“No one would think you a coward,” Felicity said, soothingly. “Sometimes, one just needs a bit of time to one’s self. There’s no shame in it.”
There was a part of her that wanted that. A part that wanted nothing more than to hide away in her room and lick her wounds in privacy and comfort. The heartbroken part; the part of her thatwasa bit of a coward, at least in matters of the heart.
But she would not cower on his account. “I’m going,” she said resolutely. “I am going to go to that ball, and—and I will smile and laugh and dance and have a splendid time of it. Without him.” And more importantly, she would show all of London that shewashaving a splendid time without him.
The name they whispered tonight with vicious tongues would not be hers, by God. For once, it would not be hers.
“That’s the spirit,” Charity said, with a sly smile of approval. “We’ll have you done up to the nines this evening. Shine like the diamond you are, and let Lockhart see precisely what he’s missing.”
Yes. Yes, she would do exactly that. “What shall I wear?” she asked. She had always favored richer hues than were generally allowed to young ladies. Her dressing room was stuffed with gowns, many of which she had not yet worn—but she could not easily call to mind which Henry might already have seen.
“Green,” Mercy said. “It goes so very well with your eyes.”
Felicity wrinkled her nose. “She’s in green half the time anyway,” she said. “If she wants something unexpected, something surprising—”
“Itmustbe white,” Charity concluded, directing her response to Grace. “You have got that lovely ivory satin, which I don’t believe you’ve yet worn.”
She hadn’t. It had seemed a bit too juvenile for a woman of four and twenty, but the modiste had insisted that the fabric would flatter her, and she hadn’t had the heart to decline it. “It’s a bit…plain,” she said.
“Oh. Oh!” Mercy jumped to her feet in a sudden surge of excitement. “I have got theperfectthing. A bolt of lace netting arrived only yesterday, and it is just the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s got embroidered stars made of silver thread, and it glistens in the light. We could fashion an overlay for the skirt in no time at all, I’m certain.”
“Yes, perfect,” Charity said. “And I’ll loan you my best diamonds for the occasion. Anthony has got such exquisite taste; they have just the richest fire to them. It almost makes one forget that diamonds are such cold gems.”
“Thank you,” Anthony said from the doorway, where he stood with a paper-wrapped bundle in his arms, his brows drawn in consternation. “I think.”
“I’m not ungrateful,” Charity assured him. “They are truly beautiful. It’s just that I don’t favor diamonds, as a general rule.”
“I do,” he huffed as he crossed the floor. “Diamonds go with everything. I’ve lost count of the amount of time you’ve spentbrowsing your jewels for the exact right hue of gem to go with your gown. The diamonds have cut the time it takes you to choose in half on average. Well worth the cost.”
“What have you got there?” Mercy asked, inclining her head to indicate the bundle he carried.
“Oh. Right.” Anthony veered toward Grace, held out the bundle to her. “Just arrived for you,” he said. “No note.”
No note. But with the hush that had once again descended upon the room, Grace supposed they all knew exactly who the sender had been.
Carefully she peeled back a layer of the paper, revealing two bouquets of flowers. One a voluminous bunch of roses, thorns carefully and painstakingly removed, long-stemmed and of a vibrant, velvety crimson.
Nestled beside it was a tidy little spray of purple blossoms, their stems neatly tied with a bit of pink ribbon. A child-sized bouquet—no; acat-sizedbouquet. A posy made entirely of catmint. For Tansy. Because she had not been permitted to avail herself of his garden lately?
Grace’s eyes misted. Within her chest, a tiny chunk of her already-fragmented heart crumbled clean away.
“Oh, that absolute scoundrel,” Felicity whispered. “That is—that is just—”
“Devious,” Grace said. “Underhanded. Positively Machiavellian.”
Thoughtful? Considerate?
Tansy scented the air from her seat upon the window sill, then leapt down in a lithe, elegant motion and trotted over for a better sniff. Her claws flashed out to seize the bundle of catmint, pulling it off of Grace’s lap and onto the floor, where she proceeded to roll herself upon it in instant feline euphoria.
It was not enough to have brokenherheart. Now he was going after Tansy’s, too.
Grace lifted her gaze to Charity’s. “Make meglitter,” she said fiercely.
Chapter Twenty Two
As Grace swirled across the floor in the arms of yet another man, Henry tried to calculate in his head the odds that she might’ve saved him a dance.
Minuscule. Probably somewhat less likely than the possibility of snow falling in Hell.
