“Hello,” I say awkwardly, unable to tear my gaze from him. He’s dressed in a cream linen double-breasted jacket, his face as infuriatingly perfect as ever. Our last conversation rings in my ears.You’re making a fool of yourself, Ivy.
He drags a hand through his hair. “Hello,” he returns awkwardly.
“We really ought to be going.” I grab Lydia by the elbow and pull her toward the door.
At that moment Bram strides into the statue hall and slings an arm around Emmett’s shoulders. He’s got a tennis racquet in his other hand, identical to the one I now see hanging at Emmett’s side.
“Ready, brother?” Bram stills at the sight of us, then gives a bow. “Ah, the Benton sisters. Always a pleasure. Fancy doubles tennis?”
“No, thank you,” Lydia answers sharply, pulling me down the stairs.
We’re halfway across the lawn to Caledonia Cottage when she finally speaks again. “You like him.” She elbows me in the ribs.
I return the jab. “Bram? Of course I do. He’s very difficult not to like.”
“Not him,” Lydia says in a singsongy voice. “What happened to our plans to torment horrible Prince Emmett together?”
“They still stand.”
“You’re such a rotten liar.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s silly. I’ll get over it.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Silly?”
“It’s nothing.”
Lydia shakes her head. “Like I said, rotten liar.”
We reach the door of the cottage, and Lydia pulls me into an awkward hug. “I won’t pretend to know what’s going on here, but I have confidence you’ll handle whatever it is. When I said you’d make a wonderful princess, I meant it. Just... take care of yourself. You don’t need to do everything on your own.”
“I know, I know.”
We turn to see Bram running across the lawn, the tennis racket still in his hand. He approaches us, panting.
“I’m sorry for my rudeness back there.” He brushes a sun-kissed lock of hair off his forehead. “I should have asked how you were getting home, Lady Lydia. Please allow me to accompany you.”
“Oh—” Lydia looks at the ground and blushes. “That’s hardly necessary. My mother will be waiting.”
“No, I insist. I’ll accompany you both. If not for your sake, then for Ivy’s.”
A part of me warms, seeing Bram wanting to take care of the person I love most in the world. Her eyes flit to the ground. “Oh, all right, then.” He takes her hand in the crook of his arm.
“When you’re back, will you ask after Greer?” I prod Bram. “She seemed unwell earlier.”
Bram bows. “Of course.” I watch them disappear across the great lawn together.
I’m sitting in bed that night, reading a novel, and Olive is downstairs baking, when Faith Fairchild appears in my doorway. “Can we talk?”
I nod, surprised, and fold my book. She sits down on Olive’s bed, what used to be her bed, and exhales. “I’m sorry.” The words sound unnatural coming from her, like she’s not used to saying them. “Thank you for what you did this afternoon, for protecting me. You didn’t have to do that.”
It’s been a tense evening. Greer still hasn’t returned, and I’m sick with worry. The tea party this afternoon has left me feeling like a raw nerve, and Faith’s unexpected apology makes me want to cry.
“Of course I did,” I say.
“I’ve been unfair to you,” Faith says. “I’m sorry. It’s just... I’m so angry all the time about everyone and everything.”
“I understand. More than you may know. I’m sorry you had to go through that today.”
