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Joy brightened Callie’s eyes for a moment before the frightened look returned. “But Papa—when he returns—”
“Carpe diem, Callandra Phillips,” said Cressida firmly. “Together you and Tom must tell Papa to bugger off.”
Callie started, then burst out laughing, only to stop suddenly. “Do you really mean it?”
Cressida nodded. “I want you to be happy. And Tom. With Tom, if he’s who you want. It’s what Papa would do.” She nodded at her sister’s shocked expression. “When Papa wants something, he doesn’t stop himself because someone else won’t approve. Neither you, nor I, nor even Granny can sway him.”
Callie bit her lip. “But Tom. . . What if he didn’t really mean it? There’s a reserve between us, ever since. . . Well, perhaps he was in a mood. . . ”
“Tom,” repeated Cressida. “Tom, in a mood? Tom, who feels unworthy of you, who is reserved with you because of Papa’s disapproval?” She took a deep breath, aware of the hypocrisy of what she was about to say. “If you want to know how he feels, you must talk to him. If you care for him, you owe it to yourself to see if his feelings are like yours. Otherwise, he may leave, and you’ll never know if you lost the best man you’ve ever known, all because you couldn’t screw up your courage and speak to him.”
“It’s easy for you to say,” whispered Callie. “You’ve always been bolder than I.”
Cressida inhaled deeply. Be bold, and call me Alec. “I’m trying to be brave, and bold when I need to be, and so can you.”
Her sister still looked worried, but she gave a nod and then flung her arms around Cressida. “What would I do without you?”
“You’d have to brush your own hair,” Cressida tried to tease.
“Oh, name the one thing that would make me better off.”
Cressida choked on a laugh, and then Callie joined in, and for a moment they just laughed and hugged each other until Cressida stepped back. “Tell him,” she whispered, feeling her heart lift when her sister have a tiny nod, looking nervous but determined.
But after they had got ready for bed and put out the lamp, Cressida lay awake for a long time, repeating those words in her head, about a very different man.
Screw up your courage and tell him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Callie found her before tea the next day, her eyes shining and her face flushed. “I have something to tell you.”
“What is it?” Cressida put down her pencil. “It must be very happy news.”
“It is.” Callie took both her hands, her fingers trembling. “Mr. Webb—Tom and I are getting married.”
Her mouth fell open. “He— You— So soon? But you only just knew!”
“Don’t be so surprised,” her sister cried. “You yourself told me he’s been like family for so long, you were considering marrying him!”
“Well, I never did! I knew he loved you, not me, and I wanted to make you see it, too.” Cressida felt a flicker of alarm, but Callie burst out laughing.
“You know I’m teasing you. He. . . He told me of your conversation last night. How it gave him hope. How it gave him the boldness to speak to me when he never would have dared before.” Callie’s eyes were wet. “Cressida, I am forever in your debt. Without you, I never would have had the courage to tell him I cared for him so, knowing how Papa—”
“Papa won’t dare interfere,” she interrupted. “I won’t let him.”
Her sister drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “No. I won’t. We won’t,” she said firmly. “Not anymore."
“Good.” She laughed in dazed happiness. “I’m so happy for you and Tom!”
Callie’s smile bloomed again, bright with joy. “We’re returning to Portsmouth. We both felt more at home there, and we don’t want to burden the Hayes family any longer than necessary. And we want you and Granny to come with us. I shall ask Major Hayes to tell Papa, when—if—he locates him, to find us there.”
“Oh. Of—of course.”
Callie looked at her closely, but Cressida smiled to cover her shaky reply, and her sister let it go. “I’m going to tell Granny. I do hope she’ll be happy—oh, Cressida, do you think she’ll fret?” Callie fluttered her hands nervously.
“Why on earth would she?”
Her sister flushed. “She always wanted us to marry well.”
