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Nettie and Emily held expectant expressions while Lenora chewed on her bottom lip.

Naturally, she must remain completely silent around Eliza and Cassie. Asquith had only agreed to these liaisons because of the danger her sisters’ husbands posed.

Neither could she confide the slightest fear to Millie. Millie and Asquith were too close. Millie would guess the source and think nothing of chastising Asquith for causing Lenora’s upset.

But surely, she could turn to Nettie and Emily.

“I am nervous because I am no longer certain I am doing the right thing,” she whispered, as though Asquith were near enough to overhear.

“What do you mean?” Nettie demanded at full volume. “Are you telling us you don’t want Asquith anymore?”

“No.” She glanced back out the window.

Wanting him wasn’t the problem. Who wouldn’t want him? He was such a gentleman.

She was simply scared.

Scared that on her own she could never convince him to wed. As her fruitless attempt at a kiss had proven, she was hardly a seductress.

She wasn’t fierce like her sister Eliza, or kind like Cassie, or strong like Millie, or clever like Nettie. Sometimes, she feared she was what her father had called her—unwanted, invisible Lenora.

But no. Her father was wrong. She was perceptive, and she was loyal, if sometimes consumed by her own thoughts. But was her real self sufficient to her task?

Could Asquith love the real Lenora?

If she wasn’t captivating, her slim chance at happiness could slip through her fingers. And she’d only mustered the nerve to present Asquith with her ultimatum because she’d appropriated Millie’s cunning.

“If I could just figure out who I need to be for our encounter...”

“Ah,” Nettie said, instantly understanding.

“Why wouldn’t you just be yourself?” Emily asked.

Because being “herself” might not be enough. She could be herself with Emily and her sisters because she trusted they would judge her in the best possible light.

With everyone else, she needed armor. Armor to protect invisible, unwanted Lenora.

Nettie turned to Emily. “Lenora has a cupboard full of personalities.”

“Oh, I know she’s very good at acting.” Emily said. “Do you remember when I asked you all to join my dancing lessons last Season?” She covered her giggles. “Lenora tied a fichu around her neck as if she were wearing a cravat, and then she played the male part like a perfect dandy.” She chuckled. “So droll.”

“I remember,” Lenora replied.

She often used her talent to make her sisters laugh. And they had all needed a laugh that day.

The Wainwrights had gone to D’Acre House to study dancing with Emily. But their hearts had been heavy with the worry that their eldest sister Eliza would soon leave them, and for a man they barely knew. Thus, Lenora had created Sir Dingdongalong.

She sighed. If only she had a character, whether real or imagined, to turn to at this moment.

Emily, perhaps? She cocked her head and stared across the carriage. Emily’s open nature made her seem incapable of secrets.

“Eek!” Emily shrank back. “Don’t tell me you’d try to be me.”

“If it upsets you, I won’t,” Lenora replied. “But at least tell me this—if you were about to have a clandestine meeting, how might you prepare?”

“That would depend on what I wanted to accomplish, I suppose,” Emily answered.

“We already know what Lenora wants,” Nettie said. “Marriage.”