And then?—
Footsteps.
Distant, echoing down the marble hallway like a shot of reality.
She startled, breath catching.
“I must—m-my s-sister--” she stammered, flustered, skirts clenched in her fists as she pivoted in confusion, moving one way, then the other.
“Run along, then, lamb,” he murmured, low and amused, “while I watch the rushin’ wolves.”
She didn’t thank him. She didn’t look back. She fled.
And behind her, she heard it: the soft, rumbling laugh of the man she should never have spoken to at all.
Thunder rolled beyond the windows. It echoed through the gallery like a warning.
And still, her pulse raced.
Chapter Four
“You did not attempt to employ the least bit of charm on your suitors last night,” Lady Grisham declared harshly.
“And you, Wilhelmina,” she continued. “You are too—toferalfor a debutante. You will scare everyone away!”
“That was the intention, Mother,” Wilhelmina replied. “Do you really want me to marry someone who can’t handle me?”
“Your husband will handle you in different ways, Wilhelmina. He will provide you with an allowance and a home to be the mistress of. Then, you’ll provide him with heirs. It is the way of our world,” Lady Grisham said with finality.
“And you, Elizabeth, would have paved the path better for your sisters if you had not looked like an awkward fool the whole time.” The words hurt, but she was used to them. “Remember what we talked about. A girl who looks like you should have iteasy, but you managed to push away all the suitors you somehow attracted with your bumbling about.”
“What does Elizabeth have to remember, Mother?” Wilhelmina asked suspiciously, quickly following the conversation.
“We should not be talking about that. We should be talking about more important things,” Elizabeth mumbled.
“Nothing of importance to you, dear,” Lady Grisham agreed with Elizabeth simply by ignoring her addressing Wilhelmina instead. “She just needs to marry this Season. With every ball, she should establish her presence to be remembered and wanted to be somebody’s bride. Unfortunately, she is doing the opposite.”
“I suspect it would matter to me if it involves a conversation between my mother and my sister,” Wilhelmina insisted.
“Focus on your own manners,” her mother advised, with flashing eyes that seemed to warn her to know her limits.
Wilhelmina sighed heavily and went back to digging at her breakfast.
Elizabeth was relieved to discover that she had a free afternoon—free in that she need not socialize with members of the ton.
She was to spend her day with her thirteen-year-old twin sisters. She felt terrible for Wilhelmina, though, who had to go on a shopping trip with Lady Grisham.
“How was the ball, Lizzie?” Daphne asked, looking up from her book, her voice soft with curiosity.
A quiet morning in the drawing room was a balm after the storm of the previous night, and having her sisters close made speaking of it feel less like reopening a wound.
“It was, objectively, a well-planned event,” Elizabeth replied, folding her hands in her lap. “Everything was beautiful. The gowns, the decorations, the music. Even the food was thoughtful.”
Aesthetics, she thought vaguely, her mind conjuring an unwelcome image: the Scotsman’s sardonic smile, the gleam in his eyes, the heat that had crawled over her skin.
“I can hear a ‘but’ somewhere,” Victoria chimed in, sprawled on the carpet with her skirts tucked under her legs.
She was fanning out a deck of odd, painted cards on the rug before her.