But Im certain shell learn everything she needs to know in school, Rose said. And Id prefer her to have a religious education.
I dont think sending her off to a parish school will really serve her well, Geneva said. Id like to provide her with a tutor. That way, she can get the very best education. And, when shes older, if she wants to have a profession, then shell be prepared.
But the parish school would
The parish school will teach her just enough so she can keep house and cook meals and raise children, Geneva said. Im talking about more. French and art history and literature.
Why would she ever have need of that?
Maybe she wont, Geneva said. But it will expand her mind. It will make her want more for herself than what most Irish girls do.
It will make her yearn for things she can never have, Rose countered stubbornly. It was the wrong thing to do. Every ounce of sense told her that the more Mary Grace came to depend on Geneva, the more shed be hurt when she realized this fine life was far beyond her reach. Perhaps this was the price? Her daughters broken heart?
And if she turned Mary Grace over to Genevas care, then what part would she play in her daughters life? Mary Grace had already become accustomed to the luxuries of life at Porter Hall. Rose wanted to believe that the time they spent together as mother and daughter would form the woman shed become. It is too generous, she said. Im sure Lord Porter would not approve.
Genevas eyebrow shot up and she gave Rose a cool look. My husband would have you both out on the street again. It is only my generosity and affection for Grace that keeps you here.
In that single sentence, Rose knew the decision wasnt hers to make. She could either chose to fight and lose, or surrender immediately. I see. And what say will I have in my daughters life?
You know you are ill, Geneva said, her voice suddenly conciliatory. You grow weaker by the day. Consumption is not a disease that one recovers from, my dear.
Just the word sent a shiver down Roses spine. She suspected that her bouts with lung fever were more than just a passing illness, but hadnt wanted to admit there was something more serious affecting her health. And if she admitted it now, then surely she would be put out. Its not consumption, she said. My lungs were weakened by fever while Grace and I were living on the streets. It hasnt affected my work. And I will recover.
Geneva stared at her for a long moment, then smiled. Of course you will. But the more time she spends at the house with me and her tutors, the more time you have to rest and recover.
II suppose youre right, Rose said.
Of course I am. We are agreed then. Geneva stood and smoothed her hands over the waist of her frock. Im so glad we had this little talk. Ill see to hiring a tutor for Grace. And shell begin her studies next month.
Rose got to her feet and gave her a curtsey. Thank you, Lady Porter. For your generosity. Im sure that my Mary Grace will do her best to please you.
Geneva nodded, then walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Rose immediately went to the wardrobe and grabbed an armful of clothing, tossing it on the bed. They couldnt stay. They would leave tonight, sneak off while the family slept. Shed be able to find another position, perhaps not one as comfortable as this, but certainly with her experience and A fit of coughing overtook her and Rose bent forward, her hands braced on her knees, gasping for breath.
When she regained her composure, she sat down on the window seat and pressed her palm to her chest. There would be no references. And without references, there would probably be no job. Who would hire her? Geneva was right. She was sick. And she had a daughter who wasnt yet old enough to take care of herself. Her choices were no better than they had been that day when Geneva found them on the front steps of the church.
The money shed saved would last them three or four months at the most and after that, theyd be right back to where they began. There would have to be another way to hold on to her daughter. Rose took the clothes back to the wardrobe and carefully hung them up, then noticed the diary sitting on the top shelf.
She closed her eyes and hugged it to her chest. This would be the way. Since shed arrived at Porter Hall, she rarely opened it. But now, shed begin reading it to her daughter. And if the day came when she was no longer in this world, then her daughter would know where she came from. And she would remember.
She opened the leather-bound book and began to read a passage, the words coming back to her, renewing her strength. She would go on one more day, and after that, another. And no matter what disaster or tragedy befell her, she would carry on for as long as God let her live on this earth.
13 September 1845
I know not where to begin. Michael is gone a month already and I imagine him standing onboard a wonderful sailing ship, on his way to America and a new life for us both. But life back here in Ireland has grown troubled. Weve begun to dig the crop and a terrible thing has happened. After but a day or two out of the earth, the potatoes begin to putrefy. None are fit to eat and I am forced to take what is left from the rest of our garden patch. Without the cow to provide milk, my belly is hungry most of the time. I pray that Michael will send for me as soon as he arrives in America, for our lifethe babys and mine becomes more fragile with each day that passes.
ITS BEAUTIFUL. LOOK AT ITS little ears. Oh, Edward, it looks so real.
Edward held a tiny carved rabbit up on his palm and Grace studied it more closely. I like it better than the turtle I made for you, he offered.
I think all your animals are wonderful, Grace said.
What would you like me to make now? He spread the carving tools in front of him and picked up a small piece of wood that Dennick had brought him. Ive wanted to try a horse, but I think the legs would be hard to carve.
Grace lined up her small menagerie, rearranging the animals on the blanket that theyd spread on the grass. He hadnt many friends, but he could count Grace as his best. Sure, she was only six years old, but she was a lot like Charlotte, always interested in what he was doing and thinking. In truth, since shed come to Porter Hall, Edward had nearly forgotten Charlotte and all the sadness that had followed her death.
His mother had been happier than hed seen her in a long time, her dark moods coming only occasionally now. And though Malcolm barely tolerated Grace, hed become too busy with his own school chums to care much about what either of them did. In truth, it had been a relief when Malcolm had decided to continue his studies at a private school in Dublin. He left early each morning and returned right before supper, then spent the rest of the evening working on his studies.
Edwards father had insisted that Edward be enrolled as well, the argument going on for days before a final decision was made. In the end, Geneva had won out and Edward continued on with his tutor. But the fight had caused the two factions in the Porter family to become even more distant. Edward was Genevas son and Malcolm belonged to Henry and decisions would be made accordingly.
He wanted his father to love him as much as he loved Malcolm. But there were qualities in his father and brother that he could never understandor accept. They were both self-centered and cold-hearted, with a cruel streak that ran deep. And they considered themselves above others, especially the Irish. Edward had never been able to understand their hatred of a people that he found warm and charming and kind-hearted.
Oh, make me a kitten, Grace said.
He picked up the block of wood. Are you sure? Wouldnt you like a jungle animal? I could try a lion.
Grace nodded, a wide smile on her face. Yes. A lion then. She continued to play with the little animals, walking them across the blanket and talking to them. When shed made a gift of the carving tools, hed realized how well Grace knew him. There was no one in the world who knew him better.
What do you have there?
Edward turned around to find Malcolm standing over them. He was thirteen now and had grown so much bigger since his last birthday. But hed also become lazy and unkempt, unconcerned with his appearance. He wore his school uniform, the jacket rumpled, as if hed slept in it, and the trousers were stained with mud. It looked like hed been in another fight at school.
Wood carvings, Edward muttered, turning back to Grace.
Wood carvings, Malcolm mimicked in a high-pitched voice. He bent over Graces shoulder and plucked the rabbit off of her palm.
She jumped up and tried to get it back, but Malcolm grabbed the wooden animal by the ears and pulled, then let the pieces fall to the grass. A tiny cry slipped from Graces throat and she knelt down to pick up the broken rabbit.
A blinding anger filled Edwards head and with a primal growl, he tossed aside the tool and hurled himself at Malcolms legs, driving his older brother to the ground. The tackle caught Malcolm by surprise and knocked the wind out of him, giving Edward time enough to land a few decent punches to the face. When he bloodied his brothers nose, Edward sat back on his heels.
You ugly piece of shite, Edward muttered, twisting his brothers arm around his back. What would you do that for? Why would you hurt her feelings like that?
Get off me! Malcolm shouted, twisting beneath him. But no matter how he struggled, Edward kept hold of him. Though hed fought with his brother in the past, the fights had always ended with one of their parents stepping between them or with Edward surrendering. But he had an advantage now and he wasnt going to give up.
Apologize, Edward demanded.
Get off, Malcolm shouted, kicking and punching at Edward. Though he landed a few hard jabs, they didnt hurt, the anger coursing through Edward dulling the pain. This time had been coming for a long while, the chance for Edward to stand up to his brothers cruelty, the chance to stand up for Grace. But Edward knew that hed only bested him through a surprise attack. He was still far too small to do so on a daily basis.
Stop, Grace begged, trying to pull the two of them apart. Please, Edward, stop. You can make me another rabbit.
No, Edward growled. Not until he apologizes. Edward twisted Malcolms arm again and his older brother cried out in pain.
All right, he muttered. Im sorry. Im sorry I broke your bloody bunny. Now let me go.
Edward released his hold and rocked back on his heels. Malcolm scrambled to his feet, then gave his younger brother a shove, sending him back into the grass. Dont you ever put your hands on me again, he threatened.
Then stay away from Grace, and stay away from me.
Malcolm brushed the grass off his trousers, then strode back toward the house. Grace bent down beside Edward and placed her hand on his shoulder. Why does he have to be so mean? she asked.
I dont know, he replied. Before Charlottes death, Malcolm had been so different. Theyd all cared about each other, protected each other. But now, he had an anger inside of him that grew stronger every day. And he seemed to delight in taking it out on the nearest vulnerable target. Usually that was their mother, often it was Edward. But now, he preferred Grace as his object of torment.
If he bothers you, you have to tell me, Edward said. She was so much weaker, unable to defend herself against a bully who was seven years older. As hed done for his mother, Edward would now try to protect Grace.
Dont tell your mother, she whispered. She might want to send me away.
No, Edward said, taking her hand. Shed never do that. She loves you. He smiled. I love you, too, Grace.
She returned the smile. And I love you, Edward.
What is going on out here? Rose approached, her skirts rustling as she walked toward them. I heard shouting. And Malcolm has a bloody nose.
Nothing, Edward said. Malcolm fell out of the tree.
She held out her hand to Grace, then pulled her to her feet. Come along, Mary Grace. I need you to help me with the ironing. You mustnt bother Master Edward.
Shes not bothering me, Edward said. Grace is my friend.
Rose hitched her hands on her hips. No, she said. Mary Grace is a servant in this house. She works here along with me. There will be no friendship. You are not equals.
With that, Rose turned and pulled Grace along behind her. Edward watched them leave, puzzled by her statement. Though he understood Roses position in the household, hed never thought of Grace as a servant. His mother treated her like a daughter, dressing her in Charlottes old clothes and making gifts of Charlottes books and toys.
But perhaps that was Graces job in the household, to keep his mother happy, to stave off the dark moods that always accompanied Genevas grief over Charlottes death. Though he was only ten years old, Edward understood the difference between servants and their masters. Hed seen his father turn out kitchen maids and gardeners without a second thought as to how they might survive without a job.
He gathered up the tools and Graces animal collection, then walked back to the coach house. Though it was a simple fact, Edward still couldnt think of Grace in that way. It wasnt proper to love a servant, not the same way he loved his sister. But his feelings were his own, and as much as Malcolm hated Grace, Edward loved her even more.
The door to the coach house opened and Grace emerged with a small wicker laundry basket filled with linen napkins. She struggled to get it out the door and Edward jumped up and grabbed it from her.
Dont, she said.
Ill help you.
Grace shook her head. Mama says we shouldnt be friends. She says its not right.
No, Edward said. Shes wrong. My father is the master and shes the servant. Thats nothing to do with us.
She says someday Ill work for you. That I mustnt love you like my brother. I must respect you like my master.
Edward wrested the basket from her arms, the napkins tumbling onto the grass. No! I wont have it. If Im your master, then I order you to be my friend.
She fell to the ground and began to pick up the table linens, carefully refolding them and putting them back into the basket. II want to be your friend, Edward. But well have to be secret friends.
Yes, he said. We can do that. We will swear an oath. Where shall we meet?
In the stable, Grace said. In the afternoon, while Mama takes her nap and Lady Porter writes her letters. No one will find us there.
Edward nodded, then picked up the basket and placed it in her hands. He set the animals on top, wrapping them up in a napkin. We will meet tomorrow.
Grace nodded, then hurried along to the kitchens. Edward sighed softly. Grace had been his from the moment hed first found her at the church. She was the only person in the world who loved him for who he was, the only person who mattered to him. There were times when he believed what his mother believed, that Charlotte had come back in Graces body. He saw it in her delicate features, in her sweet nature and her unbending loyalty, in her sparkling blue eyes and raven black hair.