Molly departed and Blythe began to unhook the back of Audrey’s gown.
“Men were not looking at me, Blythe, at least not in the way you meant,” Audrey insisted. “Why did you mislead Molly?”
“Of course they were looking at you. And why should they not? You are beautiful, Audrey. People will stare at first because of your blindness, and yes, that happened tonight. When I was young?—”
“And you are so very old now,” Audrey teased.
“Shh, let me finish! I am trying to apologize or to explain or … I don’t know.”
Audrey heard the sorrow, and turned about, even though her gown was only just starting to part at the top. “Blythe, this isn’t necessary. I know you’re sorry. We all make stupid mistakes in our youth. And I made several of them, so I certainly understand.”
“Just let me say this,” Blythe whispered, then cleared her throat. “I don’t know why I used to behave this way—it seems so ridiculous and childish now—but I used to be so sad and defensive when people stared at you.”
“Youwerea child,” Audrey said with kindness. “I don’t hold that against you.”
“Even Father told me to ignore everyone. And then … and then he made certain we’d never have to see how people looked at you. We denied you any friendships, Audrey, a social life.”
“Oh, Blythe, don’t cry,” Audrey said, putting her arms around her sister. “That was Father’s influence. I know that. And perhaps he thought he was trying to protect me.”
“You mean rather than trying to avoid his own feelings of embarrassment?” Blythe said bitterly.
“I know he felt that way, too.”
“I wish that things had been different,” Blythe whispered raggedly, “that I’d been more mature. We lost so much time together.”
Audrey’s eyes stung and her smile wobbled. “But we have all the time in the world now. We’ll be able to visit each other’s homes and spend lots of time together.”
“That’s good.”
They hugged again, then with tired fingers, fumbled through unhooking each other’s gowns.
“Good night, Audrey,” Blythe said, then added, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Audrey said, and when she heard the door shut, she felt the drip of happy tears she could no longer suppress.
When Audrey came downstairsthe next morning, Robert was waiting in the drawing room. He rose as he saw her descend the last stair and called her name.
Her head angled toward the room and she approached, her expression one of disapproval that he didn’t quite believe. Her cheeks were pink, and he knew his attentions reached her, though she didn’t want them to.
“So you didn’t go home,” she said impassively.
“Did you think I would?”
“No.” She gave a reluctant smile.
“What are we doing today? Your feast is approaching. Have the invitations gone out? I didn’t receive one.”
She shook her head, looking amused and exasperated all at the same time. “Molly isn’t finished with them yet. I am still insisting she resume her duties at a slow pace.”
“But will I be invited?”
She hesitated a long time, but he wasn’t worried.
“You’d come anyway, wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“I would.”
“Then you’ll receive an invitation.”
