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“I don’t know. Did you not tell him our plan?”
“I did,” he answered. “And he agreed to it.”
She held her breath as her sister and Withington stopped dancing and stood in the center of the room, talking rapidly, arguing. Her sister’s hands were clenched at her sides. Their voices could be heard over the music. “She’s going to hit him! What should we do?”
“Nothing,” he answered. “It is out of our hands now.”
All around the couple, the floor began to clear, the faces of those nearby displaying open delight. The music slowly ground to a dissonant halt.
“Amelia, I beg you!” pleaded Withington loudly, breaking the silence that had fallen in the room. She turned away, but he grabbed her hand and held it fast. “I find myself in a place of utter shame at my heart’s betrayal, but I can no longer deny the truth. My love for you has grown such that I cannot!”
These words rang off the walls of the room, echoed by murmurs of shock.
“What of her sister?” called a merry voice from amid the crowd, followed by another wave of murmurs.
Withington turned and addressed them, still holding Amelia’s hand. “Though we have become friends, I have not the heart to marry Lady Victoria when I feel so passionately for another. I shall instead be happy to call her sister.” He turned to Amelia again and dropped to his knees before her. “If you’ll have me, that is. Marry me, Amelia. I cannot live without you.”
Even from her vantage point, Victoria could see the tears running down his face. She watched as her sister stood there for a long moment, staring down at him with wide eyes, the rising and falling of her chest rapid and shallow.
Please, please, please…
A collective gasp rose from the crowd as Amelia swayed on her feet and slumped. Withington caught her, and the crowd applauded, swept away by the performance as he carried her off the ballroom floor.
“What devilry is this?” she heard her father say from behind her as the crowd parted before Withington like the Red Sea before Moses. “I demand to know what just happened!”
“I think, Your Grace, that the Marquess has decided to take matters into his own hands,” said Julius. He looked down at her and winked. “See you in a bit,” he whispered.
Feigning shock—which wasn’t all that difficult, given the circumstances—Victoria fled the ballroom to wait for him.
Two days later, Victoria scanned the morning papers. All of London was abuzz. Never had there been a more confusing and delicious tangle of gossip.
The plan, for all that it had been nearly uprooted by Withy’s intervention, had worked beautifully. Amelia had come around while still in Withington’s arms, and he’d kissed her in full view of several witnesses. Victoria smiled at the account written in the Gazette. According to those witnesses, she’d kissed him back—most ardently.
Her own part in the plan had worked perfectly, as well. The following morning, Julius had been discovered in her bed. Everyone assumed he’d been “comforting” her—and himself—after they’d both been thrown over. No one seemed to remember that they’d gone missing for half the day prior. If they did, they kept quiet about it.
“I cannot imagine why you should be smiling,” said Papa. “Especially not after reading of our family’s shame in that rag.”
“But there is no shame, Papa,” she said, unruffled by his tone. “All that remains is for Amelia to accept Withy’s proposal, and everything will be fine.”
“I will not force her to it.”
“You saw them kiss.”
He squirmed. “That is beside the point. She had only just awakened from a faint. It means nothing.”
“He loves her.”
This time, there was no reply. She knew Withington had come to him with the truth. She’d heard him beg leave to marry Amelia. He’d given permission with great reluctance, pending her agreement. But despite their now-famous embrace, her sister had adamantly refused.
“You know what will happen if she does not marry him.”
“Yes. And so does she,” he said gruffly. “It is her choice. I tried once before to force her hand, to my eternal regret. I will not do it again.”
Victoria was mystified by his answer. What was he talking about? Her sister swept in at that moment, precluding any further conversation. Victoria slid the papers over to her as she sat down. “Everyone is wondering when the announcement will be made.”
Amelia’s eyes shot daggers at her as she pushed the papers away. “There won’t be any announcement, not with my name attached to it, anyway.”
“Amelia—”
