“You’re twenty,” Audrey couldn’t help pointing out.
“Oooh!” Blythe said with a groan. “You are impossible to speak with!” And she marched out, her slippers making scuffing sounds on the stairs.
Audrey sighed and was about to follow her.
“Audrey, I would like a word.”
She remained still as her father brushed past her to close the door.
“I could confine you to your room,” he said in hisI know bestvoice.
She clenched her teeth together so hard she felt a spasm in her jaw. Then she calmed herself. She had intrigued Lord Knightsbridge, she knew, and he felt obligated to do something for her. If she were confined to her room, it might make him even more determined to help.I can’t lose here,she told herself firmly. But she didn’t want to be confined, to hear other people having fun, to be unable to even sit among them.
“But confining you would cause talk during a shooting party, since Knightsbridge has already met you,” he continued, heaving a sigh. “So I must trust you to be circumspect in your dealings with him. Your sister deserves her chance to shine.”
“Father, the man is an earl,” she insisted. “He will not be interested in a blind woman, except for compassion’s sake. I am no threat to Blythe.”
“See that you remember that,” he warned her. “You didn’t before.”
She could feel him take a step toward her, and much as he’d never physically harmed her, his complete control of her wasthreatening enough. It was as if the air around her shrank, and she could smell the cologne he used to mask his body odor.
“I warned you about Blake,” he reminded her for the thousandth time.
“And you were right,” she said, trying to sound humble instead of furious. “Believe me, it is a lesson I have not forgotten.”
“Good.” He stepped away. “What do you have planned for dinner tonight, once all the young men have arrived?”
She briefly, impassively sketched out the menu for him, while her mind churned at her helplessness. He would confine his own daughter, but for talk and her usefulness to his guests. It had happened before, when she’d been cloistered alone and miserable but for Molly. Every time she thought herself immune to her family’s subtle humiliations, another rose to wound her again.
“You look tired, too,” he suddenly said. “You should rest before dinner. I don’t want Blythe to have to take over coordinating the meal. She needs to be free to converse and make our guests feel at ease.”
Audrey sighed. “I do feel tired, Father. I’ll spend a quiet hour in my room.”
But once there, she couldn’t truly rest. She let Molly help her out of her gown into a dressing gown over her chemise and petticoats, the better to lie down. Throughout, the maid chatted about the other young men who had arrived, four more of them. Molly was her own age of twenty-five, and Audrey remembered she had dark blond hair and freckles across her nose. Once Audrey had sheepishly asked if Molly still had them, and Molly had only laughed and said they’d since spread across her face. Audrey had then explained that the people she’d last seen as a seven-year-old must now look different, but she had no way to tell. Molly had told her to touch her face and feel the difference.To Audrey’s amazement, she really could “feel” the contours of Molly’s pert nose and apple cheeks and imagine what she must look like. Though grateful for Molly’s thoughtfulness, she knew she could ask no one else, especially her family, for such a personal favor. So she just had to go by what she remembered of them.
Molly’s conversation came to the forefront when the maid said, “I caught a glimpse of his lordship in the hall.”
“What does he look like?” Audrey asked with a bit too much eagerness. Now she was sounding like Blythe.
“Don’t go moving your head while I’m trying to brush your hair, Miss Audrey.”
Audrey had tried for years to have the maid call her by her Christian name, but she refused—although she did agree that “Mrs. Blake” was too formal for their relationship. And it was a true relationship, not mistress and servant. Molly was her dearest friend in the world, closer than her own sister. With no one else could Audrey be herself, ask silly questions, make mistakes. In front of her family, she had to always be at her best, for fear they’d start to treat her as an invalid again. Her mother had put a stop to that, but Audrey never felt safe now that she was gone. She kept waiting for someone to suggest there were hospitals for people like her.
“Hold on, miss, I’m looking for a pin.”
Audrey gritted her teeth until she felt Molly pluck the offending pin from her hair. “Well?”
“You’re mighty interested in the earl,” Molly pointed out. “I wonder why that is.”
Audrey couldn’t tell her the truth—not yet. Even Molly might think she risked too much, going off with a stranger. “I heard Blythe’s interested, and so I’m curious on her behalf.”
“So are you wondering if this earl will finally take your sister off your hands?”
Audrey grinned. “You know me too well, Molly. Now what does he look like, so I can decide if he meets Blythe’s standards.”
“Oh, he does,” Molly said with easy humor. “He’s an earl, and he’s young and handsome.”
“I could tell all of that just by listening to her breathless chatter.”
