“If you think that I am wanting yourcharity,princess,” he spat, “you can think again.”
Her cheeks grew even redder. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped back, a hint of breathlessness to his words. So, she was brave, but not entirely immune to his intimidating bulk, something that was hard-won over years standing atop a hot anvil.
“Why not?” he mocked, not giving an inch. “Are you afraid to deal with someone who lacks your pretty, poisonous manners?”He made a derisive sound. “And here I thought you were telling me you were more than just a lovely doll, like one here on these shelves.”
He made a production of looking her up and down, as though she was no more than a piece of art to be admired. In fairness, he’d seen plenty of paintings less beautiful than this woman … not that he planned to admit any such thing.
Her color mounted ever higher, but she kept her defiant aspect, even as her breath began to quicken.
“Let’s go, Letitia,” she said over her shoulder to her companion, though her gaze didn’t leave Hector’s. “The atmosphere in here is too heavy; the toy is broken.”
Hector turned before she could see him flinch at the wordbroken. It was foolish that he would cringe to hear it from her, not when he’d long since considered himself immune to this brand of insult. Hadn’t he heard such things a thousand times or more?
But for some reason, coming from her, it stung again. No doubt he was just feeling the pressures of returning to London after all this time.
He kept his eyes on the toys in front of him, acting as though he had practically already forgotten her.
“Scurry off back to your fancy house and charmed life, princess,” he called. “That’s the only suitable place for ye.”
He smiled, just a little, at the affronted little huff that came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around until long after he knew she was gone.
CHAPTER 3
“Iam going to say this again,” Letitia said as they walked back to the carriage, after having hastily made their purchases, “but could youpleasetryfor onceto be careful?”
“I’m certain I don’t know what you mean,” Clio said.
“No, of course not,” Letitia said. “But if youdidknow what I meant, I might note that a woman alone and unmarried will never have the freedom that a married woman enjoys. And if you were listening to the things that I said, I might observe that some people who like to take risks could benefit from that kind of social security.”
Clio tried not to be irritated with her friend when they repeatedly traveled the path of this well-worn argument. She knew that Letitia meant well … and that part of her concern came from a clear-eyed view of her own circumstances. Letitia had been born on the wrong side of the blanket to a noblewoman who had sent her child away to avoid the consequences of bearingan illegitimate child. Letty’s own marital prospects were bleak, which had led her to turn to a profession as a governess.
“And a woman—married or not—will never have the freedom from consequences that men enjoy!” Clio protested, throwing up her hands. “At least not in England. But other parts of the world are different. We could have better lives there.”
In truth, Clio didn’t like to think about traveling alone if she ultimately couldn’t convince Letitia to join her. She didn’t want to be without a friend, without even platonic love.
Letitia sighed and looked out the window, which was more or less how this discussion always ended.
“All I need,” Clio told her friend, “is one uneventful Season in England. Then, Aaron will finally give up on this idea that I’m just waiting for a good English gentleman to sweep me off my feet, and then I can convince him to sign my dowry over to me. We are not profligate women, Letty. We could live off that money for … decades.”
“You would make a wonderfulpatroness,” Letitia said with a teasing smile. Clio felt her shoulders relax when it became clear that the two would part ways—even for only a short while—on good terms. The carriage paused near a general goods store, and Letty put her hand on the door. “Just … Clio?”
Clio had long since given her friend leave to use her Christian name, though Letitia insisted on using titles when in public.
“Yes?”
Letitia gave her alook. Clio didn’t have a big sister, but if she had, she assumed that this would be the kind of look she received.
“Keep an open mind, all right?” Letitia encouraged her. “I know you think you know what you want without question, but just … don’t hide.”
“Would you settle for me trying not to cause more trouble?”
Letitia considered this briefly. “Yes. Acceptable compromise.”
Then she leaped out of the carriage nimbly and began crossing to the store, one hand on her hat as she looked down the street.
Clio felt a flicker of envy. She knew enough of Letitia’s story to know that her relative social freedom had come at a cost, but goodness if she wasn’t sometimes terribly jealous that Letitia could move through the world without constantly being chaperoned and observed and gossiped about.
“One uneventful Season,” Clio murmured to herself as she rapped on the roof of the carriage, indicating to the driver that she was ready to continue. Just one uneventful Season and she could return to her life of relative anonymity on the Continent.
