled home, security, never the fear of wanting – was there anything more that she could ask?

And she had no doubt that Edward Spencer would be true to his word.

But she did not love him.

Such thoughts were still going through her mind a week later when she and Billy were walking in the grounds of Asterleigh House.

The sun was bright, but there was a strong breeze. On that Sunday after church Grace had called to Billy, and together they walked through the gardens down to the orchard. The trees were bare. As they walked beneath the leafless branches she thought of that earlier time, that summer, when she and Kester had walked beneath the apple boughs.

She must come to a decision. Jane’s words still rang in her ears, and she constantly asked herself whether the implication had been voiced elsewhere. But the fact that Jane had uttered it was enough, and Grace could feel her cheeks burn with shame simply at the memory.

So, she must leave. She must find another home for Billy and herself.

And then again the words of Edward Spencer came back to her. His proposal of marriage. And again she was torn.

‘Grace, look at me.’

The words, interrupting her thoughts, came from Billy as he sat in the fork of a gnarled old apple tree.

‘You be careful you don’t fall,’ she said, moving forward and looking up at him. She would have much preferred that he did not do such things, do anything that might endanger him, but she could not forbid him such pleasures. The more physical things he could do like other children and the more risks he could take, then the less his consciousness of his disability.