Page 109 of A Murder at Kew Gardens

Once Chrissie and I had settled by the hearth, I asked, “Now tell me, what’s wrong?”

“There’s nothing wrong. It’s just that nothing is right.”

I gave her a teasing smile. “Well, that clears that right up.”

She let out a watery laugh.

“Talk to me, dearest.”

“I’m a fool.”

“You are no such thing.”

“I am.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “All I thought about this season was what gowns I would wear, who I would dance with, what jewelry I would choose. None of that matters.”

“Of course, it mattered. You were the belle of the ball. Gentlemen lined up to sign your dance card. And several of them expressed an interest in marrying you, including Lord Sefton.”

“He didn’t want me, Rosie. He wanted only a trophy, as if I was something to be won. Once the reality of married life set in, I would have been miserable. That’s not what I want.”

“What do you want?”

“I don't know, and that is what frightens me.” The words burst out of her. “I know what gowns to wear to a ball. How to make a gentleman laugh. How to enter a room so everyone looks at me.” Her voice dropped. “But I don't know who I am when no one is looking.”

I squeezed her hand. “Maybe you want to be seen for who you are?” I suggested.

“A frivolous young woman whose chief accomplishment is twirling about a ballroom in an expensive gown.”

It suddenly became very clear. “Ah, Lord Redmayne.”

“He wasn’t wrong.”

“He is wrong. You’re much more than that.”

“Such as?”

“An intelligent young woman with a warm, caring heart, for one. And a brave one as well. You were terrified in that carriage and still did exactly what you needed to do. You kept your head.”

“Barely.”

“Barely counts. And that’s not only my belief but Warwick’s as well.”

Tilly arrived with the tea service and sandwiches. After setting it up in the small table between Chrissie and me she said, “His Lordship is asking for you, my lady.”

Of course, he was. We had arrangements to make. “Let his manservant know I will be with him shortly.”

“Yes, my lady.” She curtsied and left.

While I served both of us the food and tea, Chrissie busied herself with her hands once more. “I wish I knew what I wanted.”

“You do not have to decide today who you intend to become.”

“I don't?”

“You are eighteen, Chrissie. You are allowed not to know.”

She was silent for a long moment.

“I think Thornburn will be good for you. It will give you time to discover who you want to be.”