XVI

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"Why are old lovers able to become friends? Two reasons. They never truly loved each other, or they love each other still." Whitney Otto, How to Make an American Quilt

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XVI.

Grace managed to keep her composure as she fixed Sarah's hair as best she could. It turned out quite pretty in the end, and the collected the gown from the bed to take down to the laundry for ironing, promising to return as quickly as she could.

She made her way directly toward the passageway panel that would take her into the internal staircases, holding onto the gown tightly, as though she was channelling all of her nerves into it.

"Grace, I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Grace nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard her name being called, but she knew exactly who it was. She looked up to find Susanna running down the hallway towards her, still dressed in her nightgown, her blonde hair in rags.

"Good morning, Susanna," Grace uttered quietly, not wanting anyone, even if she couldn't see them, to hear her calling a lady by her Christian name.

Susanna looked at Grace's attire curiously as she slowed down to meet her. "Why are you wearing a lady's maid uniform?" she asked.

"Because I am a lady's maid," Grace said awkwardly. "Your mother gave me the position last night. I am attending Lady Sarah while she is here."

Susanna looked utterly dumbfounded, and Grace could appreciate her confusion. If one did not know of the duchess' ulterior motive, it would be hard to understand why she would offer such a position to a housemaid who had been in the household employ for only a few months.

"Mother spoke to you last night?" she checked once the initial shock had worn off.

Grace nodded. "Yes."

"My, she moves quickly," muttered Susanna under her breath before she shook off the thought. "I need two things from you Grace, or is it Denham now?"

"Please continue to call me Grace," she insisted. She didn't much like being barked at with her surname, even if it was a higher level of status among servants.

Susanna smiled. "Please tell me that you are not angry with me. You have had a few days to ... stop being angry with me, even if you said you weren't cross. You are still my friend, aren't you?" she asked hopefully.

Grace frowned. Susanna's initial line of questioning made all the more sense now. Susanna had been under the impression that Grace had treated her brother awfully. She was protecting Adam, just as Grace would protect any one of her siblings. "Of course, I am not angry with you," she promised. "and yes, I still want us to be friends." 

Susanna breathed a sigh of relief. "Good," she said gratefully. "Now, tell me, your sister, Miss Claire, her hair last night was simply lovely. Did you do it?"

Grace smiled slightly. Perhaps she was not so terrible at hair as she thought she was. "Yes, I did," she confirmed. "I did think she looked really pretty last night."

Susanna lifted her hands to her hair and pulled at a couple of the rags. "Would you be so kind as to help me with my hair this morning?" she asked eagerly. "Mother's maid usually does my hair, but her styles are terribly boring. I would so like your taste."

"I would love to help you, Susanna, but I need to go down to the laundry," said Grace regretfully, holding up the gown in her hands. "Lady Sarah's church dress needs ironing."

Susanna pouted. "Oh, please?" she begged. "We will not be leaving for church for at least another two hours. That is plenty of time to fix my hair and to iron that dress, don't you think?" Susanna didn't give Grace much opportunity to rebut before she had seized her arm and was running with her back towards her bedroom.

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