Page 26 of Dare to Risk it All

“Send what—” Greer faltered as Aisling took the lid of the box with all the flourish of a magician pulling out a rabbit. “The hat!”

“Yes!” Aisling said, her dark eyes sparkling with delight as she set it down on the bed beside Greer. “I know you took your dare when Arabella and Florence did, but I haven’t, and I wanted you to be here. What was yours, by the way?”

Greer laughed, remembering her dare. “Oh, good heavens. Mine is a dreadful dilemma. I’m supposed to swap places with someone, but who? And where could I do it? I haven’t yet had an opportunity present itself, but I’m determined I will manage it.”

“Goodness,” Aisling said, looking horrified at the idea. “Who do you think you could be?”

“I don’t know, but Mama’s dare was similar, so it seems like fate, don’t you think? She dressed up as Papa’s imaginary male cousin, Bartholomew Camden, which is dreadfully shocking, of course, but that’s Mama for you. Though, things weren’t so ridiculously strict in her day,” Greer added mournfully.

“She did?” Aisling’s eyes had grown as wide as dinner plates, and she looked rather pale. Greer suspected her enthusiasm for taking a dare was waning by the second. “It does seem like fate, doesn’t it? There’s an element of magic to this hat, I think,” she added, studying it with growing apprehension.

“Magic?” Greer repeated dubiously. Aisling had always been rather whimsical and prone to flights of fancy, and her interest in myths and folk history was well known, but really...! “How on earth is the hat magic? It’s just full of bits of paper.”

“Oh, Gee,” Aisling said, climbing on the bed beside her. “It isn’t just bits of paper. Our mothers wrote those dares. They were all hoping for something—for better futures, for confidence, for friends and for husbands, for security—and it wasn’t just for themselves, but for each other. Think of it, all those women believing in something and supporting each other, and now us, the next generation, have added our own to the mix. We’ve begun it all over again. How can there not be fate and magic tied into it? Think of all the love and hope invested in those bits of paper, and how many lives they have changed.”

A thrill of alarm skittered down Greer’s back as Aisling’s words sank in. “Well, if you put it like that,” she said, staring at the hat in alarm.

Aisling nodded, her gaze also riveted to the battered old top hat. She swallowed, plucking nervously at her nightgown.

“Well, I’ve taken mine,” Greer said, very relieved she’d not had this conversation before she’d taken her own, or she might have been a great deal more afraid.

At the time she’d seen it as a lark, even if her dare had been shocking. She still did not know how on earth she could complete it.

Aisling took a deep breath and knelt beside the hat.

“You look like you’re staring into a cauldron or a crystal ball,” Greer said, amused despite her anxiety. After all, it was Aisling’s turn, thank heavens.

“Not helping, Gee,” Aisling murmured, sending her a reproachful glance.

“Well, go on, then.”

Aisling bit her lip. “I know it’s silly,” she said, sounding rather desperate. “But hold my hand?”

Greer complied at once, secretly not thinking it silly at all. Aisling’s explanation of the power of the hat had set her nerves leaping, and she did not blame the girl for being afraid.

“Here I go, then,” Aisling said, though she didn’t move, just stared down at the little bits of paper. “I’m going to take one,” she added, still not moving.

“Aisling,” Greer said, amused now.

Aisling nodded. “I am. I’m going to. I will… in a minute.”

“Aisling!”

“Oh, Gee, I—”

“Get on with it!”

Aisling squealed and thrust her hand in the hat, pulling out a tiny slip of paper and dropping it onto the bed as if it had burned her. She covered her eyes with her hands.

“I can’t look!” she said, breathing hard. “Is it scandalous?”

Feeling ridiculously reluctant to touch it, Greer picked up the dare. It was a more recent one, the paper new and fresh, clearly written by a Daring Daughter, not a Peculiar Lady.

“Oh,” she said, as she read the neat handwriting.

“What?” Aisling asked desperately, peering at Greer through her fingers. “What is it? Is it dreadful?”

Greer bit her lip, hardly knowing how to reply. “It is a bit dreadful,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.