“Was it worth it?” Felicity asked.
“I told you that—”
“Yes. I know what you’ve said.” Tabetha interrupted. “That you went outside to protect him from Rachel Somerset. But that doesn’t preclude you from having had the slightest inkling that you might be the one Chaswick would be forced to marry. Are you certain there wasn’t a tiny part of you that secretly hoped that would be the case? I don’t begrudge you. I mean, you’ve obsessed over him for as long as I can remember.”
“Absolutely not.” Bethany hated that the question had her doubting herself. Of course,she had not.
She met Tabetha’s gaze. “Is that what people are saying?”
“A few.” Her sister winced with a shrug.
“I believe you, Beth, for what it’s worth.” Felicity made herself comfortable on Bethany’s bed. “Those who aren’t complete ninnies know Rachel set the trap. The thing is, most everyone also knows how long you’ve been in love with him.”
“I’m not in love with him!”
Again, they both stared at her with that look that seemed to say, “Oh, really?”
“It’s true, I’ll admit I’ve carried something of a… torch… for Chaswick, but…”
“People are mostly scandalized over the spanking business.” Felicity spoke in a soothing voice—a little too soothing. Was this meant to reassure her?
“How do you think things will go tonight? If we show up at the ball?
“Not if,when. And you won’t be going in alone.” Tabetha pointed at her. “Lord and Lady Ravensdale, Lady Sheffield, and a few others plan on providing all sorts of support. Mother will collect you at a quarter before nine. Hopefully, word of your marriage begins to spread by then.” And then she frowned. “If you could have waited a week or two, I could be there too.”
“I didn’t do this on purpose!” Oh, what was the use?
“But I want to know everything.” Tabetha threw herself onto the bed as well, waggling her eyebrows up and down. “How was your wedding night?”
Felicity was staring at the pillow near the headboard and had turned a little green. “There’s blood on your pillow.” Both she and Tabetha jumped off the bed.
“What did hedoto you?” Tabatha squealed.
“He didn’t do anything! I hit my head.” Bethany touched the spot where her hair was matted.
“But how? Why on earth?” Tabetha’s cheeks turned almost beet red. “When I marry, I’m going to insist my husband be manageable and gentle. Nothing less than an earl. Did you hear that the Duke of Culpepper is in town? Was he at the Willoughby Ball? Lucinda Cockfield says he’s newly widowed. Is he handsome?” She turned to Felicity.
“I’ve never met him but if he’s a duke, I don’t suppose it really matters.” Felicity shifted her gaze back to Bethany. “Just what exactly happened in here last night?”
Bethany would rather not relay all the details. “We didn’t... I mean, he didn’t. I’m still…The blood is from my head. I tipped over backward in a chair.”
“That figures,” Tabetha snickered. “I was hoping to hear all sorts of salacious details.” But she’d walked around Bethany and was carefully examining the wound on the back of her head.
“Have you seen a doctor?” Felicity was holding a handkerchief below her nose and looking rather pale.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Good thing. Although Mother would require you to attend the ball even if you were on your death bed.”
A-t-t-e-n-d. Six letters. At least she wouldn’t be alone. And Chase would be with her. She was fairly certain he’d told her that they needed to stop apologizing to one another. Did that mean he didn’t blame her?
“So he didn’t bed you because you hit your head?” Tabetha studied her curiously. “Does he intend to do so tonight?”
“Tabetha! That’s private!” Bethany would not be regaling her sister with salacious details. Ever.
Even if there were any to regale.
Tabetha’s shoulders drooped. “Ah, well. Anyway, that’s not why we’re here. Mother’s made an appointment for you at Madam Chantal’s. We’re here to accompany you.”
