Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace Read Free Page B

the Averette’s daughter Gwendolyn was but three. She had faithfully served as the child’s governess and, upon occasion, as a companion to the adventurous Miss Cashémere. But on this particular day, she placed herself between the posturing Averette and his cowering wife.
    “Please tell me,” Lady Averette had begged. “I’ve a right to know what is happening.”
    “You have a right!” the viscount had accused in his customary disdainful manner, and Alice Aldridge had recoiled involuntarily. Grace had lingered outside Lord Averette’s study door in anticipation of her employer’s reaction to his wife’s intrusion. “Since when do you have a right? You’re my wife, and you will do what I say.”
    Averette had raised his hand to strike his wife, but Grace had set her feet to intercept his blow. In her years at The Ridge, she had witnessed the viscount’s anger take a physical slant. On more than one occasion, Lord Averette had struck his servants, his niece, and his wife–but never had the man raised his hand to her or to his daughter. Grace had never understood the deference the viscount had shown her. She liked to think it was because he knew she would retaliate–that no man would be her master. She had surreptitiously taught Gwendolyn Aldridge something of that resolve. Perhaps, that was the secret to why she the child had been spared from Samuel Aldridge’s violent tendencies. “Your Lordship!” she spoke with authority.
    Aldridge had turned his rage on Grace. “No one asked for your presence in this matter,” he declared viciously. “Take yourself from my sight.”
    Grace glared defiantly. “Gladly, Viscount Averette, but first I shall see Lady Averette to her room.” She placed her arm about the woman’s sunken shoulders. “Come, Viscountess. Gwendolyn requires your attention,” she encouraged as she directed Alice Aldridge’s unsteady steps toward the still open door.
    “I want you from my house,” Averette called to her retreating form. “Before the day is out,” he added triumphantly; yet, Grace refused to so much as turn her head. She would not give Lord Averette dominion over her. No man would hold such a place in her life.
    Ignoring the man’s posturing, Grace had spoken to the lady of the house, a timid woman chosen because of Samuel Aldridge’s propensity for coercion. “I have ordered your maid, Ma’am, to pack several items for you and for Gwendolyn. I suggest you spend some time with your parents in the North.”
    She guided Alice Aldridge’s steps to the main staircase. The viscountess glanced over her shoulder to where her husband ranted about the lack of assistance from his servants, “Viscount Averette will object,” she said tentatively.
    Grace steadied the woman’s stumbling steps. “His Lordship plans a journey of his own. He has ordered his coach,” Grace said softly. “The servants have their orders. Something bad is happening at The Ridge, and you and Gwen must not be a part of it.”
    “But what of you?” Lady Averette allowed Grace to lead the way toward the mistress’s private chambers.
    “I have long wished to return to Lancashire,” Grace said softly. If not for Lady Averette’s faltering composure, the house’s mistress would have heard the falsehoods, which laced Grace’s words. “I have family there.” Grace reached for the door latch. “If you would provide me a letter of reference, I shall find another position. Perhaps, something closer to my home,” she had added for good measure.
    Lady Averette stopped suddenly and gazed questionably upon Grace. “What of Gwendolyn? My daughter shall miss you terribly.” The woman caught Grace’s hand in her two. “My husband is simply out of sorts. Something concerning the estate or his nieces. I am certain Lord Averette will forgive your interruption of a few moments prior. You shall see. Everything shall return to normal.”
    Grace had experience all the normal she could tolerate in this