When Harry Met Molly

Behave—

And believe.

In her.

Slowly, he sank back down to the ground, worried. Not so much about losing the competition. He was more concerned about Molly’s own state of mind. Ever since the Christmas incident, she hadn’t been able to speak in public.

So why was she changing course? Putting herself in what for her must be a terrifying position?

He didn’t know. But he certainly couldn’t ask her now.

She folded her hands in front of her and looked out over the men’s heads toward the lake and the moon, where it had risen over the opposite shore.

“‘When we two parted,’” she began. “‘In silence and tears…’”

Her voice quavered—not a good start for her—and Harry’s stomach clenched. But he forced himself to smile at her in support.

“‘Half broken-hearted,’” she said. “‘To sever for years…’” She didn’t seem to notice him or anyone else at all.

“‘Pale grew thy cheek and cold,’” she struggled on. “‘Colder than thy kiss.’”

She was twisting her hands now, and he began to sweat. But then she took a breath: “‘Truly that hour foretold sorrow to this.’”

Thank God. She’d made it through a whole verse, with little pause. Harry forced himself to sprawl on the blanket and listen to her start the next verse as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But he was seriously agitated. She might know the words, but she must relax more—put more feeling into the lines—if she were to charm his fellow Impossible Bachelors.

Then again, this particular poem wasn’t one he’d have chosen to charm anyone, especially careless gentlemen. It was sad, after all. About two lovers parting ways—

Harry closed his eyes. Tried not to think.

Oh, God.

Two lovers.

Parting ways.

“‘The dew of the morning,’” she said with more strength now. “‘Sunk chill on my brow. It felt like a warning of what I feel now.’”

When he opened his eyes again, she was looking directly at him. Not at the lake. Not at anyone else. And it was as if she’d woken from a long slumber. Her eyes were expressive now, not distant. And her mouth, too. It was soft. Vulnerable.

By God, the words tumbled out of her, one by one, monuments each to something big and true and… aching inside of her. Harry couldn’t stop listening, as much as he wanted to. And neither, apparently, could the other bachelors.

There was another verse—and more agonizing truth spilling from her whole being. She was talking about him, wasn’t she? About loving him. And having to separate from him.

Him.

Harry swallowed hard. He saw Arrow cast a glance in his direction. And then Lumley and Maxwell and Bell. He sensed the mistresses were probably staring at him, as well.

“‘In secret we met—’” Molly said, as earnest and open as a flower. “‘In silence I grieve, that thy heart could forget, thy spirit deceive.’”

A gust of wind blew off the lake and shook the torch flames.

Molly was looking at her entire audience now. And it seemed as if it were composed of more than the bachelors and the mistresses…it was the very stars and moon above her head. The trees leaning in. The crickets chirping softly in time with the cadence of her words.

“‘If I should meet thee, After long years.’” She swallowed hard. “‘How should I greet thee?’”

“‘With silence,’” she eventually whispered, “‘and tears.’”

Harry couldn’t move, even as the other bachelors began clapping for Molly—all of them but Sir Richard, of course. He sat sulking.

“She’s something,” Lumley called to Harry above the sound of the clapping and whistling.

“You’re a lucky man,” Arrow leaned over to say.

“I know it.” Harry could barely utter the words.

He tensed his jaw to keep from showing any emotion. He felt too many. And they threatened to overwhelm him. So he began to clap—

For Molly.

When she finally looked up from her slippers, out at him and the other Impossible Bachelors, a soft smile played about her lips. A smile of triumph, of pride.

Not of sorrow.

The other mistresses came and hugged her close.

“We did it,” Harry heard Molly say to them. “We all did it.”

And they all began to laugh and talk at once.

They don’t need us as much as we need them. Prinny’s words echoed in Harry’s mind as he uncorked his flask and found it empty.

Lumley tossed him his.

“Thanks.” The brandy burned a hot trail down Harry’s throat, and he wiped his mouth. “Let’s get the votes counted,” he said perfunctorily and tossed the flask back to Lumley.

Harry decided then and there he wouldn’t try to understand. Anything. He simply needed to make it through this night. And get back to the life he had before this week began—a life that seemed far away and rather pathetic, but was most certainly easier to live.

Chapter 38

Molly walked with the other women to the log she and Harry had sat on so recently, and she felt a wisp of loneliness curl in her belly.

She and Harry would never sit on this log together again.

In a few moments, she’d find out if she had won the Most Delectable Companion contest. If so, Harry would win another year of freedom. If not, he’d be among those bachelors forced to pull straws, one of whom would find out tonight if he was to get legshackled to a woman of his club’s choosing.

“How will you feel,” said Molly to the other mistresses when she sat down, “if your bachelor is the one forced to marry?”

Bunny squeezed in next to her. “You know I wouldn’t care. I shall be leaving him anyway.”

“Really?” Athena was astounded. And so it seemed were Joan and Hildur.

Bunny nodded. “Yes. I was on the verge of telling Delilah earlier that I’ve a friend I can stay with in London. She’s an assistant to a seamstress with a thriving business. I think she might be able to get me work.”

Molly hugged her. “That would be too, too wonderful!”

Bunny smiled. “You inspired me, Delilah. Thank you for believing in me.”

“The truth is, ladies,” said Athena, “whether or not Maxwell draws the short straw, we shall soon part ways. He’s not the sort to stay with one woman for long. And my career as an actress is providing me with sufficient income to live comfortably. I shall no longer require a protector.”

“That’s marvelous!” Molly said, and everyone clapped.

“Perhaps I can help with your costumes?” Bunny asked Athena. “And your gowns, as well, if you’d like.”

Athena smiled and tossed her hair. “You must come to Drury Lane to visit me at your earliest convenience.”

When it came to Joan’s turn, she chuckled. “I have great affection for Lumley, of course. Who wouldn’t?”