Page 46 of To Dance with a Devil

“Oh, but doesn’t that go against the spirit of the thing?” Helena asked, biting her lip. “If I must do it, I think it ought to be done with flair.”

Prue shrugged. “It’s up to you, dear. Only do have a care; a dare ought to be thrilling and a little shocking, but not so much as to plunge one into hot water deep enough to drown in.”

Helena nodded, but it was clear she was no longer attending the conversation, too lost in pondering what she would do.

“My turn,” Minerva said, as Harriet moved closer and offered her the hat.

Matilda kept her mouth shut and just continued to watch the proceedings. With luck, two dares would be enough for the time being. She glanced at Jemima who returned a weak smile and knew she was hoping the same thing.

Harriet shook the hat, tossing the little slips of paper about as Minerva gathered her courage. “Here I go,” she said, and plunged her hand into the hat.

Everyone stilled, waiting for Minerva to reveal her dare. The young woman closed her eyes for a moment, as if in prayer, and then unfolded the paper. A smile curved over her lovely mouth and it was clear that the dare suited her very well indeed.

“Well?” Matilda demanded.

Minerva sat up straighter, cleared her throat and read aloud. “Go somewhere you are not supposed to go.”

“Why do I get the feeling you already know where you are going?” Matilda said, wondering if she ought to keep a closer eye on Minerva.

“Because I do,” Minerva replied, an innocent expression in her eyes that fooled no one.

“Oh?” Prue asked, her tone eloquently saying exactly what Matilda had just been thinking. “Where?”

Minerva smirked and laid her hands neatly in her lap. “Why, to a lecture at the Royal Society, of course.”

Chapter 16

Dear Ruth,

I read your letter to the ladies at the last meeting as you requested. Of course we are all dying of curiosity to know more and I expect you will receive a barrage of questions in the letters that are even now coming your way.

Just tell me one thing, dear, and I’ll not plague you further with endless queries.

Are you happy?

― Excerpt of a letter from Miss Matilda Hunt to Mrs Ruth Anderson.

20th November 1814. St Clair’s London Residence, St James.

Jerome jolted as his wife’s bedroom door closed in his face. Miss Lacey had become as fierce as a bulldog ever since the accident, guarding her mistress from anything that might cause her distress. Apparently, that included him.

He’d gone to deliver Mr Knight’s flowers and hadn’t made it over the threshold. The flowers had been gently but firmly taken from his grasp by the maid as she informed him that his wife was sleeping and ought not to be disturbed. Perhaps later.

The twisting in his gut told him that later was likely to be about the same time hell froze over. Utterly despondent, he walked back along the corridor, at a loss for what to do next.

“Jerome?”

He turned to see his mother behind him and walked back to her.

“Why aren’t you with Bonnie?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

Jerome shrugged, trying to repress the childish urge to demand his mother make it all better. He was a grown man, for heaven’s sake; he ought to be able to sort out his own problems. Except he was miserable, and he didn’t know what to do or say to Bonnie to make it all right, because there weren’t any words and it wouldn’t be all right. He wasn’t all right himself, so how could Bonnie be? And how the devil was he to even try when she wouldn’t let him anywhere near her?

“She won’t see me,” he said, avoiding looking at his mother as the sorrow and sympathy in her eyes was enough to make his throat tighten. He stared at the carpet instead, and so didn’t immediately realise his mother had walked off until he heard a firm knock on Bonnie’s door.

He watched as the door opened and his mother bestowed a dazzling smile upon Miss Lacey.

“I’d like to see my daughter-in-law,” she said, standing to one side and gesturing for Miss Lacey to leave the room. “In private,” she added, in the obey or suffer the consequences tone Jerome recognised from his childhood.