“He didn’t propose yet, but we were interrupted.” Her cheeks were still flushed and her smile could not have been wider. “Do you think he will?”
“Of course he will!” I shared her smile, trying to absorb happiness from her, to somehow replace the confusion and emptiness I felt within myself.
I turned at a tap on my shoulder from behind. Mrs. Abbot stood with the top hat filled with names. “Have you chosen one yet?”
I shook my head as she held the hat closer to me. My hand was shaking. I hoped no one noticed. There were still several names inside the hat, but each was well concealed, folded in quarters. I peered at the papers, trying to guess which one would have James’s name written on it so I could be sure not to choose him. It was impossible though, so I just reached in and grabbed the first one I saw.
I crumpled it in my fist, too afraid to read it, and looked at Clara.
She plucked a paper from the top of the pile and raised an eyebrow, keeping hers concealed as well. “What name did you choose?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Shall we read them together?” Her cheeks were still flushed with joy and I felt a small pang of jealousy. I pushed it away.Clara’s worries were over with for the time. She was happy, free. I tried my best to feel the same.
My breath quickened as I fought with myself over wanting James’s name to be written on that paper, but also hoping I could never see him again. I didn’t know which option would cause me more pain, but it was all so complicated it made my head spin.
All around us, ladies were already reading their names. Clara smiled. “On the count of three. One.”
“Two.”
“Three!”
I unfolded the paper quickly. The ink had smudged on the first letter, but the rest was easy to read.
The Earl of Trowbridge
My eyes flew to Clara in shock. Her eyes lifted from her paper and she scowled at my expression.
“I have Lord Trowbridge,” I said, my voice hushed.
It was difficult to tell, but a wisp of a smile touched her lips. “You must switch names with me then. It is only fair. Please.”
I nodded, and after checking to be sure no rule-abiding woman would come snatch the papers from our grasp, I slipped my paper into Clara’s hand and she did the same with hers. A brief look of triumph settled on her face but it was peculiar, something hinting at mischief behind her eyes.
“I will meet you in the ballroom.” She slid out the door with the other young ladies. I frowned, and my gaze drooped toward the new paper I now held. It was folded again, so I opened it in one swipe.No.My heart skittered, and I covered the words again, holding the paper against me. I sneaked one more peek,hoping I had imagined it. But no, written in the softest, graceful hand of Rachel Abbot were fourteen letters.
Mr. James Wortham
Chapter Twenty-Four
“My drops of tears I’ll turn to sparks of fire.”
Icursed my sister under my breath. How could she knowingly put me in this situation? Even after all I had done to help her with Thomas? My gaze darted to the door, but she was long gone, and the trail of ladies I could see in the corridor through the open door were all laughing and smiling. My chest constricted with sudden fear, but I followed the group of ladies anyway.
We had been told to meet our partners in the ballroom where we would be given further instruction. It was warmer in there. My hands grew slick with sweat inside my gloves.
And then there he was, across the room, smiling that devilish smile, eyebrow lifting as he watched Clara find Lord Trowbridge and show him his name on the paper that used to be mine. Then James’s smile softened to one of relief as he watched them together, and my breath caught in my chest.
I feared I couldn’t do it. The slip of paper that bore his name was now crumpled into a ball in my hand. My fist was clenched so tight I felt the sting of my fingernails against my palm. Allaround me, the room was full of excitement and hearty laughter, faces drawn in shock over the good fortune—or misfortune—of their assigned partners. James was standing alone, and I made my decision, or rather, my feet made the decision for me. I was walking forward, more shy than I had ever been in my life. More afraid. More raw and vulnerable and confused.
I watched the floor until I was in front of him. “I chose your name,” I said with a weak laugh. “Is that not amusing?”
I stared at James’s boots until the blasted man lifted my face to look at his, nudging my chin up with a bent finger. There was a half-smile on his lips and a question in his eyes. “How much did you pay Mrs. Abbot to secure me as your partner?”
“Only a hundred pounds.”
“Ah. A good bargain. I’d wager you planted a few facers too as you fought the other ladies for me.”
