“Darling,” Charlene cut in, “if you think the rest of us operate on anythingbutimpulse, you haven’t been paying attention.”
That was… so true.
“She’s not wrong,” Ashley muttered. “I practically threw myself at Thomas.”
“For diabolical reasons,” Charlene muttered. “Not impulse.”
“The first time was diabolical.” Ashleysmirked. “Not the second time.”
“Yes, well, you are indeed lucky that he caught you,” Maddie said with a small smile.
Ashley nodded, then looked at her meaningfully. “And maybe Sebastian’s waiting for you to trust him enough to throw yourself again. Just once. Fully.”
“Normal gentlemen don’t wait for that.”
Maddie’s brows pulled together. “But what if he’s hesitating because he doesn’t want the same thing I do?”
“Whatdoyou want?” Sera asked.
Maddie swallowed. That was the real question, wasn’t it? And it had taken Sera to come from Transylvania and her tour of the Continent to ask it.
Come to think of it, Maddie had an answer. “I want someone who sees me. Who doesn’t think I’m simply convenient or clever or a good match on paper.” Her voice dropped. “I want someone who wantsme.The messy bits. The stubbornness. The parts that don’t fit into debutante expectations.” The kind her mother tried so hard to mold her into.
Charlene gave a little shrug. “Then it’s Sebastian. You know it is. We all do. I’d wager he sees a lot more than that.”
Maddie stared into the golden swirl of her ale. “But I’m afraid of wanting more than I should.”
“You mean you’re afraid of being disappointed,” Ashley said softly.
Maddie met her friend’s eyes. “Yes.”
“Let me tell you something about men,” Charlene said. “Most of them, especially the good ones, don’t always have the words. But when they want you, they’ll show you. Even if they don’t realize they’re doing it.”
Maddie exhaled. “So… I just need to look for the signs? While being swept off my feet?”
“No,” Sera said, laughing. “You need to decide if you’re brave enough togivea sign. Something small. A gesture, like you said.Something that tells him you’re open to more.”
Maddie tapped her fingers on the table. “What kind of gesture?”
Ashley’s eyes lit with mischief. “Do you still have that book we gave you?”
“Yes.”
“Read a passage from it to him.” Charlene grinned. “Nowthat’sromantic.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “You’re asking me to send him running for the mountains.”
“Well, he could comment on the advice.” Sera raised her tankard. “To bold gestures.”
The others echoed her, tankards clinking. Maddie clutched hers, a spark of certainty blooming beneath her ribs.
But certainty was a fragile thing, wasn’t it? A single glance, a poorly timed silence, and it could crack like porcelain beneath the weight of doubt.
Maddie looked down at the frothy swirl of her drink, her thumb running absently along the tankard’s handle. Her friends made it sound so easy—boldness, gestures, daring declarations. And she loved them for it, their fire and chaos and strange, glittering courage. But she wasn’t like them. Not quite. Not yet.
She’d spent her whole life being careful. Measured. Making sense. She was the one who carried lemon drops in her reticule in case of nausea, who always had a spare handkerchief, who remembered names and allergies and who hated gooseberry jam. She knew how to tend a fever. How to pour tea. How to keep herself from wanting too much.
But now she wanted too much.
