“—but I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about. If there is nothing wrong with the man—”
“The man is dangerous. He was playing games with me.”
“Are you certain?”
“He has seduced hundreds of women. I’m sure of it.”
“An estate manager?” Susan asked dubiously. “Aren’t they usually short and fat?”
“This one is handsome as sin. He—”
“Handsome as sin? Really?” Susan’s eyes grew wide. “What does he look like?”
Elizabeth paused, trying not to blush as Mr. Siddons’s face floated in her mind. What was it about that man that was so compelling? Something about his mouth, perhaps. His finely molded lips had the tendency to curve ever so slightly, as if they held the key to a secret joke. But then again, maybe it was his eyes. They were a rather regular shade of brown, the same color as his hair, actually, and should have seemed ordinary, but they were so deep, and when he looked at her, she felt…
“Elizabeth?”
Hot. She felt hot.
“Elizabeth?”
“What?” she asked distractedly.
“What does he look like?”
“Oh. He—oh, goodness, how am I supposed to describe him? He looks like a man.”
“How descriptive,” Susan said in a droll tone. “Remind me never to advise you to seek work as a novelist.”
“I couldn’t possibly make up a story any more ridiculous than the one I’m living right now.”
Susan sobered. “Is it really as bad as that?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said with a sigh that was two parts frustration and one part irritation, “it is. We are almost completely out of the money Father left, and my wages from Lady Danbury are not nearly enough to support us—especially once the lease on the cottage runs out. I have to marry, but the only available man in the district besides Squire Nevins is Lady D’s new estate manager, and he, aside from being far too handsome and dangerous and thinking that I am completely insane, couldn’t possibly earn enough to qualify as a suitable candidate. So I ask you,” she added, her voice rising in pitch and volume, “since you’ve already pointed out that I am not going to make a fortune publishing my letters, what do you propose I do?”
She crossed her arms, rather pleased with her speech.
Susan merely blinked and asked, “Why does he think you’re insane?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Elizabeth ground. “What matters is that I am in a complete bind.”
“As it happens,” Susan said with a slow, deep smile, “I have the answer.”
Elizabeth saw her sister reach behind her back for something and felt anger explode within her. “Oh, no, don’t you even dare to pull that book out again.”
But Susan already had the little red book open. “Listen to this,” she said excitedly. “‘Edict Number Seventeen—’”
“We’re already up to seventeen?”
“Be quiet. ‘Edict Number Seventeen: Life is a rehearsal until you meet the man you marry.’” Susan nodded enthusiastically. “See?”
Silence.
“Elizabeth?”
“You’re joking, aren’t you?”
Susan looked at the book, then looked back up at her sister. “Noooo,” she said slowly, “I—”