Mariana made her eyes innocent.
Hortense knew the ploy well enough to brace herself.
“But why ever not? They love their uncle, and they love you.”
Blast.Mariana wasgood.
“It’s simply better if they’re not involved,” Hortense said.It would be too difficult to explain later, she left unsaid.
The expression in Mariana’s eyes said she’d heard it anyway. She sat forward in her seat, her brown eyes suddenly black with intensity. “What is truly behind this marriage?”
And now the lies would begin. While Hortense didn’t relish the idea of playing a role for a beloved friend, she couldn’t see she had a choice. This was Clare’s private business, and if he hadn’t seen fit to tell his family, it certainly wasn’t her place.
And then there was her deal with Doyle. She didn’t want that slipping out. Nick and Mariana must never know. It was too shameful.
So, she calmed herself in the way she always did before uttering a necessary lie. “We fell madly in love.”
Mariana laughed, heartily, as only Mariana could, from the very depths of her belly. Hortense felt slightly envious of that laugh. She’d never been able to laugh so freely in her entire life. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true. There was a time before Papa and Maman’s deaths—a time she never allowed herself to dwell upon.
Oh, how the past had been conjured these last few days.
“You will have to do better to convince me of a mad, all-consuming passion,” said Mariana.
Hortense lifted her eyebrows and pressed her lips together. Mariana was her friend, it was true, but she didn’t have to explain this. It wasn’t her story to tell.
“If I may be so bold,” Mariana continued, undeterred, as ever, “you lack the specific madness and agitation of the wretchedly in love.”
Oh.Mariana would see that. “I…” This was uncharted territory in Hortense’s canon of lies. “I would think wretched love takes many forms.”
Mariana snorted. “Not bloody likely.” She exhaled a resigned sigh. “You may keep your secrets, but you must know this. Beneath all Jamie’s titles and general lordliness beats a true and steadfast heart. A good, thoughtful man hides inside him. You can trust it.”
“I trust nothing,” Hortense retorted, the words a reflex, one that felt less true now than it did a mere few days ago.
Mariana leaned forward and placed her hand on Hortense’s knee. “We all need someone we can believe in. Someone we can trust. That trust fills our hearts.”
Hortense swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat. She was encountering rather too many of those these days. “My heart is not constructed that way.”
“Oh, it is.” Mariana pinned Hortense in place with her unrelenting gaze. “But you must brave the wild brambles to find the center. And, my dear, it is worth it.”
Hortense knew nothing of hearts. The brambles, however, were all too familiar. “Shall I ask my landlady to send up tea?”
Mariana flicked a dismissive wrist. “Oh, we don’t have time for that.”
“We don’t?”
“Show me your wedding dress.”
Hortense opened her mouth and closed it, the command catching her quite flat on her feet. “I…um…”
Mariana nodded in confirmation. “Just as I thought.”
Dread ribboned through Hortense. “What did you think?”
“You don’t have a special dress for your wedding day.”
“I have a perfectly suitable dress for the occasion.”
“Perfectly suitable?” Mariana scoffed. “Perfectly suitablesimply won’t do for one’s wedding.”
