“The theater.”
My sister looked pretty in a high-lace salmon-pink gown. I thought of Wycliff’s paint and I burst. I laughed and felt at ease doing so.
Ester frowned, seeming cross enough to hold her breath. “You hate the theater. You went once with me. You’ve never wanted to return.”
I rubbed my temples, pushing away that lingering headache. “I get uncomfortable sometimes, but Wycliff will find a way to make me comfortable. He always does.”
Ester paced from the closet to the bed and then back. “I don’t understand. You haven’t seen the barrister, not once since the garden party.”
“I wrote Mr. Marks. I sent him a note wrapped in red ribbon, telling him we should no longer correspond. I’ve heard no response.”
“Ruth, Papa vetted the barrister. We’ve learned nothing about Wycliff except that he’s in finance.”
“Haven’t you heard, Papa’s rooting for him? I think he’s betting on the Black Prince or was it blackjack? He doesn’t have to pay a dowry if I marry Wycliff.”
“Let me get Bex to dig around and find out more, then maybe you could reconsider the well-respected barrister.”
I tossed my brush onto the table. “His letters are very nice, but I’ve seen him four times in six months. He’s always working. Wycliff is like Papa, and he’s making a space for me and Chris in his world.”
I was done, done with my hair, with justifying things to a beloved sister who didn’t understand. I lifted from my stool, kissed Ester’s cheek. “You can wait downstairs and fuss at Wycliff.”
One look at her flustered olive face and I knew my sister was just beginning her argument. “I sound like a nag, Ruth.”
“You are a nag, Ester.”
The pacing began again. “I feel so strongly. He’s dangerous. I feel it in my soul.”
“You know what I feel. I feel respected and secure with Wycliff. I didn’t think I could have both.”
“How can you be so sure of him? You would risk your safety and Chris’s for a man you just met? Three weeks ago, he was a whip-swinging loon.”
“It’s a sjambok. You heard your Bexeley’s voice on stage, and you knew it to be love.”
“I was in love with his voice for years, but I grew to love the man passionately. I know the difference between infatuation and the deepest love.”
“I know, too. I had it once, Ester, and everything was perfect. Things are close to perfect with Wycliff, as close as I ever thought I could get to being loved again. That’s the worst thing, to let the bad make you forget you’re valuable.”
“Ruth, you deserve to be happy.”
“That’s something we tell others, to help us sleep. How many actually mean it?”
I spun and looked at my reflection—my brave reflection—in the mirrored glass. “I’m happy. I choose him.”
Ester came to me and draped her arms around me. “I love you.”
“I have been tested, Ester. I’ve come through as gold. I stopped believing that for so long. But I believe in me again.”
“Because of Lord Wycliff?”
“It started with him, but it’s me. Once you remember you deserve better, you won’t accept less.”
I turned Ester so that we could have both our faces in the mirror. “We Croome women deserve to be loved.”
“And you deserve a better chignon. Let me make you a beautiful braid and pin curls for your wild man.”
Wycliff was wild and wicked and wonderful. I just needed him to be lucky, luckier than Adam, and wiser, too. But he’d invited me and a devil to the theater. That didn’t seem wise at all.
…
