Free The Chain Garden by Jane Jackson Page B

restrained her. ‘Richard and I will take care of Granny this evening. A couple of glasses of sherry should loosen her up.’
    Grace caught his arm, her voice low. ‘Bryce, be careful. We don’t want –’
    ‘We don’t want to see you running about after Granny. This is your party and your guests will be arriving at any moment. There’s the doorbell.’ He patted her hand. ‘Here they come. Enjoy yourself.’
    Grace’s heart had leapt into her throat. She clasped her hands tightly hoping to stop their renewed trembling as the door opened to admit John Ainsley.
    ‘Happy birthday, Grace.’ John kissed his niece’s cheek and handed her a package. ‘I hope you’ll find this useful.’
    She undid the wrappings and found writing case of tooled leather and an elegant fountain pen. ‘Oh, they’re wonderful! Thank you, Uncle John. How very kind.’
    ‘It was my pleasure.’ Smiling, John Ainsley took a glass of sherry. As he moved away the door opened again to admit Mary Prideaux with Alice Hawkins close behind. Richard turned expectantly towards the door.
    ‘Happy birthday, my dear,’ Mary kissed Grace. ‘I came via Polwellan and collected Alice. Poor Sophie sends her apologies.’ Her words stopped Richard in his tracks. ‘She has developed a streaming cold and is confined to bed. Mrs Hawkins asked me to tell you how desperately disappointed she is. She was so looking forward to coming.’
    ‘I’m so sorry she’s not well.’ Seeing Richard’s expression Grace knew Sophie’s disappointment could not be deeper than his.
    ‘Happy birthday, Grace.’ Alice pressed two flat packages tied with red ribbon into Grace’s hand. These were opened to reveal some embroidered handkerchiefs and a handmade bookmark.
    ‘That’s so kind of you, Alice. Please tell Sophie I’ll write to her.’
    ‘Yes. Will you excuse me?’
    ‘Oh dear,’ Mary said softly beside Grace as they watched Alice approach Bryce with fluttering lashes. Turning to Grace she smiled. ‘I have a feeling the coming year is going to be a very special one for you.’ She pressed a package into Grace’s hand. ‘A small token of my affection and regard.’
    Opening the little box Grace gasped. Nestling in midnight-blue velvet was a dainty gold ring set with a turquoise surrounded by seed pearls.
    ‘Oh, Mary! It’s beautiful.’
    ‘Here, let me hold the box.’ Mary took it as Grace extracted the ring and slipped it onto the third finger of her right hand.
    ‘It’s just perfect. I – I don’t know what to say. Except thank you,’ she added quickly. ‘It’s – I’m –’ Shaking her head she gazed at the ring.
    Mary squeezed her arm. ‘Happy birthday, my dear. Your mother’s calling me. I see you have another guest.’

Chapter Six
    Grace looked up as Edwin walked in. A head taller than Richard whose hand he was shaking, he looked thin and pale in his black frock coat and clerical collar. Brown hair, silky as a spaniel’s, flopped over his forehead. Her heartbeat thundered, drowning the babble of conversation. Her mouth was suddenly dry. Aware of telltale heat climbing her throat she bent her head. She had been so afraid he wouldn’t come. Go and welcome him. She forced herself forward, saw him excuse himself to Richard. She swallowed.
    ‘Good evening, Mr Philpotts. How kind of you to come.’ Hearing her own voice sounding perfectly calm lifted a great weight from her shoulders. Shyly she offered her hand. As he took it she was astonished to feel his fingers as cold as her own.
    ‘Good evening, Miss Damerel. It was generous of you to invite me.’
    Though brief his clasp was firm. Suddenly she felt immeasurably better.
    He cleared his throat. ‘Given our short acquaintance I cannot presume to call myself a friend.’
    Yes you can. I wish you would. Acutely conscious of an audience she felt her face burning.
    ‘However, in honour of your birthday I hope you will accept this small gift with all – with my best wishes.’
    Raising