I threw her a puzzled look.
“I am not as enamored by Craster as the others in my family. I hope someday to leave.” She shrugged, then lifted her gaze to the dark sky, squinting against the dull glow of the sun. “But I do enjoy the holiday parties.”
A flood of excitement filled my chest. I had always loved parties. It would give me an occasion to dress nicely and feel pretty, which I had not had in a long time. I could keep my hand concealed in my stuffed glove and have a delightful time. “Must I wait an entire fortnight?” I asked with a smile.
Lucy laughed just as we reached the milliner’s shop. She pulled the door open and a bell rang above us. While Lucy spokewith the milliner, my mind wandered back to the Christmastide. I hardly noticed when Lucy showed me the outrageous hat with the bright feathers. I didn’t remember the opinion I gave, but she seemed satisfied by it.
When we returned to the cold and softly falling snow, I tried to conjure up an image of the small selection of dresses in my bedchamber and which one I would wear to the party. I decided upon my berry red gown with silver trim before I even arrived home.
Lucy was speaking, I realized too late.
“Pardon me?”
“Mr. Wortham is quite taken with you, I believe,” she said.
I choked on a breath. Where on earth had that come from? “That is absurd.” I barely managed to laugh. “He is much too handsome for my liking. But you don’t seem to mind at all, do you?”
She stopped a giggle. “Of course not! But I could never have him, not when his heart is so obviously elsewhere.” She threw me a devious look.
I shook my head. “He hates me.”
“Do men gaze adoringly at women they hate? I will admit, I used to like Mr. Wortham, but the sight of you two is so positively perfect, I fully surrender.”
“It is not possible, Lucy. You must have imagined it.”
She shook her head. “I did not.”
“Well, even if he didn’t hate me before, he certainly does now. There is no question. And I don’t find him particularly agreeable either,” I lied. “He did save me, and for that I am grateful, but there is nothing between us besides an agreement to…tolerate one another.”
She smirked and flipped one of her dark curls over her shoulder. “Very well. But we shall see if he does not sweep youoff your feet at the Christmastide. Many women have fallen ill for his charms during the romance of the holiday.”
I was sure I was already ill. It would not be difficult to fall fully in love with him, and if Lucy was right, then I needed to stay far away from the party. The excitement I had felt before faded away.
Perhaps I wouldn’t attend after all.
I would stay home and clean and cook. My berry red dress would stay in my closet, and I would keep my heart as a result. I shut out my emotions and made my decision.
“I will not be like those other women,” I said with a determined look. “I will not fall in love with Mr. Wortham.”
She tipped her head close to mine, smiling deviously. “Rachel and I have wagered on it.”
I gasped. “What? You think I will, and she thinks I won’t?”
She shrugged. “We both claim that you have already fallen for him.”
I scoffed, turning my gaze to the snowflakes on my boots. “That is not a wager. You have no one to oppose your claim.”
“You provide enough opposition in the matter for both of us.”
My eyes flashed to her face. She grinned, the tip of her nose pink from the cold.
After a few minutes, I parted ways with Lucy, eager to escape her accusations. When I walked into our cottage, a letter from Mama rested unopened on the kitchen table. My heart thudded. I had been eagerly awaiting her reply.
I tore it open, scanning the words carefully.
My dear Charlotte,
I am pleased to hear you are indeed progressing toward a match with Lord Trowbridge. I always knew my investmentsin you would bring reward to our family. Please work to improve your penmanship, as your last letter looked very much like the writing of a maid or of Clara. I expect an improvement by the time you write to me again.
