Lady Grace by Vicki Hopkins

Author:Vicki Hopkins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Fiction, Historical Romance, Historical Romance Series, Sweet Romance, Romance 20th Century
Publisher: Vicki Hopkins
Published: 2017-08-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The Meaning of Grief

During my ride back to Stratton Park, I sat listlessly in the back seat of the car, staring at the passing scenery. My ears rang as if they still heard Olivia’s cries from miles away. The pain of seeing her in such a state had torn my heart to shreds. Unexpectedly, the harsh reality of war had arrived upon Olivia’s doorstep, stripping her of happiness and love. The consequences of the conflict could no longer remain a mere abstract out of sight or out of mind. Instead, the hideous truth of its penalties had arrived close to home.

As we approached the estate, I needed someone to talk to who understood. I leaned forward and spoke to the driver. “Take me to the cottage and drop me off. I need to speak to the lieutenant about an urgent matter.”

Our chauffeur glanced at me in the rearview mirror with a raised brow, which I chose to ignore. If Florence discovered my whereabouts, I would deal with her objections upon my return. At that moment, I needed the support of another human being I could trust. The only person I cared to express my painful thoughts to was Stefan.

The car pulled down the dusty road toward the cottage. As we approached and stopped, an anxious anticipation rose in my heart.

“Thank you,” I addressed the driver somberly. “If Lady Russell inquires of my whereabouts, you may tell her I went for a walk upon my return and nothing more.”

“Yes, my lady.” He flashed a cautionary look.

Exiting the car, I closed the door and waited for him to pull down the road before approaching and standing before the entrance. After a brief knock, I heard Stefan’s cane clap on the wooden floor and the familiar shuffle of his walk. As he swung open the barrier, my raw emotions eroded my composure with tears welling in my eyes.

“Lady Grace.” His brows knit together as he scanned my face. “Something is wrong, what is it?”

Perhaps I should have surmised he thought I had received a telegram regarding Benedict’s demise, but I only thought of Olivia’s pain.

“Have you news of your husband?”

“My husband?” My heart pounded in my throat. “No, it is my dear friend Olivia,” my trembling voice countered. “She received a letter from the War Office that...” I could not say the phrase I had read an hour earlier. What did it mean? Had he been blown to pieces by a shell? Had a rifle bullet ripped through his heart? What terror had the poor man endured?

Stefan set both his hands upon my shoulders tenderly. “That he was killed in action.”

My head shook affirmatively, and I felt such anguish for Olivia that my stomach soured. “My poor friend is so grief-stricken,” I replied. “We went out for lunch, and when we returned, a letter had arrived.”

“I’m so very sorry. Come in and sit.” He took my hand in his and led me inside, closing the door behind me. Without protest, I followed him and sat on the couch.

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