"Oh, I know," Genny said."It is also Redford."
Esme kept her gaze fixed on the pattern of the carpet."He has made his position very clear."
"Has he?"Genny demanded."Because from where I stood, what he made clear was that you both care for one another so much it hurts to look at."
"He told Harrison he would never marry," Esme said, "That he will not offer for any lady of good family.That he is unsuitable.He told him so more than once, apparently.Quite directly."
Genny frowned."And Harrison told you this."
"Yes."
"And you believed him."
"He is my brother."
"He is a man," Genny pointed out."Men are stupid."
Esme almost laughed."Redford confirmed it.At Foxmere.I asked, and he answered.Very honestly.He does not intend to marry anyone.Least of all me."
Genny went very still."What, precisely, did he say?"
Esme replayed the scene: his face in the fading light, the way his shoulders had stiffened.
You are correct.I do not intend to marry.I have said as much...
"He agreed," she said dully."Said he wasn't a safe bet for anyone's happiness.We agreed to be sensible.To keep respectable distances."
"And that," Genny said, "is what you heard.I heard a man who has been telling himself the same story so long he doesn't know how to change the ending."
Esme's head snapped up."What story?"
"That he is a walking disaster," Genny said simply."That he ruins things.That he cannot be trusted with anything as fragile as affection.So he behaves badly, on purpose, and then points to the chaos and says, 'See?I was right about myself all along.'"
Esme opened her mouth, then closed it.
Images of Redford on the terrace, Redford in the water, Redford in the garden, Redford on the lawn, flashed through her memory.
"He could have fought," she said quietly."Argued, told me Harrison was wrong, that we could?—"
"What?"Genny asked sharply."Run off to Gretna?Keep a secret courtship?Esme, be fair.You told him you wanted to be sensible.That your life could not be wagered.You pushed him away, and he respected you enough to step back."
Esme flinched."You're meant to be on my side."
"I am on your side," Genny said fiercely."Which is why I am telling you the truth.If you truly prefer Watford and his drainage, if you would rather have a quiet, orderly life than risk your heart, I will stand beside you, smile at your wedding, and never say a word."
She leaned forward, eyes bright."But if you are only pretending—if you are breaking off because you are afraid—then that is not you.That is everyone else's idea of you."
The words hit with unnerving accuracy and Esme stared at her friend, throat thick."I don't know what I prefer," she said at last."I only know that everything feels...smaller, since Foxmere."
"Smaller without him," Genny said quietly.
Esme did not answer.
"Then perhaps the Mutual Mischief Society shouldn't be over.Perhaps it's time you used it on yourself."
Esme blinked."On myself?"
"You have been rearranging everyone else's lives," Genny said."But you haven't once asked what you want and then acted in favor of that.That is poor form, Esme.You'd never tolerate it in anyone else."
