“I believe,” Georgie said, tilting her head, “he has known a little longer than you have.”
Hetty gave a short, uncertain laugh. “Well. That would be like him… always two steps ahead. Except in chess… or fencing. Actually, he is often two steps behind.”
“You never did let him win.”
“Of course not. He becomes insufferable when he wins.”
“And yet,” Georgie mused, tucking her feet beneath her dressing gown, “I wonder if you do not like him best when he is precisely that… his most vexing, teasing, impossible self.”
“I most certainly do not.”
Georgie offered her a look of wide-eyed innocence, a look which often earned her extra biscuits as children, and Hetty a scolding from Nurse.
“Oh very well,” Hetty muttered, flinging herself back against the pillows. “If you must know… I find myself most fond of him when he smiles at moments most improper. When he utters some scandalously witty remark under his breath, solely to provoke my laughter. When he regards me as though I have spoken some clever truth and, against all reason, appears genuinely proud of me. Though Heaven alone can say why.”
“Mm,” Georgie said, with all the smug satisfaction of a sibling proven right. “Yes. That does sound terribly indifferent of you. You must loathe him entirely.”
With a groan, Hetty lobbed a cushion at her head.
Georgie caught it with a squeak and flopped backwards onto the bed, her curls spilling across the coverlet. “Well, if you insist upon flinging pillows, I’ve no choice but to remain. You have had a trying day, and I refuse to let you pine in solitude. Besides, my chamber is draughty, and I find this room vastly preferable. I shall claim it as my own once you marry Theo and depart.”
“You shall do no such thing,” Hetty said, even as Georgie wriggled under the counterpane with great determination.
“It is decided,” Georgie announced, pulling the bedclothes to her chin. “I shall remain here for the night in my future chamber.”
Hetty sighed, extinguished the candle and lay back with exaggerated resignation. There was a quiet moment, the kind found only in darkened rooms between sisters with no one else listening.
“Hetty?” Georgie whispered.
“Yes?”
“I meant it. I believe he has loved you for years.”
Hetty stared up at the ceiling. “I do not believe so.”
“I do,” Georgie murmured. “Even if he did not know it himself. Even if he still does not. Some people are terribly slow with their own hearts.”
“You are far too romantic.”
“Perhaps,” Georgie allowed, and Hetty could hear the smile in her voice. “But I am rarely mistaken.” There was a pause, before Georgie sighed and asked in the most innocent voice imaginable, “Was it wonderful?”
Hetty lifted her head. “Was what wonderful?”
“Kissing him, of course.”
“Georgiana Tolliver!”
“Well,” Georgie whispered, muffling a giggle. “I am to make my debut next Season. One ought to be informed.”
Hetty groaned, flopping onto her back. “It was… perfectly adequate.”
Georgie elbowed her. “I do not believe you.”
Hetty smiled into the dark. “Very well. It was… rather lovely.”
“Ha!”
“But do not be absurd,” Hetty added primly. “It is not as though I enjoyed it.”
