My face burned. I could feel Alexander’s gaze, but I didn’t dare look away from the pages of my book. I was not in the mood for acting that night. I didn’t trust myself to play my role correctly. My mind was in a thousand different places.
My heart was in a thousand others.
I felt horrible for the words I had spoken to Alexander earlier that day, and for the contention between us. I wanted to erase all of it and go back to being his friend, but I didn’t know how. There had been a shift in our relationship, and I was fairly certain it was irreversible. I was overly aware of every movement he made on the settee beside me.
As the minutes rolled on, Octavia played several songs on the pianoforte, Mr. Lymington read several pages of poetry, and I stared at the clock. It was nearly ten. There had been no obvious ‘key’ revealed that morning, so I could only assume that it would be revealed that evening instead.
On the tenth chime of the clock, Lady Tottenham stood from her chair, calling the room to attention. “The time has come to reveal the answers from our game this morning. Lady Daventry, Mrs. Pike, and I each told two stories, and you were charged with the task of deciding which one was true and which was false. If any of us are caught in our lies, then we must pay a forfeit.”
My stomach lurched.
She gave a smug smile. “I regret to inform you that your guess regarding my story was incorrect. I did indeed fall in love with Lord Tottenham after he redeemed himself by gifting me a pet rabbit.”
“Drat,” I muttered. “I was certain she wasn’t fond of animals.”
“As was I,” Alexander said. “Can you envision her with a pet rabbit?”
“No.” I glanced at his face with a smile before remembering how he must have hated me. He smiled back, and my heart gave a distinct leap. I looked away, embarrassed for no apparent reason. My head was light, my hands perspiring. I would have to reveal my story next.
Lady Tottenham grinned at the dismayed whispers of her guests. She must have known all along we would guess incorrectly. “The rabbit,” she said in a slow voice, “as silly as it was, became the key to unlocking my heart.”
I sat up straighter.
The key to her heart…was her pet rabbit? Was that the clue?
I scowled at Lady Tottenham’s face as I tried to piece together the riddles in my mind. According to the clue given to the Colborne sisters, the key would be revealed at ten o’ clock. Lady Tottenham could not have explained it in clearer terms.
Had I just pirated their clue?
I glanced at Octavia, who sat beside Mrs. Pike on the other side of the room. She wore an eager smile. She wasn’t a fool. She had heard it just as clearly as I had.
My mind raced. What did it mean? According to my riddle, the key would be found ‘underfoot of the game,’ and only after I had found the letters that spelled out what I had assumed was Lord Tottenham’s christian name, Walter. The two riddles didn’t align. Something still seemed to be missing.
“Lady Daventry?”
I blinked, my vision coming into focus. Lady Tottenham stared at me expectantly.
“Y-yes?” I stammered.
“It is your turn.” She motioned me forward.
I stood, my legs shaking beneath me as I crossed the room to stand beside her. I steeled myself against the dread in my stomach. “Of my two stories, the second was true,” I announced. “You all guessed correctly.”
Mrs. Pike applauded for herself, and the others soon followed. I glanced at Lady Tottenham for direction. She stepped forward, a consoling smile on her face. “Unfortunately you were caught in your lie, my dear. That means you must pay a forfeit.”
I cringed inwardly at the word, a fresh surge of fear accompanying it. I could eat a hundred crickets before I would kiss Lord Kirkham again—or anyone else for that matter. My heart hammered. Lady Tottenham did love crickets, but she loved forcing her guests to kiss even more.
Lady Tottenham tapped her chin dramatically. “I should like to change the way forfeits are paid. Rather than drawing one out of a hat, I have written the names of all the guests and placed them in this bowl.” She turned toward the mantel and took the bowl in her hands. “The person whose name you draw will decide your fate. He or she will choose what your forfeit must be.”
I gulped, but gave a nod. I reached into the bowl, taking the first slip of foolscap I touched. As long as I didn’t choose Lord Kirkham, Mr. Barnwall, or Mr. St. Vincent, the required forfeit was likely to be something safe and minimally embarrassing. I would be happy to embarrass myself with a dance or song or silly poem. A few days before, Octavia had been forced to perform a mime, pretending she was a dog for five minutes. I could manage something humiliating like that.
Lady Tottenham snatched the slip from my hand before I could unfold it. She read the name I had chosen in a loud voice. “Miss Victoria Colborne.”
At first I was relieved, but then I remembered our conversation from earlier that evening. My heart raced as Victoria’s lips curled into a sly smile. She cast me a knowing look. I tried to protest with my eyes, but it didn’t work.
She stood, joining Lady Tottenham and me by the fireplace. “Lady Daventry has paid me a kindness this evening, and I should like to repay her with a forfeit that she is sure to happily perform.” Her blonde curls bounced as she turned toward me with that lingering mischief in her smile. “Lady Daventry, I require you to kiss Mr. Holland.”
My lungs refused to expand. My chest was tight, and my head swam.
