Prudence matched her sister’s surprise, though her singular raised eyebrow was one of pure suspicion. “Do you actuallylikehim, Tessie?”
Teresa coughed, cheeks blazing as she hurried to look away from her younger sister. “I do not know him. How could I possibly like or dislike him, when he is essentially a stranger?”
She thought it best not to mention that, between the peaks and troughs of her panic and doubt, she had spent the last week acquainting her imagination with the new and improved Captain Frostheart. Her daring, chivalrous, morally ambiguous, wildly entertaining, romantic hero with the face and stature and allure of Cyrus Deverell.
“Prudence, do not encourage her,” Isolde chided, shaking her head. “We are supposed to be planning a way to get her out of this marriage, not putting her head in the clouds.”
“Look at her cheeks, Izzie!” Prudence protested, pointing at Teresa. “She isblushing!In truth, I suppose it was a stupid question, asking if you like him—you almost kissed him, after all, and won him as a husband in the process. Sneaky, really. I would applaud you vigorously if I thought you had done it on purpose.”
Isolde paused, tilting her head, peering at Teresa with a frown. “Whydidyou do it?”
“I told you,” Teresa mumbled. “It was a fleeting madness.”
She had not told her sisters about the list; it was far too mortifying to reveal. Rather, she had given them a more favorable version of events, where she seemed foolish, but not desperate. Nor had she mentioned Beatrice’s suggestion about relieving her curiosity, not wanting any of the blame to fall on her when she was not at fault.
“I had lost my way, trying to escape Mama, and I stumbled into the room he was in,” she added, her face flushing even hotter. “I could hear the music coming from the ballroom, I was… alone for the first time with a gentleman who did not turn his nose up at me, and… before I could stop myself, I was… closer to him than I should have been.”
Prudence sidled up to her sister, bending her head until her chin rested on Teresa’s shoulder, gazing at her through the mirror’s reflection. “If he had not been wearing a mask, would you still have approached him like that?”
“What do you mean?” Teresa replied, understanding a moment later. “Are you referring to his scars?”
Prudence nodded. “They make him look rather… threatening, do you not think?”
“That is rather unkind. He cannot help that he has scars,” Isolde said with a disapproving look, but the anxious chewing of her lip suggested she was in full agreement with the youngest.
Puzzled, Teresa shook her head, nearly dislodging one of the white roses in her hair. “I did not find them scary or threatening.I confess, I was… fascinated. Of course, considering he had come to propose, I did not think it appropriate to ask where he gained them, but I hope that I will get the opportunity after we are married.” She shrugged, glancing down into her lap with a little shyness. “If anything, I thought they added to his charm.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her sisters exchange a bemused glance, as if they thought their middle sister had gone completely mad. But as they both shrugged at each other, something akin to relief relaxed their expressions, bringing small, hopeful smiles to their lips.
If Teresa was not afraid of him, perhaps they had realized that they did not have to be, either.
But you do not know him. How can you be so certain you have no reason to be scared?
Dread pooled in her stomach, hardening to ice. In order to make it through the day, she had let her wayward mind take the reins, turning every hurdle and worry into something more palatable, more optimistic. If she truly stopped to think about the enormity of what she was about to do, and what it would mean for the rest of her life, she would be stuck to the seat, unable to move a muscle, incapable of taking a breath, much less making her way down the aisle.
A knock came at the door, Teresa jolting in fright.
Julianna entered, smiling from ear to ear. “The carriage is waiting, darlings. Quickly, before your brother starts shouting.”She glanced at Teresa, her smile faltering for a fleeting moment. “You look lovely, dear. Yes… very lovely indeed.”
Her grin returned, so stiff it made her look half-mad, and clapped her hands. “Now,everyone! Move yourselves!”
Prudence and Isolde weaved their arms through Teresa’s, helping her up off the chair, and as Julianna swept back out of the room, the three sisters followed silently. And though she tried to fight it, Teresa could not rid herself of the feeling that she was being marched toward something altogether less pleasant than her imagination had let her believe.
Once I see him again, all will be well.
She clung onto that fragile hope with everything she possessed, fearful that their reunion might shatter it instead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Ibet you never thought you would be the talk of society,” Anthony whispered, elbowing Cyrus in the ribs as he stood waiting for his bride to arrive.
Cyrus did not look at his friend. “Society’s opinion does not interest me at all.”
“I was at the gentlemen’s club last night, and it was all anyone could discuss,” Anthony continued, undeterred. “You would expect gossip from the ladies, but the gentlemen have been riled into a near-identical frenzy! They were all asking me for information, though, of course, I kept my lips sealed. The last thing you need is a crowd, gawping at this hasty union.”
Out of the corner of his mouth, Cyrus muttered, “If you do not cease, Anthony, I shall replace you with Silas.Ido not wish to talk about this. All I want is for it to be over with, and swiftly.”
Anthony put up his hands in mock surrender. “I shall not say another word.” He paused, immediately breaking his promise. “Goodness, on what is supposed to be the cheeriest day of your life, you are especially grumpy. Did you not sleep well? Were you too busy dreaming of your bride and your wedding night? Were you?—”
