1. Learn to swim.
What a disaster of a day. I flinched, thinking about how I’d very nearly drowned. I’d learned how fleeting, how fragile life could be, and that there was still so much life I wanted to live. I would not endanger myself again. I simply needed to plan better. I’d choose the least dangerous thing next, for my sake, and for the sake of Mr. Winston’s silence.
I mentally crossed out number one, then read down the page:
2.Run away for a day.
Admittedly not my safest option. I would revisit that one later.
3.Follow Ben on a grand adventure.
Also, potentially dangerous. But not necessarily. Ben had matured quite a lot since taking more responsibility on the estate.
4.Eat all the sweets I wantin one sitting.
Now that would be fun. I’d need to order quite a lot of sweets, though.
5.Hang my painting in a public place.
Possibly the most dangerous item on my list. Or at least the one that would pose the greatest risk to my reputation.
6.Hide treasure out in the pasture.
7.Painta self-portrait.
8.Change someone’s life.
9.Write about my childhoodmemories in my journal.
There—that was the least dangerous item of them all.
10.Witness a scandal.
I folded the page and shoved it back under my pillow, then settled on my side.I can finish this,I repeated in my mind. Today had been an accident. The worst possible scenario. I would not take such risks again.
Tomorrow, I’d start with the easiest thing on my list: recording my childhood memories.
At the very worst, I’d risk a stab from the nib of my quill pen or a finger slice from my paper.
ChapterSix
The next morning Molly helped me into an old favorite dress of mine, a soft, plain heather-blue with ruffled sleeves, and quickly fixed my hair into a chignon. I tugged on my boots, tied on my bonnet, and snatched my journal and a charcoal pencil from inside my desk drawer. Mama planned to take me out to return calls in the afternoon, so if I wanted to complete number nine, recording my childhood experiences, I needed another early start.
Certain I was the first to rise, I took the stairs with quiet steps, and I was surprised to find Ben putting on his topper in the entry.
“Ben? Where are you going so early?” I whispered. His cravat was haphazardly tied and his light-blue overcoat unbuttoned as though he’d just slipped out of bed.
“I should ask you the same. Are you unwell?” His face was still puffy from sleep, a boyish frosting of freckles cast across his nose.
“Merely taking advantage of my time.” I quirked my brow. What excuse did he have?
Ben nodded and started to turn away. “Very well. I am off to meet a friend.”
I stepped closer. “For what purpose?”
Ben hesitated, looking around the room as though to make sure we were alone. “For a bit of ... exercise.”
His reticence was strange. Out of character. “What do you mean? A walk? And with whom?”
