by Abby Ayles
Regina bowed her head, accepting his apology. “I have a feeling that you will not stop until I simply say ‘thank you’ and agree to your wrongdoing.”
“You would be correct.” Harrison smiled at her for a moment. Then he sobered.
“I know that I am nothing of the sort, of course. But I cannot help but feel a sense of responsibility towards you. I find myself wishing to treat you as I would any young lady. Then I remember that I can’t.
“You have put your faith in me and I find that makes me feel responsible towards you. If you were to find yourself in a position of danger or scandal it would be my fault. I feel that I must take care of you in that way.
“It’s not because I feel that you are a child. I would feel this way, I think, even if you were older than I am. It is because rather of the position that we are in. Not our ages.”
“I just want you to treat me as an equal,” Regina replied. “You can look after me without coddling me. I appreciate how you treat me. I like that you are protective of me. I feel safe when I am with you.
“But I am a woman, and I wish to be treated as one. I know that there might be times when I am not always mature. I know that my age might create some barrier or moments of recklessness. I am certainly being reckless with this entire endeavor.”
Harrison chuckled quietly, amused.
“But I am also an adult and any mistakes I make are the mistakes of an adult, not the mistakes of a child.” Regina bit her lip. “Everyone always speaks of me as… as this mouse. As someone to be talked over and around. I do not wish to experience that from you.”
“And I am sorry if I have made you feel that way,” Harrison replied. “You are someone that I respect. Please do not doubt that. I will do my best to curb that behavior in the future.”
“So are we at a truce?” Regina asked, teasing him. “I have accepted your apology and you have accepted my corrections?”
“Yes, truce.” Harrison smiled. “Now, let us find Cora and avail her to play. There is not much time left and we must use all of it as best we can.”
Regina nodded. “Yes.”
Time was running out.
Chapter 27
They found Cora much in the same position that Regina had left her.
“Oh, my Lord, could you two look any more contrite.” Cora announced her annoyance the moment they entered the sitting room. She was sitting and reading a book, looking thoroughly put out. “One would think that you two had killed one another’s kittens or something for the looks on your faces.”
“Perhaps I am merely basking in the first proper apology I have had to give in years,” Harrison replied. “Contain your excitement, Cora, this does not mean I shall go about apologizing for anything else.”
“Oh, of course, that would be too much to ask of you.”
“Are you two certain that you are not related?” Regina asked. “Because you behave like siblings.”
“Cora wishes that she was related to me, but alas,” Harrison said dramatically, putting a hand over his heart, “Unless we stumbled into a Gothic romance when I wasn’t looking and she is secretly my half-sister or somesuch, no. We are not.”
Cora scoffed. “I thought that she was here to learn cards, hmm? Shall we go back to teaching her useful things?”
“Never mind her,” Harrison said. “She uses her cruel sense of humor to show her affection. As I’m sure you have well figured out. Her jealousy is a petty thing next to her congratulations for you.”
“She hides her congratulations well,” Regina remarked, a little put out by Cora’s attitude.
Cora sighed and set aside her book. “My sweet little one. I am quite happy for you. Although I must admit seeing your blissful faces does make my gut ache something fierce. So long as you do not flaunt it in my face overmuch, I see no reason to be anything but pleased for you. It is much better that you learn these things now, and snatch happiness where you can.”
Happiness? Regina did not think this to be quite so much as happiness—was it? Certainly she felt contented. She felt blissful, her body sighing with the echoes of great pleasure. And she was most comfortable on Harrison’s arm, at Harrison’s side.
Was this happiness? And if so, was she so unused to feeling it that she could not properly recognize it when it hit her? The thought startled her.
“Cora does raise one good point,” Harrison admitted. “We must turn to the cards. You are getting to be quite reliable in your talents, my Puck. Shall we?”
Regina nodded. Yes. To the cards.
They played again and again. Regina, her fears temporarily put aside by Harrison’s reassurances in their relationship, was able to concentrate better than she had the last few days.
She endered a kind of zone, so to speak. It was like she was thinking, but not as hard as she had been. Or it was just as hard, but she didn’t feel it. It was like she was coasting, almost, in her mind.
“It happens when you go riding for a long time as well,” Harrison told her when she explained it to him. “When your body or mind is doing something for a great length of time, it begins to sort of enter this state where it’s continuing to do it but without expending as much energy. It’s strange but also a little addicting, isn’t it?”
It was. Regina could understand why people went riding for so many hours. She had always imagined that it must be quite bothersome, getting knocked around on a horse and earning large bruises. But if they were entering the kind of state that she was, in their own way, then she could hardly blame them.
The next few days were very focused. Harrison and Cora let her be the dealer more and more often. In time her hands were able to go through the motions of shuffling and dealing without her looking at the cards as she did it.
She was winning more and more often, and it was getting harder for Thomas to beat her. She could see him struggling, even while Cora laughed at the both of them for their intensity and competitiveness.
“You two are a pair,” she would declare. “Both of you stubborn as mules and refusing to back down. If this were an actual game you’d have both staked your entire fortunes and your first born children by now.”
It was a joke, of course, but it struck Regina through the heart. Was this how her father was? Was she becoming a gambling addict as he was?
She brought it up to Thomas one night, after they had finished and she was preparing to be escorted home.
“You seem thoughtful, my Puck,” he noted as he put away the cards. “Is something amiss?”
Regina sighed. “It is merely that I worry that I am turning into my father. The way that Cora describes us—how competitive we are with one another—and how determined I am to win. The way I love… I am ashamed, I admit, of the way that I love how my mind gets when we are deep in a game. I fear that is how my father is and that after this game, I still will not be able to stop playing. That I will bring my family to disgrace and ruin, as he did.”
Harrison sat down next to her. “Miss Regina Hartfield. Listen to me. You are becoming good at something. I think, perhaps, that this is the first thing that you have truly worked for in the company of others where you can show off your skill. Is that true?”
Regina nodded.
“Then it is only natural that you should be a bit competitive. If you were used to doing activities with others, such as riding, I think it would not strike you so hard to be the best. When we are deprived of something, such as praise or recognition, to finally see the chance to obtain it is tempting indeed.
“But do you think of the cards as you lie in bed? Do you wake up with only one longing in your chest: to play again?”
Regina shook her head. It was only when she was in the middle of playing that she felt that strong determination to win. In those moments it was as if someone had wrapped a string around her stomach and pulled, and she was compelled to follow that string.
But the rest of the day? No. She was easily distracted, by Cora and Aunt Jane and letters from her sisters and so on
. Thomas himself was most distracting as well.
She shook her head again, for emphasis.
“Tell me, then, what you think of when you sit down to play.”
Regina thought about that. “I think of my family,” she admitted at last. “It feels foolish to say, I know. But that is what I think on. I remember that this is the only way to save them. I remind myself that I must be the best, and if I do not best you, how can I hope to best Lord Pettifer?”
Harrison nodded. “That is good. That is as it should be. If you thought only of how you enjoyed playing and how you wanted to win, then I should be concerned. But your goal is still firm in hand and your senses are about you.
“It’s all right, you know, to enjoy this a bit. I should hope that learning how to play hasn’t been a trial for you and that you should find some joy in it. If you were miserable every game, I would feel quite awful, I must admit.
“But you do not have to worry. I have been watching you, as I must, to help you to improve. I have seen no sign of addiction about you. And why should I? There is no hole in your life that you are trying to fill.”
“It seems that there is,” Regina admitted. She could feel her cheeks burning with shame as she spoke, revealing herself in such a way. How Harrison had the ability to make her feel so young and small and stupid, she didn’t know.
“I feel as though my entire life has been empty up until now, and that in some ways it is still empty, and that once this is over it will be empty all over again. Only it will be more painful this time, because I will know more of myself.
“I will know that I have been clever, and accomplished, and useful. Even if it was with something that I am not supposed to know of, even if it is something I cannot share with others. Even though I can never tell my family of what I did. I know. That is what matters.
“But after I defeat Lord Pettifer, if I defeat him, then it’s gone. And I don’t know what I shall do after that. My sisters will marry soon, even after this dark cloud is lifted. They all wish to marry and of course they must. And then it will only be me.
“I know that no man will have me. And so there is nothing for me. I have no friends.”
“You have my friends,” Harrison cut in. “They are your friends now as well. They all like you. Cora certainly likes you. I believe that she views you as a younger sister such as she never had.”
Regina blinked rapidly to hide her tears. It had not occurred to her that Cora or any of Harrison’s other friends would wish to continue to see her. But of course…
“You will forgive my impudence, but I feel compelled to remind you that your friends are not always the sort that are welcome in everyone’s homes.”
“That is true,” Harrison allowed, “But they are always welcome in mine. And you are welcome in mine as well, and must be, for when I marry your sister I know she will hardly bear to be parted from you for any length of time.”
“I confess that I feel I have grown somewhat in her absence,” Regina replied.
“That is natural. She is as a mother to you. All children must grow a little away from their parents.”
Regina thought of some of the things that Cora had said. She wondered if perhaps even Bridget didn’t see all that Regina was and could be. Perhaps her sister, in her love, had coddled Regina just a little bit.
“Well, then, I shall have you and your friends,” Regina said. “Although of course I must share you with Bridget.”
“Of course.”
Regina ignored the sudden pang in her heart at the thought. Thomas was never hers, not truly. How could she be sad to lose him, or share him, rather?
Their card games and their time with one another could not continue after things returned to normal and Bridget married him. It was foolish to think so.
But oh, she would miss it. She would miss having Harrison’s full attention. No. Lord Harrison. She must remember to think of him that way again. She must put distance between them, even if it was only in her head.
She would miss knowing that he was taking time out of his day simply to be with her. She would miss having his gaze upon her, looking at her like she was the only person in the room—in the whole world.
She shook herself out of such thoughts. Thomas was only behaving this way because it would get him Bridget. Regina knew that he cared for her, of course. He would not be so kind to her if he did not. But to think he looked at her as though she were the only person in the room?
What a childish fool, to think of such things.
“I cannot have a social circle that only includes you all, of course,” Regina went on. “And I fear going back into ballrooms on my own.”
“Perhaps,” Lord Harrison said, speaking slowly, “This masked ball may be an opportunity in more ways than one, then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that while you do have a habit of speaking out of turn, you are not so awful as you fear. With your mask on, nobody will know you. You can move freely.
“I think that, before the card game starts and after it is finished, it would be good for you to roam the ball. Dance with some gentlemen. Chat with some ladies.
“After all is said and done, I believe that you will find they embrace you. I truly believe that you will discover you have more to offer than you think you do. Furthermore, I think that you will enjoy yourself more than you anticipate. All that is needed is to free yourself from the burdens of what you feel others expect and believe of you.”
Regina did not quite believe him, but she was willing to give it a try. If only to prove him wrong.
“Very well. Another little bargain between us. I shall move about the ball and engage others in conversation and dance. If they embrace me as they have embraced my sisters in the past, then you are right. If they reject me, then I am proven right and the fault lies entirely within myself.”
“I have found that so rarely does the fault lie entirely with one person.” Harrison’s lips twitched in amusement. “But we shall see in the end who has the right of it.”
Regina smiled at him, looking forward, almost, to winning. Yet at the same time hoping she lost. She was never going to be a social butterfly but she did want to discover that she could discourse with others.
She wanted to prove herself as more than she had always thought she was.
“Again, Regina, if I may return to the subject of your father—if I thought you in danger of developing an addiction, I promise you I should not have continued in your training.
“You are a lady, and as such cannot play outside of this masked ball. Even if you were a man, I would not allow you to play if you were addicted to it. It’s a dangerous thing and always only ever leads to ruination.
“Many a man has thought that he could use it. Rather, the addiction uses him. He will not stop while he is ahead. If he gains a large win, he loses it the next day in another game. No man can win every time. Not with the cards such as they are.
“And yet men try. They try. And they try. And they try again. And for every win there are only heavier losses to follow.”
Thomas’s eyes were glinting in the firelight. It made him look otherworldly once again. As always, it drew Regina in. Even though she knew that it probably should have done the opposite.
“Trust me, my Puck, I would not have let you throw yourself away on such a hopeless endeavor.”
“I suppose I ought to thank you, then, Your Majesty,” Regina replied. She allowed herself to tease a little, fearing that she had made the mood too somber with her childish fears.
“I would be an irresponsible mentor if I did not take such care,” Thomas replied. “And do not beat yourself up about this, Regina. You do enough of that already. It is a legitimate fear and I am glad that you are aware of it as a potential pitfall.”
He rose, holding his hands together behind his back. “Now, I think it is best that we retire. These next few days will be the most intense. The ball is only a week away. Therefore, we must prepare as much as we c
an.”
The ball. Yes. Only a week away. It startled her at how fast the time had flown. And yet, it felt like ages ago since she had been in her own home.
Had it only been a month since she had been so blissfully unaware of how her father’s sins would ruin them all? Had it been so short a time since she had last been idle? Had she not seen her sisters in such a time?
Soon it would all come to a head. There were only the next few days to focus on card playing. Then, the last details must be hammered out for attending the ball: how best to approach the game, how to avoid anyone recognizing her, and so on.
Then it would be the day of the ball itself. And there would be the game.
Regina’s stomach twisted with worry and anticipation. On that day, she had to be her best. There was simply no other option. Her feelings for Lord Harrison, any esteem she had for him, her fears, her misgivings, their silly bet about her social skills. All of it must fall away.
There could only be the game.
Chapter 28
The next few days were an absolute flurry.
Regina arranged for Aunt Jane and Cora to meet. The two women took to one another immediately. They cited various mutual acquaintances. Aunt Jane made a remark about Cora’s mother that was not permitted in most polite society, which sent Cora off into peals of delighted laughter.
“The fastest way to form friends, my dear,” Aunt Jane said off of Regina’s aghast expression, “Is to find things that you mutually and vehemently dislike.”
That seemed rather backwards to Regina. But since Aunt Jane and Cora were getting along so well, who was she to question it?
Aunt Jane and Cora worked together and went with Regina to select what she would wear to the masquerade ball.
The plan was that Regina would have two outfits.
The first would be an outfit done in such a fashion that anyone looking at it should instantly know that it was her. It was rather simple in style and done up in a dark, muted blue. It went well with her eyes, or so she was told by a cooing Aunt Jane and a beaming Cora.