“Have I taught you nothing?” Lady Vickers’ eyes, as clear and sober as Annabel had ever seen them, settled hard on hers. “It doesn’t matter what you do, it matters what people think you do. And you’re staring at that man like you’re in love with him.”
But she was.
“I’ll try to do better,” was all Annabel said.
She finished her meal, because there was no way she would be seen running off to her room right after her grandmother publicly scolded her. But as soon as she’d finished eating, she excused herself and retired for the afternoon. She told Sebastian she needed to rest. Which was true. And that she did not want to be present when his uncle finally arrived.
Which was also true.
So she’d settled on her bed withMiss Sainsbury . And her mysterious colonel. And told herself that she deserved an afternoon to herself. She had a great deal to think about.
She knew what she wanted to do, and she knew what sheshould do, and she knew that these were not the same things at all.
She also knew that if she kept her head in a book for the entire afternoon, she might be able to ignore the whole awful mess for a few hours.
Which was remarkably appealing.
Maybe if she just waited long enough, something would happen, and all of her problems would disappear.
Her mother could find a long-lost diamond necklace.
Lord Newbury could find a girl with even bigger hips.
There could be a flood. A plague. Really, the world was full of calamities. Just look at poor Miss Sainsbury. In chapters three through eight she’d fallen off the side of a ship, was captured by a privateer, and nearly trampled by a goat.
Who was to say the same things might not happen to her?
Although, all things considered, the diamond necklace was a bit more appealing.
But a girl could hide for only so long, and so now she was sitting in front of the mirror, getting her hair yanked this way and that while Louisa filled her in on what she had missed.
“I saw Lord Newbury,” Louisa said.
Annabel let out a groany sort of sigh.
“He was talking with Lord Challis. He…ah …” Louisa swallowed nervously and plucked at the lace adornment on her dress. “He said something about a special license.”
“What? Ow!”
“Don’t move so suddenly,” Nettie scolded.
“What did he say about a special license?” Annabel whispered urgently. Not that there was any real reason to whisper. Nettie knew everything that was going on. Annabel had already promised two bonnets and a pair of shoes to keep quiet.
“Just that he had one. That was why he was so late. He came straight from Canterbury.”
“Did you speak with him?”
Louisa shook her head. “I don’t even think he saw me. I was reading in the library, and the door was open. They were in the corridor.”
“A special license,” Annabel repeated in a dull voice. A special license. It meant a couple could marry quickly, without posting banns. Three entire weeks could be saved, and the ceremony could take place anywhere, in any parish. At any time, even, although most couples still stuck to the traditional Saturday morning.
Annabel caught her own gaze in the looking glass. It was Thursday night.
Louisa reached out and took her hand. “I can help you,” she said.
Annabel turned to her cousin. Something about her voice made her uneasy. “What do you mean?”
“I have—” Louisa stopped, looking up at Nettie, who was spearing Annabel with another pin. “I need to speak with my cousin privately.”
“I only have this one last piece,” Nettie said, giving it what Annabel deemed a more vigorous twist than necessary. She fixed it into place with a pin and left the room.
“I have money,” Louisa said, just as soon as the door closed. “Not very much, but enough to help.”
“Louisa, no.”
“I never spend all of my pin money. My father gives me far more than I need.” She gave a sad little shrug. “It’s to make up for his absence in every other corner of my life, I’m sure. But that doesn’t matter. The point is, I can send some to your family. It will be enough to keep your brothers in school for another term, at least.”
“And the term after that?” Annabel said. Because therewould be a term after that. And then another. And as generous as Louisa’s offer was, it would not last forever.
“We’ll deal with that when it comes. At the very least, we’ll have bought you a bit of time. You can meet someone else. Or maybe Mr. Grey—”
“Louisa!”
“No, listen to me,” Louisa interrupted. “Maybe he has money no one knows about.”
“Don’t you think he’d have said something if he did?”
“He hasn’t—”
“No, he hasn’t,” Annabel cut in, hating the way her voice was cracking. But it washard . It was hard to think about Sebastian and all of the reasons why she shouldn’t marry him. “He said he’s not a pauper and he said we wouldn’t starve, but when I reminded him that there are eight of us, he made a joke about our growing thin!”
Louisa winced, then tried to dismiss it. “Well, we knew he wasn’t as wealthy as the earl. But really, who is? And you don’t need jewels and palaces, do you?”
“Of course not! If it weren’t for my family, I’d—”
“You’d what?What , Annabel?”
I’d marry Sebastian.
But she dare not say it aloud.
“You must think of your own happiness,” Louisa said.
Annabel let out a snort. “What do you think I’vebeen thinking about? If I hadn’t been thinking about my own happiness I’d have probably asked the earl to marryme .”
“Annabel, youcannot marry Lord Newbury.”
Annabel stared at her cousin in shock. It was the first time she had ever heard Louisa raise her voice.
“I won’t let you do it,” Louisa said urgently.
“Do you think Iwant to marry him?”
“Then don’t.”
Annabel clenched her teeth together in frustration. Not at Louisa. Just at life. “I don’t have your choices,” she finally said, trying to keep her voice even and calm. “I am not the daughter of the Duke of Fenniwick, and I don’t have a dowry large enough to purchase a small kingdom in the Alps, and I wasn’t raised in a castle, and—”
She stopped. The stricken look on Louisa’s face was enough. “I didn’t mean it that way,” she mumbled.
Louisa was silent for a moment before saying, “I know. But do you know, I don’t haveyour choices, either. Men have never fought over me at White’s. No one has ever flirted with me at the opera, and I certainly have never been compared to a fertility goddess.”
Annabel let out a little groan. “You heard that, too, eh?”
Louisa nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Annabel shook her head. “It’s funny, I suppose.”
“No, it’s not,” Louisa said, but she looked as if she was trying not to smile. She stole a glance at Annabel, saw that she was also trying not to smile, and gave up. “Yes, it is.”
And they laughed.
“Oh, Louisa,” Annabel said, once her laughter had melted into a wistful smile, “I do love you.”
Louisa reached over and patted her hand. “I love you, too, cousin.” Then she pushed back her chair and stood. “It’s time to go down.”
Annabel stood and followed her to the door.
Louisa walked out into the hall. “Lady Challis says there are to be charades after supper.”
“Charades,” Annabel repeated. Somehow that seemed ridiculously appropriate.
Lady Challis had instructed her guests to gather in the drawing room before supper. Annabel had waited until the last possible minute to head downstairs. Lord Newbury was not stupid; she had been avoiding