Grace returned home that afternoon in an unsettled state. She had known very well what James was rumoured to be — a flirt, a seducer, a lover of married women — but in her innocence she had not quite comprehended the full scope of the word lover. There was something very ugly about the world James had described, a world where the vows of marriage were so easily broken, and something frightening too. She had no wish for own marriage to be part of that world. Even if she never came to love James, any betrayal would hurt her, humiliate her.

Her anxiety was not aided by Mr Follet's mood at dinner that night. Normally, when there were no guests at the table, he took little part in the conversation except to censure Emma or Alice as needed. Tonight, however, he was in a cheerful mood (Cook had, for once, produced an extremely good dinner, even if all the main dishes were fish-based) and, after making humorous observations about Emma's hair and Alice's dress, complimented Grace on her looks and began to gloat about the upcoming wedding.

"Three weeks' courtship!" he said. "The couple must be nearly in love by now. In my day, a courtship lasted only as long as it took to read the Banns."

The thought of the Banns being read startled Grace. "I did not think James and I were to marry so quickly."

Alice looked up from her plate of scalloped oysters. "Last week you were complaining it was too long."

Mr Follet ignored them both "But then Grace always has been a creature of slow-moving passions." He gave a bark of laughter. "You take after your mother."

A rare thread of anger unfurled inside Grace at the comparison. She was not like her mother.

"I dare say a girl like you, Grace, needs to be told she's in love in order to be in it. I said the same to your mother, you know. A week before our wedding I told her she loved me and so she did. I will tell young Redwood to say the same to you."

For a moment, Grace could almost hear James saying the words in her ear, in that self-satisfied, butter-in-the-mouth way of his. Her hands clenched involuntarily on her cutlery and an oyster shell shot off her plate and rolled into the centre of the table.

Emma laughed. Even Mr Follet, in his cheerful mood, gave a thin smile.

"Perhaps I won't tell him to tell you that then."

"Please, Mr Follet," Mrs Follet said, "don't tease her."

"I'm not teasing, Nell. Just a bit of fun." Mr Follet's smile broadened. "I'm happy for Grace. This is going to be very good for her. James is just the sort of young man she needs. Of good family, of solid independence, and no legions of unmarried sisters to weigh down his purse strings. All that remains is for her to realize it, and fall in love."

"Is it James she needs," Alice inquired, "or his family and his purse strings?"

"There can come no good of marrying a man without means or family," Mr Follet said. "And Grace really has excelled Ellen and Harriet in this matter. Mr Underton has means enough, but he has no family worth speaking of. Mr Montague has family enough — perhaps even too many, with all his aunts and sisters — but his fortune is dreadfully encumbered by that difficult estate. But young Redwood comes of exactly the right sort of family, and his fortune, when he inherits it, is tied up in nothing."

"I hope he doesn't mismanage it," Mrs Follet said anxiously. "These young men..."

"I will be around to advise him, no doubt," Mr Follet said.

"I'm not sure James would like that," said Grace.

Mr Follet raised his eyebrows. "He will listen to good advice for the sake of his wife."

Grace was not sure James would do anything for her sake. She also had a suspicion he would not like being given advice by her father. She had noticed the tense set of his jaw whenever his mother gave him orders. At times, she even sympathized with it.

"And what did the two of you talk about today?" Mr Follet asked. "How did your courtship go?"

Grace looked down to hide the hot stain that rushed to her cheeks. "I played piquet with his mother."

"But James was there?"

"He was."

"Then you must have talked with him."

"Yes. A little."

"You're coming over all shy," Mr Follet observed. "I shall take that to mean that things are progressing very well."

"What did you talk about?" Alice demanded. "Was it his new boots again? Heaven knows how a man can spend so much time thinking about his clothes to such poor effect!"

"We had a private conversation, Alice. I don't wish to repeat it."

The denial — or perhaps it had been the quaver in her voice — was too much. Alice propped her elbows on the table and stared suspiciously at Grace.

"But the topic of such a conversation could surely not be private information?"

"Now, Alice," Mrs Follet said. "They are courting. It very well could be."

"No," said Alice. "Not with Grace. She doesn't know how to flirt. What happened today? What trouble did he give you now?"

"James gave me no trouble," Grace said. "Absolutely none. We talked of commonplace matters."

"Which happen to be private?" Alice raised her eyebrows. "Grace, Grace, you must watch your contradictions."

"I suppose he was polite?" Mrs Follet said. "Sometimes, I fear, he is a little... gauche."

"Nonsense," Mr Follet said. "You are far too delicate, Nell, far too nice in your expectations. You do not understand a man in his youth, or what might be expected of a courtship."

That was enough to shut Mrs Follet up, but not Alice.

"I do not think Mother is over-nice," Alice said. "I think James Redwood is less nice than he should be. Really, Grace, what was it he did today? Put his boots on the couch? Chew with his mouth open? Play dolls with the chessmen?"

"Nothing," Grace said. "He did nothing."

Mr Follet had decided that the conversation was over. "You have talked enough for the night, Alice," he said. "A young woman cannot be expected to dominate a dinner table conversation. And if we are to talk of manners, your elbows are on the table and you are slouching."

Alice rolled her eyes but kept silent for the rest of the meal. Without her chatter, neither Emma nor Mrs Follet dared talk much either, and Grace had not the spirit for it. The table fell into its usual moribund silence.

When there were no guests to entertain, Mr Follet never joined his wife and daughters in the drawing room after dinner, instead spending the evenings alone in his study. After dinner, Grace spent several minutes lingering outside the study door before she had the courage to knock. When she came in, Mr Follet was drinking port and reading a newspaper at his desk. He looked at her over the edge of his newspaper.

"What is it, Grace?"

The impatience Grace thought she detected in his tone gave her a surge of defiant determination. "It's about James."

"Ah. Young Master Redwood." Her father unbent enough to put his paper down on his desk. "What is it?"

"I said at dinner that nothing was wrong today, but I was not entirely truthful. He is very uncouth, father. His manner. His behaviour. His—"

"He is a lively young man. Even I was lively too, once upon a time, you know." Mr Follet winked at her. "I suppose he's tried to kiss you and you didn't like it. But you did agree to marry him, Grace. You can hardly be surprised."

Only anger allowed Grace to speak over the embarrassment she felt. "He has not tried to kiss me," she said stiffly. "I would not be offended if that were what he had done. No, Sir. This morning he told me about other women he has kissed. He said that I must have a full account of his sins, Sir. It was a long account."

Mr Follet fingered the pages of his newspaper as though he wanted to take it up again and end the conversation. "Now you have it."

"Now I do."

"I think you might appreciate the young man's honesty. He could have lied to you, Grace."

"But the way he said it—"

"It's a difficult conversation. There is no way he could have said it that would have been pleasing to your ears."

"He need not have said it at all, Father."

"Let us look at it in a more positive light. The young man is making an effort, Grace, to be open with you."

"That was not his object. I think he was teasing me, and it was a kind of teasing I greatly dislike. It was wicked."

Mr Follet narrowed his eyes thoughtfully then shook his head. "He's only pulling at the bit. He needs a bit of taking in hand, that's all. He's young. It's to be expected."

"I'm younger than he is—"

"—but considerably wiser." Mr Follet raised a single finger. "Of all my children, you are the most sensible. You always have been. You do know that?"

Grace was determined not to be distracted by flattery. "Father, how well do you really know James?"

"I know his father, and that is enough."

"But he is nothing like his father."

"No, no, no. Hereditary cannot be denied. As you are like your mother, James is like his father. Now Redwood was quite the sport when he was younger, you know. There wasn't a hedge he wouldn't dare jump on his hunter. And I can tell you—" Mr Follet chuckled "—he was very fond of pranks. Played all manner of tricks upon his friends. Why, one time he dressed up as an old woman and... but that story is not fit for your ears, my dear." The smile lingered on Mr Follet's face. "Yes, yes," he said, taking up his newspaper again. "They really are two peas in a pod."

"Father, I fear you have been mistaken in James. The more I know him, the more I become convinced that he is a thoroughly indecent man."

Mr Follet slowly lowered his newspaper. "Stop fretting, Grace. You worry far too much. I assure you, James will behave with absolute decency towards you as his wife."

Grace opened her mouth to argue.

"I assure you," Mr Follet repeated emphatically. "Now do be a good girl and let me read my paper."

It was useless. She should have known better than to try. Grace bit back the protest on her lips and went to the drawing room. When she opened the door, her mother and sisters fell into a silence so sudden she knew they had been talking about her.

"Well then?" Grace said sharply. "What is it?"

"Wh-why nothing," Emma stammered. "What would it be?"

"You were obviously talking about me before I came in. What were you saying?"

Mrs Follet never could maintain a deception. She went pink. "We were just wondering, my dear, if you aren't a little unhappy?"

"We can't be happy all the time," Grace said. "I'm adequately felicitous."

"Anyone who uses a word like felicitous isn't," Alice said. "What were you talking about with Father?"

"Private matters."

"It was James," Alice said. "I bet you told him — or came as close as you could — that you can't stand the sight of the odious man. And he ignored it, of course, trampled right over you, patted you on the head and said it was nothing to worry about. Well I'm worried. We're all worried. You've always been a sourpuss, but lately — well lately you've been worse."

That Alice could so accurately diagnose what had gone on in her father's study only made Grace angrier. "It's fortunate my sourness won't be inflicted upon you much longer then."

"I don't mind if you inflict it on me even more," Alice said generously. "You don't have to marry him."

"We are engaged."

"Engagements are broken every day. You've broken one before."

For a moment, Grace was almost tempted, but Alice spoke again too soon:

"I mean, really, what we've all been saying — that is, not mother, but me and Emma — is that you shouldn't marry him."

"Yes," Emma added. "It's so obviously a disaster waiting to happen."

"Quoth Cassandra," Grace said dryly.

The thin line appeared between Mrs Follet's brows. "It's just that you look so very unhappy, my dear. Which isn't to say that it should all be thrown up and abandoned, but it's much easier to know what to do about these things when you talk about them with people." She tried to smile. "You can talk about James to me, you know."

"There is nothing to talk about." Grace took up her mending basket and went over to the fire where the light was best. "I'm not going to be one of those women — like Harriet — who never speaks of her husband but to complain about him."

"In that case," Alice said, "I can't imagine you'll ever have a single word to say about James at all."

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A/N 2021-07-03: Part of the reason it took me so long to write this story was that I struggled to make Grace an interesting character. At one point, I actually considered making one of her sisters the love interest, but it would have been a very different kind of story.