She’d do the waltz in Sebastian’s arms. She’d feel like his equal.
Because she would be his equal. He’d asked her to marry him. It was hard to keep still in her chair by Lady Indigo’s side as memories swirled through her brain of yesterday’s rapturous encounter with Sebastian in the folly. His ardor and his sincerity regarding a shared future were not in doubt.
He had [BH2] never given her reason to doubt his love for her. Never.
And now nothing stood in the way of what she’d always wanted. Finally, she would have the love match that she had never believed could be hers.
She was brought back to the reality of her menial situation by Lady Indigo’s disdainful, "No need for any charitable donations or loans for Venetia. She and I will take our leave at daybreak tomorrow if we’re to make it home without having to spend the night along the way. One thing I will not do is sleep at an inn." Lady Indigo sounded brisk. "Which means an early night for me. A round of cards after supper and then I shall retire."
"Oh! Ladies Fenton, Quamby. Lady Indigo." It was Miss Reeves arriving in the doorway, curtsying prettily but looking unusually flustered as she hesitated on the Aubusson carpet. "Is it true my father will be arriving after lunch tomorrow?"
Venetia glanced up from untangling Lady’s Indigo’s wool. There was a tremulous note to Miss Reeves’s voice, and the hems [BH3] of her white skirts were damp, suggesting she’d been outdoors.
"He is, but you have no need to fear anything, my dear Miss Reeves. Everything is in order. I know all about the state of affairs between you and your young man."
Venetia blinked rapidly. This was all very confidential, surely? But then, she'd heard Lady Quamby was not known for her tact. And, from her own years of servitude, Venetia also knew she had a habit of being disregarded if she stayed quietly where she was and did not engage with the company at large.
“You do?”
Lady Quamby clicked her tongue in sympathy. "Yes, I do. And I know you and your father have not seen eye to eye lately."
"We have not spoken in three months." Miss Reeves sounded forlorn. She hesitated awkwardly near the doorway, looking reluctant to come any farther. Perhaps she, too, found the personal interrogation a little too confronting.
"Not since you rejected Lord Yarrowby. Yes, I know."
“My father hasn’t...said anything, has he?”
Lady Quamby shook her head. “No need to sound so anxious, my dear. And just because he's bringing Lord Yarrowby with him is no need for concern, either."
"So Lord Yarrowby is coming too? My father and Lord Yarrowby?" The girl sounded panicked, and Venetia felt a twinge of reluctant sympathy.
“Nobody is going to force you to marry Lord Yarrowby if you don’t wish it.” Lady Quamby patted the settee beside her, and Miss Reeves, with clear reluctance, took a seat. Venetia sent her a covert glance and saw that Lady Quamby seemed to be taking a very friendly, almost maternal approach toward the girl.
Venetia, herself, had had little to do with Miss Reeves. Not because Miss Reeves was rude or standoffish. She simply seemed not to have noticed Venetia.
“If...if only Papa would let me follow my heart.” Her voice sounded very small and, again, Venetia felt a stab of sympathy. After all, she and Sebastian had been in the same difficult situation just a few years before. Intractable papas had a great deal of power.
“And so he will, once he knows the caliber of the man you wish to have as your husband. After all, it’s not as if you’re wanting to marry someone entirely unsuitable.” Lady Quamby gave a tinkling laugh. “If you had wanted to run away with the dancing master or stable boy, then you could understand your papa taking a dim view of it.” She patted Miss Reeves’s hand. “However, the fact that Mr Wells is a perfectly eligible gentleman who can provide more than adequately for you, means your father can have no reasonable grounds for preventing a union between you.”
Venetia wasn't sure if she gasped. Someone certainly did in the tense silence that followed. A silence broken only by Miss Reeves saying in a halting, tentative voice, "Mr...Wells?”
From across the room, Venetia could see the fierce blush that had risen to Miss Reeves’s cheeks. It must echo her own, she thought with a sudden terrible awfulness.
Confused, her hand poised midair with her needle, she listened to Miss Reeves ask, “So...you think my father could be persuaded to drop his insistence that I marry Lord Yarrowby if he were to talk with...Mr Wells?"
"Mr Wells is utterly charming. How could your father not be thoroughly satisfied by such a replacement for Lord Yarrowby? It's true that Mr Wells is not titled, but he is in line to inherit from his uncle, I understand. I also believe a large part of your father's objection might stem from the fact that Mr Wells has an infant son so you would not [BH4] in fact be the mother of Mr Wells’s heir—that is, if he should come into the viscountcy. But, as has been said, Mr Wells is very comfortably settled, and your father surely would not stand in the way of the happiness of his only daughter if he knew she'd be well provisioned." Lady Quamby sighed and put her hand to her breast. "Nothing should be allowed to stand in the way of true love."
True love? Venetia caught herself when she realized she must be staring, openmouthed, at Miss Reeves; though, of course, no one ever noticed the quiet companion, sitting unobtrusively in her corner. But...true love? Miss Reeves and...Sebastian?
Lady Fenton cleared her throat and addressed Miss Reeves. "Do reassure us, Arabella, that your heart is set on this? It's not some foolish flight of fancy? I know that the two of you met at a house party four months ago, but I gather you’ve not had many occasions to be together.” She hesitated. “I would hope you’ve not become estranged from your father for a trifling flirtation? Have you received a formal proposal...or just an indication that a marriage offer will be forthcoming?"
Venetia swallowed. What was the girl going to say? How had Venetia not known about this?
"I've been madly, desperately in love for months!" Miss Reeves declared, looking rather desperately toward the door. "Why, when you invited me to be your guest, I could not contain my delight at discovering that it would be possible to be united with...the only man I could ever love! I...I just need my father to understand how determined I am.”
“But my dear, has he made a formal proposal yet?”
Miss Reeves reddened. “Not yet,” she whispered.