What could she say to that? Fisher had been a specter haunting Selena for years now, a whimsical what-if. If he’d followed his heart instead of his friend’s advice, Selena would likely be blissfully wed instead of undeniably a spinster. Beatrice was glad to see the fantasy of a lost future no longer held sway over her cousin, but it left her on new ground, uneven and icy. Beatrice could not figure out where to step next to avoid a fall.
“If you do not attend,” Selena said, “do not do so for my sake. I will go with or without you. But I do understand”—she reached across the space between them and placed her hand over Beatrice’s—“if the prospect of once more facing Mr. Clark has startled you. I hear he is still a bachelor.”
“And will die a bachelor because no intelligent woman will have him.” The coward.Que bruto.“What a brute,” she mumbled, opening the letter and reading.
Dear Stubborn Bea,
Bring your translations. I must have you. And you, it seems, must have your curiosity sated. You wish to know how Richard is? Do not think I did not see your crossed out use of his given name. No scratches could hide it! And I will give you what you most need. Richard is still charming and still handsome and terribly good with his niece and nephews. They adore him. As does everyone who meets him. But for you, as you say. I’ve always wondered why that is.
That is neither here nor there, I suppose. What matters is that I see you in April for my wedding. If you do not agree, John will likely kidnap you to ensure you attend for my sake. He is adamant that my every desire is met.
Mr. Fisher will be in attendance, and Selena is well aware of the fact. It does not bother her. She is eager to speak with him, so she says. No less eager than you are toarguespeak with Richard.
I look forward to your acceptance letter, dear Bea.
And if I am not appeased, you should look forward to seeing John. And the inside of a careening coach bringing you to me,
your newly spoiled friend,
Evelina Soon-to-Be Marchioness of Prescott
Beatrice refolded the letter. “Evelina has that marquess tightly wound round her finger, it seems.”
“She always has. Only now she knows it.” Selena straightened her gloves. “Please say you’ll come. Please say you’ll not let Richard Clark scare you away. I know he’s intimidating, but?—”
“Me?” Beatrice shot to her feet. “Intimidated by Richard Clark? Ha!”
Selena mastered a smile, pressing her lips into a tight line. She could not keep the mirth from her eyes, however.
“Do not look at me like that, Lena. It’s true. And I will not run from him now. If you are intent on going?—”
“I am!”
“And if Evelina wants me there badly enough to turn her husband into a kidnapper, well, then, I will attend. Mr. Richard Clark be damned.”
* * *
Selena retired to her room a half hour later. They’d begun and halfway completed their travel plans for April, and she was exhausted. Beatrice had a habit of exhausting everyone around her. They simply melted beneath her enthusiasm and vivacity.
But not Mr. Richard Clark. He’d kept up with her, intellectually, physically. As cunning and sharp as Beatrice, her match in every way. Including stubbornness.
And loyalty. Selena had much to thank the man for. The least she could do was give him a chance. With Beatrice.
She sat at her small writing desk near her bedchamber window and pulled open the thin center drawer, retrieved the letter there, and read it once more with a smile on her face and a plan unfurling in her heart.
Dearest Selena,
Beatrice is proving difficult. I have resorted to threats to get her to Slopevale in April, and I promise John will oblige me. If you see him shoving her in a carriage, just go about your day and let it happen.
You said you will come without her, and I thank you, but we must have her, too. I hate to think I will lose her friendship and her visits once I marry John. We must do everything in our power to soothe relations between her and Richard.
I think we must act on our old theory about those two. It is fascinating, is it not, that neither have married after all this time…
What say you to a bit of matchmaking?
Your fellow cupid,
Evelina Soon-to-Be Marchioness of Prescott
