Page 2 of To Steal a Kiss

“Excellent,” Matilda said, beaming at her. There was a look in her friend’s eyes she couldn’t quite like. A glint of determination. “And you’re ready to complete your dare?”

Alice swallowed hard. She felt ready to run away and hide, but she kept that to herself for fear Matilda would think her a wet blanket. She was a wet blanket. If she were totally honest, wet blankets had a deal more weight to their characters.

“Well?”

Do it. Do it. Do it, a little voice in her head repeated, the words in time to the desperate thudding of her heart.

Matilda had offered to help her with her dare weeks ago, but Alice had been too afraid to agree. The idea that Matilda would arrange for a man to kiss her… a complete stranger….

Alice shivered with apprehension.

It was not that she didn’t trust Matilda, she did. She knew the beautiful young woman had a good and kind heart and would never set her up with an unpleasant fellow, or someone who would compromise her or take advantage, but… but Matilda was ruined.

She was wealthy and beautiful and from a distinguished family, but her father’s fall from grace, her brother’s notoriety, and her own reputation rendered her unmarriageable to any decent gentleman. The family had fallen on hard times due to their father’s excesses, and her brother had established a notorious gambling club to recover their fortune. Recover it he had, too, in grand style. It was not a respectable occupation for a gentleman, however, and then… there was the matter of Matilda being caught alone with a man.

It had happened through no fault of her own, it was true, but still, was she really the person Alice ought to trust with this particular dare?

“Kitty has only given you this final full moon to complete your dare, Alice,” Matilda warned. “You’ve already had two months. You were only supposed to have two weeks.”

“I know, I know!” Alice wailed, wringing her hands together. “I wish….”

I wish I’d never taken the stupid dare.

No.

For heaven’s sake, Alice, grow a backbone.

Do something.

Anything.

For if she didn’t, she might as well resign herself to being Mrs Edgar Bindley.

Alice shuddered.

“Yes!” She squeaked more than spoke the word, forcing it out before good sense could remind her of all the reasons this was a ridiculous, terrible, and dangerous idea. Yet, Prue had been brave, and she’d gained everything she ever dreamed of. Surely Alice could do the same?

Matilda beamed at her and shuffled along the carriage bench to take Alice’s hand.

“Wonderful. Well done you, Alice. Now, are you going to the Ransoms’ ball?”

Alice nodded. She felt light-headed; her skin clammy. Perhaps she was going down with something. Something that would consign her to her bed until after the full moon, with a bit of luck. Then she’d be out of time, and unable to complete her dare through no fault of her own. No shame in that.

Nonetheless, shame overwhelmed her. Alice was no fool. She knew kissing a stranger in the moonlight would not change her fortune. Yet it had become somehow symbolic. If Alice could do this one reckless, daring thing, surely there was more to her? A painfully shy wallflower would never do such a dreadful thing, so if she did it… she’d no longer be a painfully shy wallflower. Would she?

It made sense to her, at any rate.

“That’s the perfect time, then,” Matilda said, giving Alice’s hand a squeeze. “A full moon, and the Ransoms’ place is vast, full of balconies and romantic gardens. Now, don’t you worry about it. I shall arrange everything.”

Alice felt her stomach twist and wanted to laugh or possibly sob at the idea she could stop herself worrying. She’d be able to think of nothing else between now and then. She’d make herself ill with it, not get a wink of sleep, and be red-eyed and blotchy by the night of the ball. A delightful prospect for any young man. She swallowed a groan of misery and, as Matilda let go of her hand, she pressed it to her stomach, which was threatening retribution.

“W-Who?”

She couldn’t ask more than that, too afraid she’d cry or vomit or do something equally repulsive if she tried to speak further.

Matilda gave her a reassuring smile and reached out a hand to tug at one of Alice’s red curls. “Someone I trust, darling. Someone who will be sweet and kind and respectful. You have my word.”

Alice nodded. She couldn’t have done anything more if she tried, and she was too concerned with keeping the contents of her stomach in place to make the attempt.