Elise didn’t care about rumors. She also had no desire to leave the house. Her focus was on Kit.
One afternoon Tweedie joined Elise as she sat by the window overlooking the street, Tamsyn by her side. “He’s more than just an acquaintance, isn’t he, lamb?” she asked Elise, using a pet name from years ago.
“I don’t understand,” Elise answered, not taking her gaze off the paved road.
Her great-aunt had a piece of hard cheese for Tamsyn. Tweedie often snuck treats to the dog, who was becoming a great favorite of everyone in the family, including Herald.
“Elise, one of the hard lessons of life is that sometimes things aren’t meant to be. Your struggles with that truth have been one of your downfalls.”
She looked to her aunt. “He isn’t just anyone, Tweedie,” she admitted. “And if it is in his power, he will come.”
Tweedie sat a moment, and then she said, “Do you remember the story of the three Fates?”
“The Greek or Roman?” Elise asked.
Tweedie waved a hand. “You are too clever, girl. However, you know that they weave thethread of one’s life. I’ve had three husbands. Three men who had loved me well.” She smiled. “Three Fates.”
She had Elise’s attention now.
“What I learned, what the Fates taught me, is that if it is meant to be, it will happen. Your sitting and waiting will not bring him to you any quicker. But I would like to meet this man who has so captured your imagination.”
“He is remarkable.”
“As I would expect. However, you must trust that the golden thread the Fates weave has encircled both of you. He’ll either find you or not.”
“It is the ‘not’ I fear.”
“You have no power over the ‘not,’ Elise.” Tweedie stood, bent, and kissed the top of her head as if in benediction, and without another word left Elise to her watch.
***
“You must go to the Woolfolk ball,” Dara insisted.
“And why is that?” Elise challenged her.
They stood in what Dara called the Garden Room because it overlooked the back of the house. It was where Dara liked to do her sewing. The sisters still made their own gowns. Even though Michael was relatively well-to-do, he wassupporting a household of four women. Every economy was appreciated.
Besides, the sisters liked designing their own dresses. It made them feel useful. To this end, several measures of fabrics had been spread out over the furniture because Dara believed Elise should have a new dress.
Elise was just as certain that a new gown was not necessary because she had no intention of attending the Woolfolk ball.
“Everyone will be there. You can’t miss it,” Dara responded.
“This is the last ball before everyone goes off to wherever they go,” Gwendolyn added. “We need you.Ineed you. I’m tired of seeing those other debutantes gloat over the demise of the Lanscarr sisters.”
“They don’t,” Elise countered.
“They do,” Dara assured her. “You can’t imagine how petty they are. They say we set out to marry dukes and, well, we have missed our mark. Of course, I’ll take an MP over a duke any day.” Dara shook out a light blue diaphanous muslin. “Touch this. Isn’t it soft? And the weight is perfect. The skirt will move in time with the music.”
Elise did touch the material. The color was lovely and it was as finely woven and soft as she’d ever seen.
“The gossip is that the Duke of Winderton will be at the Woolfolk ball,” Gwendolyn said.
“Who is the Duke of Winderton?” Elise asked.
“He’s the one everyone claimed we should meet. Remember when we first arrived? They called him the ‘young’ duke,” Gwendolyn answered.
Elise laughed. “I didn’t know such a creature existed.”
