She shook her head, her distress obvious. She glanced toward the ballroom as if torn whether to follow her friend. “Frances didn’t realize that I—that we—” She broke off, clearly at a loss as to how to explain.
“That we have come to care for one another?” He hoped that was true.
“As you might have guessed, she cares for you as well.”
Joseph frowned, well aware she hadn’t answered. Confirmation of his suspicion still came as a surprise considering how Miss Melbourne acted around him. Her shyness might explain some of it but not all in his opinion. “Are you certain?”
“Quite.” Harriet heaved a sigh. “She asked for my help to catch your notice.” She gestured toward the paper he still held. “That was why she started writing you messages.”
“They sound so different from what little I know of her.”
“I helped with them.”
“Ah.” He nodded and flashed a small smile. “That explains it.”
“Again, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I need to see if she’s all right.”
“Of course.” As she turned away, Joseph said, “Harriet? You are a good friend.”
To his surprise, she looked as if she might cry at his words. “No, I’m clearly not.”
Before he could say anything more, she hurried inside.
Joseph slipped the message back into his pocket and gripped the wrought-iron railing as he looked up at the night sky. Life could be complicated. This was certainly one of those times.
Had he done something to make Miss Melbourne think he cared? He scoffed, thinking of the messages he’d written. While he’d been careful with his replies, he’d also thought they might have been from Harriet.
How unfortunate that Miss Melbourne witnessed them holding hands. He hoped that hadn’t ruined their friendship. And he dearly hoped it wouldn’t change Harriet’s feelings toward him.
~*~
HARRIET GLANCED AROUNDthe ballroom but didn’t see Frances anywhere. Thomas stood at the opposite side looking about with a furrowed brow as if also searching for Frances.
Next, she peeked into the reception room where they’d gathered before the ball only to find it empty. That left only one other place she might be. Harriet hurried up the stairs and paused before Frances’ bedroom door, remorse filling her at the sound of weeping.
She knocked. “Frances, may I come in?”
The weeping stopped, but her friend didn’t reply.
“Please, Frances. I would like to explain.” Though she feared what she had to say wouldn’t help.
After a long moment, the door opened, revealing Frances with tear-filled eyes and a handkerchief pressed to her nose. The fact that she looked hurt rather than angry only made Harriet feel worse.
“I’m so sorry.”
Frances sniffed and turned away. Harriet took that as permission to come in and closed the door behind her.
“I should’ve told you from the beginning,” Harriet said.
“I wish you would’ve,” Frances murmured as she wiped her nose.
“Remember the league meeting when you volunteered to be the next to go forward withFor Better or Worse?”
“Yes.”
“I intended to volunteer that day as well.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”