It was on an afternoon not long after that when Hannah lay listless in her bed, her hand resting atop a novel she could not bring herself to finish, a knock came at the door.
Curious, she sat up.
Mary usually had a much louder knock to ensure she wasn’t being ignored, as that had been a habit of Hannah’s as a girl when she’d been too preoccupied with play to pay proper attention. The quiet knock sounded again, and then, without her answer, the knob turned.
Who would enter her room without permission?
A woman with dark hair and a sarcastic smirk on her lips peeked in, saw Hannah and grinned.
“Lucy?”
She laughed quietly and glided into the room. “I knew you’d be in here. The others are downstairs asking your poor butler for various odds and ends in an attempt to occupy him from seeing me come up here.” Her mirth faded. “Why won’t you see us?”
Hannah shook her head. “I’m so very unhappy,” she confessed. “I know you all love me for my laughter and jests and how joyful I always am. To be so melancholy is too unappealing to make others endure. I could not subject you to that, not when I love you all so dearly.”
“Oh, Hannah.” Lucy sank onto the bed beside her and pushed a lank red curl back behind Hannah’s ear. “We love you in all the ways we can get you, whether it’s a smile we are sharing or a hurt we want to help soothe. Especially Amy—you do know that is what she lives for, to heal us all.”
Hannah chuckled lightly. “She truly is so nurturing.”
“It’s one of the many reasons why we cherish her. And if she were suddenly unable to help us, would that make us care for her any less?” Lucy raised her eyebrows.
“No,” Hannah immediately replied, almost offended by the notion. “Of course not.”
Lucy held out her hands, palm up in demonstration. “And nor would we want to shun your company if you weren’t happy. Come now, would I have dodged your butler to sneak up here if we weren’t truly worried about you?”
Hannah threw her a skeptical look.
“Very well.” Lucy sighed. “Perhaps, depending on the situation. But would Elizabeth have supported it? Or Amy, for that matter?”
“Fair point,” Hannah grudgingly admitted.
Lucy took Hannah’s arm and pulled gently. “Now, please join us downstairs before I have to add abduction to my list of crimes.”
With that, Hannah allowed herself to be encouraged from the bed and led down to the drawing room, where poor Jones shook his head before the other women. “But we don’t have blue silk umbrellas.”
He started as Hannah and Lucy entered.
“Thank you, Jones,” Hannah said to her frazzled butler. “I’m here now and can handle these hellions.”
He cast a severe look at Lucy, who merely smiled sweetly at him in a quiet reply.
When he left, Hannah’s friends rushed toward her, capturing her in the warmth of their embrace.
“Now, tell us what is amiss.” Amy’s soft brown eyes locked on Hannah’s.
“And don’t you dare say ‘nothing,’” Lucy warned.
“Because we can see right through you,” Jillian added.
Elizabeth curled her hand into Hannah’s. The gesture was one of support when Hannah needed it most.
“I’m afraid it’s a long story,” she bemoaned.
“We have a fresh teapot and enough cakes to keep Jillian happy,” Elizabeth said.
In response to this, Jillian leaned forward to capture the largest tea cake with the biggest dollop of frosting and nibbled it with a contented smile.
Hannah started at the beginning when she saw Lucien in the country, this time being entirely honest about their interaction and his appeal for her assistance in making him more fashionable.
“I knew it,” Lucy hissed. “No man with Lord Brightstone’s bookish ways immediately becomes a gentleman’s fashion plate over the course of a few months.”
“And why did he never consider you?” Elizabeth asked indignantly. “That would have been the ideal opportunity to inquire if you would allow yourself to be courted by him.”
“I’m afraid I told him I had no interest in marriage.” And so Hannah went on to confess how she truly had recalled their pact all those years ago at Lady Finch’s and how much she had cherished it in the hopes of never having to be hurt by rejection and disappointment.
For all the good that had done.
“If I’m being entirely honest, I was rather looking forward to having a manor with all of us together in the country.” Hannah smiled at her friends. “I could imagine Jillian working on her art, Elizabeth endlessly reading scores of books, Lucy filling the music room with the loveliest sounds, Amy baking decadent treats we would all enjoy.” Hannah gave a wistful smile. “It seemed the perfect plan. And far better than the awfulness of dealing with suitors.”
“Well, I’ll concede that it would be far better than this suitor business,” Jillian announced, doubtless at her limit from her marital pursuits through the last few years.
“But that isn’t all of it,” Hannah said miserably and told them about the ill-fated kisses. Her face burned with humiliation as she admitted how he had asked her to court him after her father had words with him. Of course, she also shared the poorly timed marriage proposal after their impassioned kiss that led to a smidge more. She did not elaborate on the “smidge more” with the maids likely listening in on the conversation on behalf of Lady Westwich.
“And he never approached you again?” Elizabeth asked in horror.
“He tried, but I refused to see him,” Hannah replied. “My father did instead, and I haven’t seen Lord Brightstone since. Well, except for at Lady Whimbly’s soirée, but we didn’t speak. I doubt Lady Alison would ever allow him to, even if he were so inclined.”
“But, Hannah,” Elizabeth said gently. “You cannot close your heart to the possibility of love.”
That familiar ache slammed into Hannah’s chest, and tears sprang to her eyes once more. “And who would love me?”
“We do.” Amy hugged her. “And if you open yourself to the possibility, I think you’ll find there are others who would be honored to fall deeply in love with you.”
Hannah drew in a pained breath. Her heart was still wounded, and the idea of placing it out there for someone else to step on was terrifying.
“Or you could set it all aside,” Lucy suggested.
Amy tilted her head in chastisement. Lucy, of course, ignored her. “Don’t think about love or men or Debrett’s or any such nonsense because that’s what it all is. Instead, think of how much you love dancing and seeing us at balls. Think of how much you love to dress up. And if nothing else, think about how much faster the season will go by with happiness rather than languishing about in your bed.”
“Lucy makes a very good point.” Jillian reached for Hannah’s hand. “Shrug it all off and enjoy your time with us.”
“That’s when romance happens usually,” Elizabeth added excitedly.
This time it was Lucy who shot the sharp, reproaching look.
But they were right. All of them, in their own ways. The days of lazing about in her bed made the season stretch on interminably, and it was only just beginning. There would still be months to endure.