“No, I don’t,” Dahlia agreed.
Danielle couldn’t help but think her sister was about to say more, and when she didn’t, Danielle considered her own jealousy at the thought of Andrew kissing her sister. “If you don’t marry him—”
“I won’t.”
“—and you see him with another young lady—one of our friends, or... or someone fresh from the schoolroom—what then? Will you feel jealousy? Will you be angry with yourself for not having accepted his offer when you had the chance?” she asked in concern. “Dahlia, I shouldn’t want you to have regrets.”
Dahlia merely shrugged.
“What if... what if while we’ve changed places, Andrew proposes toyou? What then?”
A wan grin settled over Dahlia’s features. “Should I say yes?”
Frowning, Danielle shook her head. “You just want him to kiss you,” she accused.
“I do not.”
“Then why change places at all?”
Dahlia shrugged again. “I suppose I’d like to know if we could get away with it. At our ages.” They had managed on several occasions to change places—without even trying—which made for confusion during dinner conversations. When it happened like that, it was merely a source of amusement.
“Theydidn’t get away with it,” Danielle reminded her, referring to the Comber twins, a hint of warning in her voice.
“They weren’t dressed alike.”
“How do you know that?”
“Are they ever?” Dahlia countered. “Anthony wears decorative waistcoats whilst Andrew’s are always far simpler. More sedate. Boring.”
“I think I could tell them apart, even if they wore the same waistcoat,” Danielle claimed.
“How?”
“Anthony always walks about as if he’s already an earl. More... upright. Taller,” Danielle claimed. She sighed when she recalled how Andrew had looked at her the day before. He adored her, even if he only did so as a best friend. Anthony didn’t gaze at her like that, with longing in his eyes. “How does Anthony look at you?” she asked in a quiet voice.
Dahlia furrowed a brow and moved into the room. She lifted a hip and settled on the edge of the bed as she considered the query. “What do you mean?”
“Does he gaze at you as if he wants to kiss you?”
Her expression not changing, Dahlia considered the question for a long time. “He did yesterday,” she admitted. “At least, I think he did.”
“You would deprive yourself of the opportunity tobekissedby him today?”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. “What makes you think he’ll kiss me today?” The reminder of a kiss had her remembering how it had felt to have Anthony’s lips pressed against hers. At how the solidity of his body had felt as he pulled her close, his arm at her back like steel, the scent of him so fresh and citrusy. She’d been too shocked and angered to consider if she might like it to happen again.
“He proposed marriage,” Danielle reasoned. “You may think he rode away with his tale betwixt his legs yesterday, but he’s had a night to consider his next move. To consider Father’s words,” she added, daring a glance at Peterman. The lady’s maid was obviously listening to their conversation, for the curling iron was nearly glowing red in the flames. “Peterman!” she scolded.
The lady’s maid jumped and pulled the iron from the fire, her eyes wide in horror. “I’m so sorry, milady.”
“You’re not coming anywhere near me with that until it’s cooled down some,” Danielle warned.
“Yes, milady.”
Danielle turned her attention back to Dahlia. “Let’s wear the peach colored gowns,” she suggested. “And you’ll need to have your lady’s maid do your hair to match mine.”
Dahlia’s eyes widened. “I will,” she agreed, a grin lifting the corners of her lips. “You won’t regret this,” she said as she hurried to the door.
Danielle turned around in her chair and glanced at her sister’s retreating back in the mirror. “I’d better not,” she replied.
