They shared a little laugh and then Estella linked arms with the young lady and led her through the crowd.
Estella noticed her new friend growing more nervous as they went. "I promise he won’t bite."
This startled a laugh out of Clarissa, and Estella continued. "He’s a dear friend to me and my family, and you have my word, he’s a true gentleman."
"I'm so glad he has friends here," Clarissa said. "His mother has been worried about him." A pause, and her tone grew tentative. "I confess I'm rather nervous to meet him. I’ve never even seen him, and… Well, it's all been arranged through our mothers."
Estella's step didn't falter, but her stomach lurched. "Arranged?"
"Oh—" Clarissa colored, a flush rising from her neck to her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't presume it's common knowledge. It's only that our families have formed an understanding." She said the next words carefully. "About an engagement."
The party continued around them, and not one guest seemed to notice that the floor beneath Estella's feet had just opened into a chasm.
I think about you. Every minute of every day.
No. She must have misheard.
"An engagement," Estella repeated. Her voice sounded strange. Distant. As though someone else were speaking from very far away.
"I know it’s rather unusual, getting engaged to a man one has never met. But his mother assured me that Lord Blackwood. Or rather, Sebastian— That is, my mother seemed certain?—"
Sebastian.
Clarissa kept talking. Her way of speaking was awkward to begin with, full of half starts and incomplete thoughts. But Estella couldn’t have made sense of her words even if she’d been truly eloquent.
Estella had stopped hearing much of anything after “Sebastian.”
She’d called him Sebastian. Because of course she did. Because…she was to be his wife.
"And I likely shouldn’t have come here tonight. But you see, I must speak to him— I’d rather not, truth be told. I wish there was some other way, but…"
The words tumbled over and over, but in her mind it was Sebastian’s voice that Estella heard.
Mutually beneficial. The words from the terrace came rushing back. I have an understanding with another woman.
He'd told her. Sebastian had told her at the very beginning. He'd been honest on the terrace, brutally honest, and she hadn't believed him because she hadn't wanted to believe him. Because the duchess had said trust your eyes, and Thea had said the result speaks for itself, and her own treacherous heart had said he loves you, he must love you, because you love him, and?—
And she'd been wrong.
About everything. She'd built a fairytale castle out of wishes and dreams.
He'd told her the truth from the start. His interest in her was born out of guilt and obligation. And she'd constructed an elaborate alternative theory because the truth was too painful to bear.
Clarissa was still talking but the words reached Estella through a fog.
"Are you all right, Miss Hale?" Clarissa touched her arm. "You've gone quite pale."
"I'm fine." The lie came out smoothly. The mask of competence she'd been wearing since she was seventeen slid into place with practiced ease. "Forgive me, it's rather warm in here."
"It is, isn't it?" Clarissa looked relieved to have a simple explanation.
Estella's mind was spinning, but her body knew what to do. It had been trained for this. She smiled at Clarissa and said something pleasant about welcoming her to London. She even offered to make introductions.
"That's so generous of you." Clarissa's eyes shone. "Truly, Miss Hale."
"There he is.” She found herself pointing to Lord Blackwood, her tone oddly exuberant. His back was to them, and that was for the best. “He’s just there,” she added. “The tallest of the three men.”
Clarissa nodded but made no move to keep walking. Was Estella expected to walk her over and make the introduction herself? A wave of hysterical laughter threatened. But this was not amusing. Not even a little.
