Rachel laid a soft hand on her arm.
Ursula dabbed with Jay’s handkerchief before she faced her cousin again, her thumb burrowing into the center “T” of the monogram. Hers. The object was hers—forever—no matter what. She wound the cloth around her fingers.
Her cousin’s fingers clenched her wrist—warning notes, as forceful as the deep forte chords vibrating from Jay’s left hand.
“I know you’re a very strong swimmer.” The younger girl’s eyes were so, so, so like her father’s now, almost as haunted, if that was possible.
Ursula swallowed. “I have quite a bit of stamina.”
Rachel’s smile was so light it was like the flicker of a candle. “I don’t doubt that, but you deserve to know what’s in the water. You need to ask. You need to have all of the information about yourself, about our family.”
Her family. The past. Why did people care so much about the past? The past was never coming back. Like her mother. The present was now and the future a door away. Why put the person she loved most in the world through the pain and sorrow of the past again?
Ursula removed her hand and grabbed another cookie, plain sugar, not her favorite, but it would do. The pure sunshine of the butter gave her the strength she needed to shrug and nod.
Rachel closed her eyes, as if she savored the sound of Lydia’s voice as the girl hit a high note, or almost hit one. The shy smile became a giddy grin and her eyes shone when she opened them.
Ursula sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Wood, and whiskey, and cloves and cherries, faint, but even with his back to her, the breeze from the forgotten open window carried them to her.
“Talk to your father, Ursula,” Rachel murmured before rising to congratulate Lydia.
Ursula opened her mouth to call after Rachel, but her eyes locked with Jay’s and all questions, all fears, all warnings vanished as she was lost in the possibilities of the future.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Two days later, the door chimed. Ursula tapped her toe as the butler made the appropriate formalities while she waited in the parlor. Time to teach Jay a few things. Would it force him to see—no, too far ahead.
However, before any of that could happen, the afternoon meeting was necessary. In quiet moments, Rachel’s words weighed heavy on her mind, but before she had any conversation with her father, she needed to be honest with everyone involved, unmuddle what she could before braving uncharted territory.
“Hugo.” Ursula rose to greet him as he stumbled into the room, tugging at his collar. “How wonderful to see you.” She grasped both hands and led him to a chair.
Jay slumped back down to occupy the one next to Hugo. Both Rachel and Lydia rose from the chaise.
Lydia cleared her throat. “We should, um, well, we have recitations to practice and class tomorrow. There are so many things to study and we just have to do the best, to be the best, and we shall excuse ourselves...”
Rachel nodded and grasped her friend’s hand. Before anyone else could respond, the girls fled into the hall, giggles tinkling through the house in their wake.
Isaac stood as well. He shifted from side to side, staring at his feet. Ursula stifled her smile. No one in her family was a dullard. Obvious, but not idiots.
“Rachel and Lydia might want an audience.” She used her gentlest tone.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I thought,” he mumbled. He ran his fingers through his thick thatch of dark hair, just like her father’s, without the gray.
“We’ll play more, later.” She had to dig her nails into her fingers so she didn’t giggle.
Isaac hurried from the room like a spooked horse. She turned her attention back to the two remaining men in the parlor.
Hugo’s face was in his hands while Jay glared at everyone and no one, though mostly Hugo. The laughter vibrated within her. The man wasn’t infallible. Even he could be blind to things right in front of his face.
She brushed aside her skirts so they’d blanket the entire chaise when she sat, as if she perched on a mauve cloud. She crossed her ankles to the side.
“Ursula.” Hugo’s eyes were desperate and his face flushed. “We don’t have a great deal of time. My parents want me to propose at the Truitts’ party next week so they can throw one of their own to announce the engagement to Katherine. You must do something.”
“She’s been doing a great deal.” Jay leaned over the side of his chair to scowl at Hugo. “She’s gone to every party and has been proclaimed one of the most popular women of the season. The gossip columns have carried multiple stories, each lauding her charms and her dancing skills. She’s the most desirable woman in Philadelphia.”
“No, she’s half of the most desirable couple in Philadelphia. Not once has her name actually been mentioned, only yours.” Hugo spit each word. “Moreover, none of this has made a lick of difference to my parents.”
“Your parents are worthless fools.” Jay’s tone was venomous, his scowl now a glower.
If she’d been in Hugo’s shoes, she’d have quaked. Hugo was not so aware.
He gripped the carved edges of his chair and snapped back at Jay. “How dare you? If this wasn’t a false engagement you wouldn’t be so cavalier. I’m sure your mother and father are beside themselves with your names being connected, even if not specifically. I’ll bet there’ve been plenty of concerned friends and relatives paying your parents visits.”
He was going to take a stroll down that path, now was he? Interesting. Ursula pictured Mrs. Truitt in the garden with her sweets and dogs. How kind Jay’s mother was and how not once had she seemed the least bit disappointed in anything about her habits or background or—
“Because why, Hugo? Because I’m a Jew?”
His eyes widened. A pang, a stab hit just under her rib cage. It mattered to him, not just his parents. She’d decided what she wanted weeks ago, but the idea he, her oldest friend, saw that part of her, who she was, really, as a flaw, something to get past, hurt.
Hugo cleared his throat and tugged on his collar. “No, no. Ursula, no. It doesn’t matter to me how you were born or who your parents were. It makes things more difficult, yes, but I’m not the one who cares. It’s my parents. You just need to find a way to get them to see that despite that, it would be best for the family for me to marry you, not Katherine.”
He was giving orders now? He demanded marriage after calling her an embarrassment? Her blood heated.
“I’ve never heard a more romantic proposal nor reason for a wedding.” Ursula folded her arms.
“We’ve been over this before, Ursula. That’s why we made the pact. You’re my best friend. We’re suited to each other. There are some quirks of birth, yes, but I can get over them.” The sweat was back.
“How big of you.” She boiled from the inside out.
Did he not know how offensive that sounded? Especially, as she’d spent quite a bit of time and expense for his benefit. He’d done nothing but given her a few candies, appeared jealous, and oh, there were the kisses, but couldn’t he see those were a hindrance?
“So.” Jay cleared his throat. He addressed Hugo but locked eyes with her. “It appears, Mr. Middleton, you don’t, per se, want Miss Nunes to marry you. You merely want her to save you from marrying someone you don’t like. Additionally, to accomplish your, not her, ends, you need her, not you, to create and execute a plan that involves no effort on your own. Further, you shall never be forced to declare a preference for her to your family, or really do any work whatsoever.”
Her lip twitched, but she forced it down. Her heart swelled.
He was adorable. He was so upset for her, for her sake.
“Jay.” She said his name and his eyes flashed. She’d made him angry. She shouldn’t be amused, but the giggles were so near the surface. “Mr. Truitt, I’m sure Mr. Middleton is willing to lend some sort of assistance. I mean
, I know neither of our ideas are to his liking, so he must have some of his own.”
Ursula bit the inside of her cheek to suppress the bubbling, but there were tells. She met Jay’s eye and yes, he’d seen them.
Sparkling. That was the only way to describe how his eyes transformed, like her mother’s opals, or stars, if either could wink.
He knew.
The information sent a shiver through her body, one that lingered in a certain area. Her face grew hot and Jay stopped pretending.
Her face was probably the color of a tomato, but he was so darned pleased with himself. She should sock him, but instead other images would not let her be, the sort that were probably turning her skin an even deeper shade.
“I have ideas.” Hugo interrupted the moment.
Too late, she attempted to retract the huff as she turned towards him. “What sort of ideas, Hugo?”
“Yes, pray tell us.” Jay knit his fingers and winked at her.
Ursula rolled her eyes. He was so delightfully naughty, but this was not the time. Later. Hopefully.
“None that will work now.” Hugo stood and glared at both. “You’ve done enough and haven’t brought us any closer to the goal. If I had been consulted earlier, things could have been easier, better.”
“Oh yes, because you’re so good at standing up to your family.” Jay reclined further.
He’d kicked his long legs to the side, so they hung over the arm of her aunt and uncle’s silk floral chair. At least they’d chosen a red. White would’ve never survived.
What’d be his next move with Hugo, lift his leg and mark his territory like her aunt and uncle’s Mastiffs? There was a reason why she usually stuck to female pets.
Jay threw Hugo a smile that probably deserved a good smack, while Hugo only blinked though his face colored. Scarlet was not an attractive color on him either.
Too much maleness, enjoyable in its own way, but poor Hugo. He had really no idea. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Though watching Jay fight over her—no, bad Ursula, mustn’t do that. Besides, Jay’d need his energy later. Hopefully.
Ursula moved so she was in front of Hugo. “You’re my oldest, really first friend. You’re very dear to me and I’d do almost anything for you. I’d certainly give my life in battle. You helped me in so many ways over the years.”
She swallowed. Why did he need to look so earnest? “Hugo, you don’t want to marry me. Well, permit me to amend that. You don’t want to marry me except to prevent a worse option. That’s not an arrangement in which I’m willing to enter.”
Hugo gasped. “Ursula, I want you more than that. I enjoy you, enjoy your company—”
She held up her hand to stop him. “That’s not enough. You’ll learn. You’d grow dissatisfied.” She inhaled. “You don’t desire me, and I don’t desire you.”
Hugo opened his mouth.
“Trust me.” She closed her eyes again. “Desire isn’t the only thing that’s required for a good marriage and I’ve heard it can fade over time, but I think at least the memory of some sort of desire is necessary.”
Ursula drew in another breath through her nose. “Friendship is important and an excellent basis, but it can’t be the only basis. Well, I suppose it can, but I’d like more. Perhaps I’m foolish and reaching for something above my station. I do understand that I can’t actually purchase everything, which is disappointing.” She glanced at Jay. “Though life isn’t fair, it’s not transactional either. I’d like an opportunity for more, even if I’ve wasted an entire season and even if my reputation shall be in tatters.”
“You’d be unhappy with me? You no longer like me?” There was so much melancholy in Hugo’s tone. He stuck out his lower lip and her heart twisted until—oh—ick—the feel of that same lip against hers.
She shuddered. Forty or fifty years of that? Or more, forty or fifty years of never receiving anything like that moment on the chaise with Jay?
Ursula sighed. “I like you very much, Hugo. You shall always be my friend. I don’t long for you in the way a wife should, and I have a feeling that you don’t long for me as well.”
Or if you do, you have quite a great deal to learn about these sorts of things.
She glanced to the side. Why did Jay’s grin need to be so broad? Moreover, why did that make her want to push Hugo out the door and lock her cousins upstairs so she and Jay—no, bad Ursula, double bad.
As if Jay could read her mind, he smirked deeper and turned his head to the side, so neither she nor Hugo could see, though the floor vibrated.
“We promise you though, we, I won’t abandon you. You won’t have to marry Katherine. That I’ll fix. I have a plan. I’ll effectuate it at the Truitt party. Jay shall assist, and we will succeed.” She bit her lip.
I hope.
“You really have a plan?” Hugo clutched his hands, almost as if praying.
Jay covered his laughter with coughing. For goodness’ sake. They were both going to be the death of her. Men.
“Yes, I have a plan. I always have a plan and this one shall receive approval from Mr. Truitt.”
“But he’s—” He glared at Jay. “He’s not you and he’s not reliable.”
Tarnation, did she sound like that when she was whining? Someone should’ve stabbed her years ago.
“He’s very reliable and an excellent foil to me. The two of us, actually, work well together, as partners. You need to trust us, Hugo.” She rose and took his arm.
Jay signaled to the butler, who presented Hugo with his hat and umbrella.
“We’ll explain everything at the party, but I promise you, you shall not have to marry Katherine or me.”
Hugo opened his mouth, but the butler shut the door before he could use his vocal cords. The servant winked at Ursula before returning down the hall. She leaned against the frame, unable to stop the grin spreading on her face. Someone else could not stop smiling either.
“Bravo, Miss Nunes.”
“You enjoyed that?” She licked her lower lip as he scanned her body.
“One of the best conversations of my life, which is quite a feat since I hardly participated.”
She laughed and placed a hand on a hip. “See, you’ve taught me well.” She fiddled with her cameo. The light in his eyes as he dropped his eyes to that area—she smirked—she was doing it, creating it. She could do that to him, every time.
“How long?”
His question startled her. Jay’s eyes were serious as was his voice. He’d moved back to her face again.
“How long what?” she asked.
Jay took a step towards her and another, placing a hand around her waist. He tilted her chin, so her eyes locked with his.
“How long have you known that you weren’t going to marry Hugo?”
Ursula swallowed. He’d stopped fidgeting and, just stared, waiting, wanting. Should she? How much truth, how much could she, should she, reveal? She blinked. Couldn’t he give her a sign? The pressure wound in her chest. No, she could be brave. He needed her to be brave.
“Since the night you kissed me on the chaise at the party.”
His eyes grew wide and bright green, like ivy. For a moment they watered, even as a sly grin played on his lips. He traced a soft hand down her neck and she shivered.
“My kiss was that world altering?”
Yes.
Her body was on fire.
“I’m not sure.” She gasped instead of speaking the words. He placed a hand next to hers on the door.
“Not sure?”
Ursula leaned back and forced her lungs, mouth and brain to work. “You’ll have to do it again, so I can decide. I need to study it a bit further. Didn’t Lydia say my education was lacking in so many ways?”
Jay laughed but kept his body in place, pinning her with lust. “My bedroom or yours?”
Tha
nk God.
“Yours. Yours is farther away from...everything and everyone.”
He chuckled. Before she could say another word, Jay’s arm wrapped around her back. He slid his hand lower on her skirt, pushing the hoops against her body. In a deft move, he swept her into his arms and proceeded to carry her up the stairs.
Chapter Twenty-Four
For once, Jay floated without opium. It didn’t matter how many petticoats and hoops she wore or how tired he was from more sleepless nights than he cared to count—in his arms, Urs weighed nothing. Five flights of stairs was nothing as well, whether he paid for it the next day or not. He slid her on the bed and verified the door was locked. And bolted.
He returned to the brocade-covered fussiness that never gave him a moment’s rest and shook his head at the woman waiting for him, already working on her own disrobement. She was incredible. No one could ever accuse Urs of being lazy or unhelpful.
“You know I could assist you with that.”
“Can you?” Her voice was muffled beneath her dress.
Jay tugged the swath of silk.
Why did proper women have to wear so many clothes?
Fashion was becoming ridiculous.
“You’re going to have no more dresses if you keep trying to do this yourself.”
He created a deep violet puddle next to his dressing screen. The gown was a trifle though compared to the rest of the fabric barrier between them. So many undergarments.
“That’s why I came to you in my nightclothes last time.” Urs pouted her lips.
“The disadvantage of spontaneity.” He dropped kisses on her shoulders as he unlaced her corset.
The way Urs breathed and brushed back against him every time was all the encouragement he required. He’d never go fast or slow enough.
“Spontaneity is overrated.” Her voice was so cross he chuckled.
His fingers poked hers as she joined him to untie her petticoats.
“I don’t have any fear that my desire will wane after the hoops because these, and everything beneath, are delicious.” Jay dipped his fingers inside the ribboned edge of her drawers.
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