Page 58 of An Enchanting Dare

“Mr Sylvester Cootes, by any chance?” Evie murmured nonchalantly.

Aisling stared at her before snatching up a pillow. “Oh, you!” she exclaimed, batting Evie about the head with it.

Evie squealed and scrambled away, snatching up a weapon of her own and before long there were feathers flying. The two of them collapsed back on the bed, laughing and gasping and choking on the little fluffy tufts of down drifting in the air.

“I c-can’t believe it was so obvious,” Aisling grumbled, hugging her ill-used pillow.

“Darling, it was obvious from the start that he was besotted with you, and when Viv and I saw you together in April, we both felt it was inevitable.”

“Well, you and fate knew better than I did, but you were right, and… Oh, Evie, I’m glad. I said he was annoying and provoking, and he is, but in the best way. He won’t let me hide. He forces me to be myself and to be honest, and I cannot tell you how very liberating that is. I can say what I want and be as prickly and obnoxious as I like, and he still adores me.” She could hear the wonder in her own voice and longing to be with Sylvester swept over her, making her sick with wanting him.

“What is it like, being in love?” Evie asked, frowning.

Aisling rolled over to regard her friend, whose gaze was intent, and she saw it was no idle question.

“It’s lovely for the most part, but it hurts, too. I miss him dreadfully, and I worry he will never be able to offer for me. Not that I care how much money he has, but he does, and I want him to be happy, too. Half the time I’m wretched, the other half I’m walking on air. It’s all rather a muddle, I suppose, but I think if it were easy, it might not be so worth fighting for.”

Evie pondered this, staring down at the pretty embroidered counterpane covering the bed. It had been her nineteenth birthday present from Aisling. Blue silk roses climbed over a creamy lace trellis and Aisling had worked each one herself with painstaking attention to detail. The tiny caterpillar Aisling had hidden in one corner had delighted Evie, more so when she’d assured her friend that even beautiful things were imperfect and all the lovelier for it.

Now, Evie traced the petals of one of the larger flowers, her gaze remote. “Does it frighten you, to put your faith in him, to know he’ll be your husband forever? How can you trust him to be what you need, to be faithful to you?”

Aisling considered the question and considered Sylvester. “No one can see the future, Evie. But I believe I see Sylvester, see the man he is, the man he wishes to be, and don’t believe he would ever hurt me that way. I trust him because I love him, and part of loving is having faith, I suppose. I don’t think you can have one without the other. Does that help?”

“I’m not sure it does,” Evie said, laughing, though Aisling did not think she was joking. “Oh, never mind that. Though I am so happy for you, Aisling, but now… we have bigger things to think about.”

“Bigger things than the man I want to spend the rest of my life with?” Aisling said, affecting a dramatic voice and pressing her hand to her forehead like some Gothic heroine falling into a swoon.

“Yes,” Evie said decisively, clambering off the bed. “Rosamund and Kathleen will be here at any moment, and it’s time to complete your dare!”

Aisling groaned and buried her head in the pillow, but Evie grabbed hold of her hands and began tugging. Aisling shrieked, laughing as pillows, counterpane, and her billowing skirts were all deposited in an untidy heap on the floor. “Well, if this is how you treat your guests….” she began, crossing her arms and trying to look annoyed.

“No, not my guests, silly, only my dearest friends,” Evie said, giving her a saucy wink and running out of the door.

“Wait for me!” Aisling yelled, gathering up her skirts and feeling silly and childish, and altogether happy to be in her friend’s company.

Chapter 20

Dear Pip,

Wherever have you got to of late? We’ve seen so little of you. The scandal sheets imply you are up to no good. Is it true? We all miss you.

I wish you would come and visit us again. It’s been an age and I know Jules would love to see you, though he’s too stubborn to suggest it himself. Shall we see you soon?

― Excerpt of a letter from Lady Rosamund Adolphus (daughter of their graces, Robert and Prunella Adolphus, The Duke and Duchess of Bedwin) to The Right Hon’ble Philip Barrington, The Earl of Ashburton (Eldest son of The Most Hon’ble Lucian and Matilda Barrington, Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu)

25th August 1841, Swan Hall, East Sussex.

“What are you up to, you wicked girls?” Lady Helena demanded, narrowing her eyes at Evie, Rosamund, Kathleen and Aisling. The four of them had their heads together, whispering, and had clearly piqued the interest of Evie’s mama, who was playing cards with Aisling’s mother and father and Cara.

“Something dreadful, I hope,” Aisling’s mother said, smiling at her warmly. Aisling blushed and bit her lip.

“No. Nothing,” Evie replied, the picture of innocence.

“Don’t believe a word of it,” grumbled Mr Knight, looking up from the game of spillikins he was playing with his younger children, Felix and Emmeline.

At sixteen, Felix was at the awkward stage where he was growing at an alarming rate and was all long legs and arms. It was clear he had inherited his father’s good looks, though, as well as his cutthroat desire to win, judging from the intense concentration on his face.

“It moved! Now it’s my turn,” Emmeline crowed in triumph, trying to elbow her brother out of the way.