SECOND THOUGHTS ARE A GIRL’S PREROGATIVE
Afew minutes later, Lady Norwick’s salon, Norwick House
Tears still dripping down her cheeks, Lady Danielle Fitzwilliam rushed into her mother’s salon and sniffled. “I think I made a mistake,” she wailed.
A quill loaded with ink was held aloft above a sheet of Lady Clarinda Fitzwilliam’s favorite writing paper, the countess about to begin a letter. She regarded her daughter with a grimace before she quickly returned the pen to the ink pot. Unfortunately, a drop of ink managed to escape, gravity leading it to the middle of the sheet of stationery, where it landed with aplopand created a splash that radiated in all directions.
If only there was a punctuation mark that matched the round dot surrounded by what appeared to be fur.
A catastrophe, she thought with some amusement.
“Really, Danielle, must you be so melodramatic?” Clarinda asked in dismay. “What did you do? Turn down an offer of marriage?”
Danielle’s keening increased in volume, and a new round of tears erupted. “I don’t know... I don’t understand why... why I’m even... even crying,” she stammered between sobs. “I don’twantto marry.”
Clarinda gave a start, her eyes rounding. “Oh, dear. So you reallydidturn down some poor gentleman’s offer of marriage?”
She had barely finished the question when her other daughter, Dahlia Davida, rushed in, breathless, and seemed to suddenly swallow whatever it was she was about to say.
“Let me guess,” Clarinda said upon Dahlia’s arrival. “You’ve made a terrible mistake.” Her eyes narrowed when she noticed the mud-splattered riding habit. “Oh, dear,” she added. “What in the world happened to you?”
Dahlia huffed in an attempt to catch her breath. “Lord Breckinridge and Vindication,” she replied with a grimace. “He’s an excellent ride,” she quickly added.
Both Danielle’s and Clarinda’s eyes rounded at this pronouncement. “Oh, is he now?” her mother asked. “You’ve no doubt agreed to marry him, I should hope?”
Dahlia furrowed her dark brows. “Mother, I’m not going to marry ahorse,” she stated. Realizing what she had said and how it had been interpreted, her own eyes rounded as her face took on a decidedly reddish cast. “Nor will I marry Lord Breckinridge, especially after what he did to me in the park.” When she realized how this last comment sounded, she scoffed and displayed an even darker blush.
Danielle and Clarinda exchanged quick glances. Neither put forth a query, deciding it best to remain quiet.
“He bodily removed me from Vindication. While the horse was running at full speed,” Dahlia claimed in a hoarse whisper. She was fairly sure Hummel was somewhere nearby, and she didn’t want the servants learning of the incident.
“Oh, how romantic,” Danielle breathed as she clasped her hands together, failing to swallow a sob as she hiccuped. “Hesavedyou. From certain death, did he not?”
Dahlia’s mouth dropped open. “He did no such thing. I was having the ride of my life. Why, Vindication is an excellent runner. He would never unseat me. I wasn’t in any danger at all!”
Attempting to hide her disappointment at learning Dahlia didn’t appreciate Anthony’s derring-do, Clarinda angled her head to one side. “I know you’re upset, darling, but can’t you see it from his perspective? The woman he wants to wed, atop a horse he thinks is out of control? What would you expect him to do?”
Dahlia narrowed her eyes. “How did you know he proposed marriage?”
“Oh, I didn’t,” Clarinda countered, a self-satisfied grin touching her lips. “However, apparently every matron in thetonhas known he would eventually propose to you,” she remarked. “I have to admit, it’s a bit sooner than I would have thought, but that’s all the better for you.”
“How is that better?” Dahlia asked, scoffing.
“He could have waited until he was nearly thirty, like most of them do,” her mother replied. “After you had settled comfortably into your life of lonely spinsterhood,” she teased. She sobered. “Now, you have some room to... negotiate.”
The twin girls exchanged glances, their dark brows furrowing in question. “What are you saying?”
Clarinda motioned for them to take seats on the sofa beneath the window. Given the small size of the salon, the sofa she used when reading was the only other piece of furniture besides her escritoire and the chair in which she was seated. “I know you both claim you don’t wish to wed, but... there are certain advantages you could enjoy if you did so, and you wouldn’t necessarily have to live with your husbands. At least, not at first.”
Dahlia dared a glance at her sister, who was blushing. “Why areyoublushing?”
Danielle turned to stare at her. “I don’t know that I am,” she replied before turning her attention back to her mother. “What advantages, Mother?”
“In Dahlia’s case, a title. Viscountess Breckinridge to start with and eventually that of the Countess of Aimsley,” Clarinda replied.
“Go on,” Dahlia urged.
“Protection.”
