She was emotionally invested in the tale, her eyes darting faster and faster across the page to devour every word, desperate to know what would become of Edmond—

“Grace?” Mrs. Weatherford’s voice broke into the story, shattering the scene playing out in Grace’s mind.

She startled and looked up at Mrs. Weatherford.

“Supper is nearly ready.” The older woman glanced about and tsked before rushing to the window. “You didn’t draw the curtains. I’m certain we’ll hear of it from Mr. Stokes later.”

Grace blinked, caught in a momentary state of confusion. It had grown rather dark. She’d recalled noticing it briefly and meaning to put on a light, but that had been when Mercédès and Edmond had their engagement party and the nefarious plotting had truly begun to unfold.

A light snapped on, a flash of brilliance that made the page bloom white in front of Grace’s eyes and rendered the stark black letters so much easier to see.

“What are you reading?” Mrs. Weatherford angled her face at the cover as she stepped closer.

“The Count of Monte Cristo.” Grace’s cheeks warmed. “It was the book Mr. Anderson left for me before he was called up.”

Mrs. Weatherford’s eyes dimmed. “That has always been one of Colin’s favorite books as well.”

“Have you heard from him?” Grace asked.

Mrs. Weatherford wandered aimlessly around the room, straightening an immaculate pile of magazines and plumping pillows that could truly not possibly fluff anymore. “I haven’t, though I expect I soon shall. You know how they train those boys so thoroughly before...” Her voice caught.

Before they’re sent into battle.

The words hung unsaid in the air, as well as the implication of danger.

“If you’d like to read it when I’m done, you may borrow it,” Grace offered in an attempt to change the subject.

“Thank you, but I have a lovely novel by Jane Austen from one of the book tokens you gave me. I haven’t read Emma yet.” She fidgeted with the blackout curtain, making sure it fell just so. “And I stay quite busy with the other women of the WVS, of course. Now come along before supper cools.”

The Women’s Voluntary Service had done Mrs. Weatherford a world of good in Colin’s absence. Not only did it keep her busy so she didn’t scrub the floors of the house into a carbolic oblivion, but she was in the company of other mothers in similar situations, whose sons were also at war.

Grace obediently set the book aside and went to the kitchen where they’d taken to eating their meals. The formal dining area felt far too large without Colin sitting opposite his mother.

Viv grinned at Grace as she entered. “I figured you wanted to skip our tea today considering how involved you were with George’s book.”