She nodded, then squared her shoulders.
“You’d best leave now. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Shall we play snapdragon?” It was the first thing she heard upon re-entering the drawing room.
“No!” Isabella sounded horrified. “Our cousin got terribly burnt playing that game.”
Miss Caroline quickly offered an alternative. “Blind man’s buff?”
“You can play the seated version,” Isabella’s mother interjected, probably eager to protect her furniture. “Buffy...something?”
“Buffy Gruffy! Yes!” Charlotte clapped her hands in excitement. “I haven’t played in forever.”
“Please, do explain the rules to the others, Lady Isabella,” Caroline urged.
“Listen, everyone,” Isabella’s clear voice rang across the room. “We shall play a game now. Chairs will be put in a circle and we’ll all sit down. One person is to be blindfolded and spun around while the rest of us quietly trade places. When the blindfolded person stops spinning, we all sit down. The blindfolded one must approach a chair and ask the person in it three questions, which must be answered in a disguised voice and very vaguely.”
“Clearly, you cannot ask them who they are,” Caroline added in a shrill voice.
“And then you must guess who it is!” Isabella concluded.
“What happens if we guess correctly?” Elizabeth asked, while the Corporal at the same time asked, “What happens if we guess incorrectly?”
They exchanged a glance and smiled at each other.
“Usually there is a forfeit,” Lady Helena said while raising her eyebrows suggestively. “One can be made to do a silly task or answer a personal question…”
“The person who guesses correctly will get a florin from the person they identify,” Sophie’s mother interjected again, her voice calm but stern.
There would be no inappropriate forfeits under her roof.
Lizzie’s stomach was seized by an old, familiar dread. A florin! As much as she disliked wasting it on such a silly game, she at least could afford to do so. Her eyes sought out Elinor, who looked very pale.
“Perhaps we’d better play cards,” Elizabeth tried suggesting, but was met with refusal. “Alright, let’s at least agree to settle the payment tomorrow? I haven’t put any money in my reticule.”
“Of course,” Sophie’s mother agreed. “You’ll excuse me and the Viscount, we’ll be content to merely watch you young people amuse yourselves.”
The younger Slaymaker was the first person to volunteer for the blindfold, and he seemed to intentionally use his knees as battering rams against the ladies’ skirts. He eventually correctly identified Miss Caroline, whose excitement had prevented her from disguising her voice very cleverly.
Miss Caroline, then, failed to identify Amelia, who failed to identify Mister Pratt, who, very easily, identified Nicholas, whofailed to identify Mister Powell. Mister Powell stopped spinning right in front of Elizabeth and Elinor. Elizabeth’s heart was beating in her throat.
This game was, indeed, very exciting. On one hand, there was the elation of hiding, deceiving, and trying to misdirect the blindfolded person. On the other hand, there was the overwhelming physical closeness between the participants - as they traded places in the circles trying to avoid the spinning blindfolded person, bodies brushed against each other, collided with each other, a hand would catch your elbow or waist to keep you from falling…
And then there was the blindfolded person, like a hunter, reaching out with their leg to find a seated person, sometimes roughly shoving it into your skirts, sometimes gently brushing your knee with theirs… Elizabeth felt that both her eyes and cheeks were feverish.
It was also an opportunity to observe people without them being aware of your gaze. Mister Powell looked like a dangerous animal, strong and eerily still. Lizzie could have sworn she saw him sniff the air before taking a step forward and settling his foot between Elinor’s slippers. Her friend wasn’t breathing. She kept her head down, as if afraid to look up at the man, despite his blindfold. Elizabeth couldn’t fault her for that. Powell’s air was overwhelming, and the thought of all of it being focused on her made Elizabeth shiver.
“How many siblings do you have?” hedemandedin that cool, dry tone of his.
Elinor pressed her gloved hand to her mouth to muffle her words, “Three sisters and a brother.”
Elizabeth saw the exact moment on Powell’s face when he realised who he was talking to, and she felt a pang of sympathy for her friend, who was about to lose funds she didn’t have.
“What are you most afraid of?” Powell nowasked, his tone almost… warm.
Elinor swallowed. “History repeating itself,” she whispered.
Elizabeth closed her eyes at the rush of sympathy she felt. Lizzie knew that Elinor’s mother had been miserable with her gambler husband and her countless pregnancies, until she finally died after giving birth to her youngest child.
