Her heart clenching with sympathy for her friend’s plight, Artemis quickly perused the remaining paragraphs of the letter.
I’m afraid there’s no reasoning with Papa. He’s absolutely determined that this will happen, despite my genuine trepidation and the fact that I’m surely too spinsterish and singular in my habits. Even though he will never admit it, I suspect he is terribly short of funds. No doubt his last expedition to Ceylon depleted the family coffers considerably. And then, my brother’s tendency to live extravagantly has not helped. But of course, Monty is being as obstinate as an ox and will not even lift his little finger to win the hand of some biddable heiress. So apparently I am to be the sacrificial lamb who must save the family. Naturally, marrying me off to the highest bidder will certainly reduce Father’s—or perhaps I should sayour—financial difficulties. But I, for one, am not willing to pay the price. I cannot. Iwillnot.
Artemis, you know better than anyone that I am not equipped foranyof this. Unlike you, I’ve never even hadoneSeason. You, my fearless, indomitable friend, are definitely cut from a different cloth.
Oh, hell’s blasted bells. Artemis closed her eyes. Dread coiled through her belly. She knew what was coming even before she read her friend’s next words. Lucy went on:
And so I had a slightly mad, but hopefully not altogether unappealing idea.If you were by my side, my dearest Artemis, helping me to navigate society’s treacherous hunting grounds while fending off any potential suitors—I’m sure they will all be objectionable with not a Mr. Darcy or honorable version of Mr. Rochester amongst them—I’d perhaps stand a fighting chance of surviving unscathed this Season. I’d be forever grateful. Of course, I know I’m putting you in a horribly difficult position—asking you to give up your post at the Avon Academy to be my companion for a few months. But I need you most desperately, and I do so hope you will consider my request.
Who knows, perhaps you could even court a sponsor for your own venture. Then you’d have your college and never have to work at a place like Mrs. Parsons’s horrid finishing school ever again. And of course, we could reconvene our Byronic Book Club meetings with dear Jane at her grandfather’s bookstore. Just think of the fun we could have, plotting and planning our futures while simultaneously swooning over our favorite book beaux. It would be like the old days. The three of us—unconventional and unrepentant—the heroines of our very own stories, forging our way through the world on our own terms. (Well, it’s a lovely dream anyway.)
I await your reply with bated breath.
Ever your devoted friend,
Lucy
Artemis blew out a deep sigh as she rose to her feet and wandered over to a nearby window. For long moments, she stared out of the rain-streaked mullion panes and contemplated her future. The options that might be open to her if she were brave enough to chart a course that was different from the plodding pedestrian path she’d been following for years. While she loved being an author of lurid Gothic romance novels—her publisher advertised them as “literary” penny bloods—it was, for obvious reasons, a clandestine career and indeed must remain so if she were to achieve her ultimate goal. Unfortunately, her book sales, while steady, were such that it would still take her a few more years to save sufficient funds to start her ladies’ college. The same could be said for the wages she earned as a teacher. But if she could find a wealthy, forward-thinking patroness to support her project this Season while also coming to the aid of her closest friend…
If she did agree to Lucy’s plan, she’d somehow have to manage both Aunt Roberta’s and Phoebe’s expectations. As soon as they learned Artemis would be in London for the Season, the cat really would be set amongst the pigeons. There’d be little respite from their nagging to “do her duty and find a husband.” But she’d also have both Lucy and Jane to confide in when it all got too much to bear. Perhaps itwouldbe like old times.
“Well,” Artemis murmured at last as she pushed the letter back into her pocket, “nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Her mind was made up. She couldn’t abandon her darling friend to society’s wolves. And she owed it to herself to at last pursue her own dream. Come what may.
Her heart tripping with anticipation, Artemis lifted her chin and marched straight back to the headmistress’s office. After a cursory knock, she entered and announced with a wide smile and not one iota of regret, “Mrs. Parsons, I’d like my books back, please. I’m tendering my resignation, effective immediately.”