Grace (A Sinclair Society Novella) Rough Draft

Chapter Eight

To my surprise, that insufferable man was in attendance at the Colonel and Mrs. March's party that evening. Somehow, he became my partner for a game of whist. That, coupled with the fact that Miss Dunbar was at the same table, informed me that the evening was not to be the enjoyable one I had expected to have.

"I feel I ought to apologize to you, Miss Anderson," he said as the cards were dealt. "I should not have questioned your actions. It was kind of you to look past the boy's action to see what must have driven him to steal."

"What happened?" Miss Dunbar asked with a great deal of interest. "You must tell us all! We are all agog."

To my embarrassment, Mr. Melbourne related what had occurred outside the Pump Rooms. Mrs. March shook her head once she had heard all. "My dear, thievery ought not to be rewarded. Kind and well-meant you may have been, it just should not have been done. A constable should have been summoned to deal with him as he deserved."

"I cannot believe I missed seeing that," Miss Dunbar said with a pout. "Shall we play now? Mrs. March, have you heard from any of your husband's friends who are still on the continent?"

It didn't surprise me that Miss Dunbar did not like the attention being away from her. As I did not want the attention, I did not mind her pulling it back to herself. It was sweet of her to ask after the colonel's friends. So many of them could be on their way home now that Napoleon had been removed from power.

With cards in hand, our game began. Mrs. March was chattering away about a friend who had recently returned home after being away for several years. Miss Dunbar was listening intently. My mind, on the other hand, began to wander.

How had Mr. Melbourne known who I was when we met at the card table? No one had introduced him in the Marchs' home. Had he remembered me on his own, once he had time to think about it? Or had that maid, Miss Nelson, enlightened him?

I played a card without even thinking. Mrs. March gave a delighted laugh while Mr. Melbourne groaned. "Oh, Miss Anderson," Miss Dunbar said, shaking her head. "Where is your mind today?" She reached over. "Are you having a bad evening?"

She had a talent for annoying me in an instant. "I confess I did lose focus for a moment," I said, shifting so that she could not touch me so easily. "But I am certainly not having a bad day. You know I do not often have luck when it comes to cards."

"How kind of you to be so concerned," Mr. Melbourne said, smiling at the other young woman.

Of course he would be attracted to Miss Dunbar. It seemed everyone thought her to be a sweet, innocent young lady. Any missteps she made was just learning her way in society. Of course, there was no maliciousness intended on her part.

Obviously, I was not in the mood for polite society if I was so easily put out. Miss Dunbar shook her head and refused to look at Mr. Melbourne. "Mrs. March, you were saying a captain you know has been tasked with guarding Napoleon?" she said. "What shall he be doing? Tell me all."

Her question only added to my annoyance with the whole situation. I could understand being curious about something, but why did she demand to be told all? It did not concern her and matters were still on edge with Napoleon being in custody. Speculate, of course, but such details should not be widely spread.

"Do you meet Miss Nelson often?" Mr. melbourne asked in a low voice.

"I have only met her a few times," I said, still watching miss Dunbar. She was listening to Mrs. March with a remarkable amount of concentration. "She has visited Mr. Sinclair's grave on behalf of her former employer, Miss Sinclair."

Mr. Melbourne's expression became serious. "You still go yourself?"

"Of course!" What a ridiculous conversation to be having! "I regularly visit my betrothed's grave to ensure it is maintained and tended. He was buried away from family and I will not have it said Jonathan Sinclair has no one to remember him now that he is gone!"