I walked over to her and put my hands on both sides of her head, stopping it from shaking. “You can.”
“If it is so very easy, then why don’t you do it?” She scowled in vexation. “Why do you not tell Mr. Wortham how you care for him?”
My cheeks tingled with heat. “Because I don’t.”
“I thought you had stopped with the lying. It is quite obvious.”
“You said that before,” I snapped.
“It has not changed.”
I pulled my hands away from her and crossed my arms. “We are not talking about me. We are talking aboutyou.”
“You just want me to marry him to save us from ruin.”
“I want you to be happy.” I looked her straight in the eyes to make sure she understood. “If the words are too difficult to say, then write him a letter.”
She seemed to contemplate the idea. “It could cost me my position as Sophia’s governess. We need the money.”
“It won’t cost you anything. He adores you. I know he will respond exactly as we hope.”
She gave me a skeptical look. “You cannot possibly know that.”
“James will help him come to his senses.” As vexing and confusing as that man could be, I did trust him. Perhaps too much.
Fine.” Clara took a deep, unsteady breath. “But you must help me write the letter. You will know the best way to say it.”
I gave a hard laugh. “What? How would I know? I am not a romantic like you.”
She crossed the room to the writing desk, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “I’m beginning to doubt that.”
We waited until it was dark and Miss Bentford had retired for the evening to deliver the letter. Clara and I had spent nearly an hour trying to decide what to write, discarding and rewriting and shrieking. Clara displayed all her emotions loudly, even her nerves. I laughed at her distraught state, even though I shouldn’t have. But the situation was far more exciting than I could have anticipated.
After several attempts, Clara was satisfied with the words she had written, and we sealed the letter.
“We cannot turn back now.” I swiped the note from the table. “I will carry it, but you will slip it through the front door.”
“I will not!” Clara cringed at the high, nervous tone of her voice. “I cannot.”
I laughed, striding toward the door. “Very well, but you must accompany me at least. If I was ever caught then he might assume the letter was from me.”
She followed closely on my heels as we ventured out into the cold. “What will I say when I arrive tomorrow for work? I will see him. There is no way to avoid it. How will I know if he read the letter? How will I know if his feelings are the same? How will I bear the awkwardness of the entire situation?” She was breathing fast.
“Calm yourself!” I said through a laugh. “He will be overjoyed.”
A dull breeze carried flecks of snow through the air, invisible in the darkness. The moon offered just enough light, and we walked as quickly as we could. When we reached Lord Trowbridge’s door, I handed Clara the note, and she took it, to my surprise. Her hand shook and her throat bobbed witha labored swallow. In one fast motion, she pushed the letter through the crack between the double doors, turned on her heels, and ran.
We took a sharp turn, ensuring we were out of sight as quickly as possible. “I cannot believe I just did that!” Clara made a sound, a mixture of a cry, a laugh, and a squeal.
“Nor can I,” I said, smiling. “He will love you forever, if only for your daring spirit.”
We slowed to a walk, catching our breath. Clara looped her arm through mine. “If this does not work as you planned, I will cut your hair in your sleep.”
I gasped, rocking against her so she stumbled. “If you do that, I will write another letter to Lord Trowbridge telling him how large his nose is and I will sign it with your name.”
“He does not have a large nose!”
It was my turn to laugh as we walked up the steps of our cottage and went inside. I hurried to light new candles in the dark and warmed my hands carefully above the flame. I turned to face Clara. “I suspect you will be quite incapable of sleep tonight.”
