He shrugged. “That may be true. Nevertheless, I must try.” He set his feet firmly and gave her his most honest assessment. “Are you willing to make me your enemy? When we have been so successful as friends?”
He watched her gaze waver just for a moment. A brief flash as intelligence warred with jealousy. “Get out of my sight,” she snapped. “You have until your ridiculous masquerade to change your mind.”
“I won’t,” he declared.
“Then I will take great pleasure in ending you by the midnight unveiling.”
Chapter Two
“Why are youstaring at those children?”
Gwendolyn Rees jolted as her mother’s voice cut through her thoughts. A lie sprang quickly to her lips, an automatic reaction begun at the age of fourteen in response to any question from her mother.
“I’m drawing the Paeonia Lactiflora,” she said. She lifted up the barest outline of the white wing peonies in her journal. Fortunately, she was a terrible artist and her design didn’t look anything like the true flower. Her mother would never guess that the plants were actually several feet to the right of the children.
“Well, someone ought to look at those children because their nanny definitely isn’t.”
No, the nanny was flirting with a footman. She was leaning alluringly against a tree while he stepped close enough to speak into her ear. Gwen could hear the woman’s laugh in reaction to whatever he said. The sound was high and nervous as her cheeks pinked. And all the while, the two children were playing with fallen cherry tree branches. The boy used his as a sword, of course, but the girl was looking closely at something on the branch. A flower, most likely, though it might be an irregular bump or a broken leaf. One never knew with children. Adults, on the other hand, always looked at the pretty things.
Her mother was no different as she turned her face to the sunshine. “Look at all those cherry blossoms. No wonder you came here today. They’re beautiful.”
She came to the park every morning. She liked getting out of the house before her mother woke. It allowed her to dress without criticism and read or sketch without interruption. And—for the last month—it allowed her to look at the children and question her life choices.
“Where is your bonnet?” her mother asked. “You’re going to increase your freckles.”
“You’re up and about early, Mother. What brings you outdoors today?”
“You, of course.” She settled herself onto the bench beside Gwen. And once she finished twitching her skirts into place, she took a moment to adjust her daughter’s. Gwen suffered the attention simply because her gaze had gone back to the children.
The little girl had straightened up, her arm held stiffly out as an insect crawled up her wrist. Far from being upset, the child studied it with fierce concentration while Gwen wanted to shout, Bravo! How wonderful for a girl to want to learn about creeping crawly things. Except at that moment, the nanny woke to her duty. Rushing forward, the woman swatted the beetle aside which flew away in a low trajectory into the nearest bush. The child exclaimed in dismay and was scolded for her outrage. In such a way, another girl was taught that interest in the natural world was wrong.
“Disgraceful,” Gwen’s mother exclaimed.
Gwen heartily agreed.
“Now the girl must be bathed in harsh soap to prevent disease.”
Gwen heartily disagreed.
“It was just a beetle,” she said.
“When it comes to children, one must be ever vigilant.”
That was her mother summed up in one sentence. The woman devoted herself to making sure her children lived the lives she chose for them. No effort was too large, no tactic too heinous in the campaign to force her children into a future she considered appropriate. Which was why Gwen spent much of her life trying to avoid a single moment with her mother. She had never fit any of her mother’s plans, and so was ever vigilant in thwarting the woman.
Until recently, that is, when she discovered she might agree with one of her mother’s plans.
“Perhaps we should discuss the Season,” Gwen offered. The parties were about to start, her mother’s pre-Season planning had finished with the delivery of several new gowns, and now that Elliott had found a bride, Gwen knew she would become the brunt of her mother’s matrimonial schemes. She was therefore steeled to negotiate what she would and would not do in the coming weeks.
“Not yet,” her mother said, proving that her mother still had the capacity to surprise her.
Gwen dropped her charcoal in shock. “What?”
Her mother folded her hands atop a wrapped package and lifted her chin. She didn’t quite meet Gwen’s eyes, but focused on her cheek instead. “I should like to give you your birthday present first.”
“Thank you, Mother. But wouldn’t you prefer to wait until—”
“I got up at this ridiculously early hour to do this now. So no, I would not like to wait another moment, if you please.”