No Journey Too Far (McAlister Family #2) - Carrie Turansky Page 0,4
with her.”
Grace nodded and followed the dressmaker toward the parlor door.
Richard smiled again as she passed. She averted her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. When she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder, and Richard’s gaze followed her. Their eyes met, and he winked.
She pulled in a sharp breath and hurried through the doorway. What did he mean by that wink? Was he flirting with her, or was he simply in a lighthearted mood?
Would Richard attend the St. Andrew’s Ball? If he did, would he ask her to dance? Her father said he was intelligent and hardworking. Surely, those were two important qualities to recommend him as a potential beau. She didn’t know anything about his family, but the fact he had been given such an important position at Hamilton’s seemed to indicate that her father trusted and respected him.
A sudden thought struck, and her steps slowed. Would Richard still send her those teasing smiles if he knew the truth about her past? How could she step out into society and keep her background a secret? Building a secure future on the shifting sand of lies and secrets would be difficult, if not impossible.
And even if she could, was that the kind of life she wanted?
A few minutes later, Grace slipped out of her gown, and Mrs. Wilson helped her into her day dress.
“It will still be chilly in April,” the dressmaker said as she tied the sash at the back of Grace’s dress. “Would you like me to design a cape to go with your new gown?”
Father’s disapproving expression flashed across Grace’s mind. “No, thank you. Mother has a blue-and-silver shawl that will match the gown.”
“Very good, miss. I’ll finish the hem and send the gown to you as soon as it’s done.” Mrs. Wilson placed the gown in a large cloth bag and draped it over her arm.
Grace thanked her and followed her into the upper hallway. As the dressmaker descended the stairs, Grace looked over the railing to the entry hall below.
Richard followed the butler to the front door, accepted his hat and coat, and walked out.
Grace released a soft sigh. She’d missed her chance to speak to him. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t sure what she would say if he had lingered, waiting for her.
Mrs. Wilson followed Richard out, and as soon as the front door closed, Grace’s father’s voice rang out from the parlor. “Honestly, Judith, do you think I am made of money?”
Grace bit her lip, but she leaned forward to hear more of her parents’ conversation.
“Howard, please. There is no need to raise your voice.”
“It seems that is the only way I can convince you to listen.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. We can certainly afford a new gown for Grace.”
“But I own a store full of dresses. You could choose any one you want. Why on earth do you insist on calling in a private dressmaker?”
“If Grace is going to make the right impression at the St. Andrew’s Ball, then she must have a unique gown—one that sets her apart from all the other young women. We can’t simply choose a gown off the rack at Hamilton’s.”
Her father grumbled something Grace couldn’t hear.
“We must dress Grace like a princess to make sure no one suspects her background.”
Grace stifled a gasp. Was that why Mother brought in the dressmaker? She feared someone would guess she wasn’t a native-born Canadian?
“No one suspects Grace was a Home Child.”
“They might if we don’t make sure she looks like she was born into our family.”
“I don’t know why I ever let you talk me into this scheme,” her father growled. “We should never have hidden the fact that Grace was adopted.”
“How can you say that? She’d be an outcast from society if the truth were known. Then she’d never find a suitable husband.”
Grace clutched the railing as pain pierced her heart. How could her mother say such a thing? Surely, that wasn’t true, was it?
Her father continued, “Grace is an attractive and accomplished young woman, and we are a respected family. That should be enough to impress any young man.”
“Not in Toronto society. If we are going to secure Grace’s future and protect our reputation, then no one must ever know the truth.”
A few seconds ticked by before he answered. “That’s a foolish choice, Judith, and one I’m sure we’ll come to regret.” The parlor door slammed, and he strode across the entry hall toward the library.