Esme's lips trembled."I want...I want to choose," she whispered."Not to be chosen.Not to be arranged.I want to decide for myself, even if it is the wrong decision."
Genny's expression gentled."There she is," she said softly."My Esme."
Esme pressed her palms to her eyes for a moment, then dropped them.When she spoke again, her voice was steadier.
"Haverleigh," she said."A crowd, music, enough commotion to hide a little mischief."
"Excellent."Genny grinned."What shall we do?"
Esme drew a breath."First, I speak to Watford.Alone."
Genny's eyes widened."Esme?—"
"I will be kind," Esme said."But I won't allow myself to drift into an understanding simply because it's expected.He deserves a wife who is delighted by penmanship.That isn't me."
"And Redford?"Genny asked carefully.
"That," Esme said, "depends on whether he comes."
"And if he does?"
Esme thought of his laugh, his hands, the way his eyes had softened when he said he was sometimes tired.Sometimes disappointed.
"Then," she said, "I stop letting other people speak for me.For once."
Genny's smile was brilliant and a little wet."Now that is a plan I can get behind."
Esme managed a small, answering smile.
The Mutual Mischief Society, she thought, might not be dead after all.
It might simply be changing its object.
James stared at the note on his writing desk as though it were a summons from the Almighty.
From Miss GenevieveMoreland, in fact.He recognized her handwriting at once, and almost hadn't opened it.
Almost.
Lord Redford, it began,
You are, at present, being a complete ninny.
He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and read on.
Esme is being very brave and very stupid.Woodmere is being very sincere and very stupid.Watford is being exactly himself, which is a separate problem.You, however, are managing to combine all three varieties of stupidity at once, which is frankly impressive.
If you do not attend the musicale at Haverleigh, Esme will likely talk herself into being perfectly sensible forever, and then we shall all be bored to death.Including you.Possibly especially you.
If you attend and behave as though you are carved from ice, I shall spill something unspeakable on your coat to force you to change it, which will cause a scene, which will lead to gossip, which you claim you wish to avoid.
So: come.Be honest.For once.Consider this an official summons from the Mutual Mischief Society, which, despite rumors of its demise, is still very much in session.
Yours in impatience,
G.Moreland
P.S.If you hurt her on purpose, I shall teach Lady Honoria a new poem about you.
