“You are scheming,” Maria said, unable to help the smile at the corner of her mouth.
“Not scheming,” Charity protested. “Arranging.”
“That is worse,” Maria said.
Temperance lifted a brow. “Arranging is only wrong when done without consent.”
“Then be frank,” Maria said. “What do you want with Stephen?”
Alethea rested her chin on her hand. “Only to see how he looks at you.”
“That is not a plan,” Maria said.
“It is my plan,” Alethea said, unconcerned.
Prudence leaned forward.
“We have missed you. We are pleased that you’re doing better. We just want to see you together with our own eyes.”
Charity squeezed Maria’s wrist again. “We will not provoke him.”
“I will,” Temperance said. “If he deserves it.”
“He does not,” Maria said, “And I will not have him harried into being charming for your entertainment.”
“We shall harry no one,” Prudence said. “Should he wander this way by accident, we shall observe what the accident reveals. If he stays in the study, we shall leave you in peace.”
Maria shook her head. “If he comes, you must not make him uncomfortable under any circumstances.”
“Of course we shall,” Alethea said.
“You are all acting rather mysterious,” Maria said, her tone growing suspicious with each passing second.
She did not know her friends to be meddlesome, but they were certainly acting as if who was meddlesome.
“We are actingattentive,” Prudence emphasized as though it was any better.
“And we shall not do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Temperance tried to reassure, though it had the opposite impact.
Maria looked at the three of them in turn and pressed her lips together into a tight line.
“I am not entirely persuaded.”
“Then we shall earn your trust,” Prudence said smoothly. “By talking of something else entirely.”
“Yes,” Maria said briskly. “Let us. Anything else.”
“But what better topic is there than love?” Alethea laughed, steering the conversation back to where it was.
“Not that,” Maria blurted out immediately, “It is…. it is not yet love.”
Even as she said the words, a knot settled itself into her stomach.
They stared at her, almost in disbelief.
“Not yet,” Prudence repeated delicately. “What a promising adverb. How can that be?”
“You may not be ready to call it love, but I am certain that it exists,” Alethea replied.