Definitely Not Mr. Darcy

Chloe turned, and saw Henry playing with one of Mrs. Crescent’s older boys. Which one was Wil iam? Mrs. Crescent hugged two of her littler ones, and they patted her pregnant bel y. Henry gathered the boys around him and showed them the jar with the butterfly in it. They al looked, even the oldest one, wide-eyed, with tiny hands on the jar. Chloe thought only of Abigail. She would’ve enjoyed al this.

Henry held up the jar, pul ed off the cheesecloth, and the butterfly flew up and around the boys, who clapped and jumped up and down.

The boys hung on to Henry, laughing and smiling, and Chloe got butterflies in her stomach. He was so good with kids. And, she couldn’t help but think, he would be good with Abigail, too.

The dressmaker tugged on Chloe’s gown to get her attention. “Would you like a Greek-key trim or tattered lace?” Chloe tried to focus on the two snippets of trim the seamstress handed her. “Oh. Um. Greek key.”

“Turn, please.”

Chloe turned again and this time she saw herself in the ful -length gilded mirror. The peach-colored silk gown glimmered in the summer sun that streamed through the windows. Was it just the light or did she lose about ten pounds? For the first time ever, she wanted to hop on a scale. Even with the glasses, she looked—like a lady.

Henry had a toddler in his lap and he was reading aloud from one of the children’s books. A wave of warmth washed over her.

“You have lost inches since I was here last, Miss Parker.”

Chloe heard the dressmaker, but she sounded far away, as if she were in another room.

Grace, in her low-cut white gown, sauntered over behind Henry and put her arm around his chair as he continued to read. She seemed to be reading it aloud with him to the boys. Henry looked up at Grace and smiled as they mouthed the words together.

Chloe’s fingers clenched like claws. Et tu, Henry? Wait a nineteenth-century minute. She was getting jealous over—Henry.

Then Julia romped onto the parterre and set up the ring toss for the boys, and the boys left Henry and Grace alone with the book.

“Miss Parker?” A gorgeous footman, maybe even Grace’s most recent conquest, held out a silver salver with a handmade envelope on it addressed to her. Chloe picked up the thick note and the footman bowed and left. It was sealed with a red wax W.

“Now for your pelisse, Miss Parker.” The dressmaker held out the thin, floor-length tailored jacket for alterations. Chloe broke the seal and opened the note.

Dear Miss Parker,

I am hoping to see you at the upcoming ball. If you come to the ball, I would like to meet you at the ice house just past the stables after the last dance. I have something to ask you, so please arrive alone. Hoping you do not disappoint.

Yours,

Mr. Wrightman

Even with the tight-sleeved pelisse covering her arms, she got goose bumps. Of course, meeting Sebastian at the ice house alone would be against the rules, but it sounded like he was going to propose. He had something to ask her!

But didn’t most Regency proposals take place in the daytime? In a parlor or drawing room, after al the sisters and nosy mothers had been whisked away? At least, that was what happened in the novels and costume dramas. This meeting had to be aboveboard. Sebastian wouldn’t jeopardize her position on the show, would he?

Chloe repeated the poem again in her mind. She stil couldn’t decipher it.

As the mantua-maker cuffed the sleeves of the shimmery silk pelisse, Chloe watched Grace, Julia, and Henry play “London Bridge Is Fal ing Down” with the littlest boys. She could see them mouth the words: “Fal ing down. Fal ing down. London Bridge is fal ing down. My fair lady.”

That was the problem with wearing glasses. You began to see things clearly.

Chapter 18

L adies, there are two invitations and three of you,” said the butler in the music room at Bridesbridge on Friday evening. The women had displayed their talents on the musical instrument of their choice. Grace played the harp, as it was the most expensive instrument, and it accentuated her higher-class status. Not to mention the fact that harp players had the added bonus of being able to flash some ankle while they performed. Julia played a complicated Regency piece on the pianoforte. Chloe attempted a Mozart selection on the pianoforte—one that she’d played at a Christmas piano recital when she was twelve.

Grace and Julia garnered fifteen Accomplishment Points while Chloe earned five for effort.

She had to admit to herself that some time-management software might’ve come in handy for such ongoing projects as the piano practicing, the needlework, and remembering to shake her vial of ink three times a day.

Chloe stood between Grace and Julia, who tapped her toe on the Aubusson carpet. Grace feigned a yawn. Chloe felt flushed and fanned herself.

Mrs. Crescent, who lounged in a green tufted Grecian couch, looked down at Fifi and petted him.

The butler looked straight into the cameras. “Before we proceed, I would like to remind Mr. Wrightman that Miss Tripp has ninety Accomplishment Points, Lady Grace seventy, and Miss Parker forty-five. Mr. Wrightman has to take into account that Miss Parker failed to finish her needlework task even after a request to extend the deadline was granted.”

Chloe felt the sting of that failure and she real y cringed to know that the public announcement of it was being