"The wedding ceremony was lovely," Mabel lied to Miss Carter, dipping her head. Both lying and head-dipping were becoming unattractive habits, but she couldn't help it. The yesterday's wedding was the worst day of her life, even with all the terrible things that had befallen her lately.

Beautiful in white, Hazel glowed, then looked as modest as could be wished for in a virginal bride. Every fold of her dress, every flower she caressed, every smile she gave said that she was entering the holy matrimony with joy and willingness. It was as if she had never spoken with disdain about marrying beneath her or gave away her maidenhead.

Mr. Aldington couldn't stay solemn for happiness. It broke through his reticent nature like sunlight through the forest boughs. It tormented Mabel. She was lying to him. She was lying in the house of God. Worse, the besotted gleam in Mr. Aldington's eyes reminded her of the gleam in Everett's eyes when he mocked her. When he had just sampled Mr. Aldington's perfect bride.

She couldn't forget. Sweat coated her armpits even in the coolness of the parish church. The spacious building of old sandstone, smelling comfortingly of melted wax, didn't hold enough air to refill her lungs. Everett kissed her. He kissed her right after he had lain with her sister. He was incestous, he was sinful and his lips had tasted hers. She rolled her eyes up to keep the tears from flowing and the church from spinning. She couldn't forget.

All she wanted was to drop into Miss Carter's arms and confess everything. To weep over her damned soul, because despite her remorse, she still wanted to be Hazel. Oh, how she wanted to be uncommonly pretty for just one day! How she wanted to get from men exactly what she desired. Alas, throwing her heart open would lose her Hazel's sisterhood and Miss Carter's respect.

So, instead of crying, she laughed, telling Miss Carter how Dr. Berkshire interpreted her tearful gaze in the wrongest way possible (while concealing what caused them, of course).

She described the wedding breakfast, without omitting a single item from the panoply served, then tried to imitate the man's pompous expression.

"Miss Walton." She squinted to remember what he had said word for word. "Miss Walton, you appear to be in a melancholy and on such a joyous occasion as today! I beg of you to open your eyes to those who would divert you from it."

And she straightened her shoulders just like he did, so much so that her bosom bulged forward.

Miss Carter—Harriet, as she had asked Mabel to call her—laughed uproariously. "How deliciously awkward!"

Amelia smiled wanly from her chair. A basket of yarn replaced the kitten in her lap. She was rewinding the balls to give thread desired thickness.

"I didn't know what to say after that, my dear Harriet, so I just ate the wedding cake, like I haven't eaten in weeks," Mabel said.

"This doesn't fall far from the truth, for you have a miser's appetite lately," Harriet chided.

She squeezed her eyes just for a split moment, trying to forget. They wanted her to eat and be jolly. "Alas, the delicious cake, dusted with sugar and full of raisins, tasted like cockroaches after Dr. Berkshire's speeches. Now I feel like a terrible fool for missing out on the flavours."

"I believe we can help this," Harriet exclaimed, pushing the plate with tarts toward Mabel.

She studied the wonderfully browned tarts. "And my maid nearly fainted trying to lace my corset this morning to add to my grief." They also wanted her to have a tiny waist.

"Then find a stronger maid." Miss Carter dismissed her complaint with a wave of her hand. "As for your other misfortune... There is one prospect that I wish to discuss with you before bringing it forth to your parents."

Mabel picked the smallest tart and chewed its corner. "Mgm, this tastes divine." Then she remembered how Everett complimented the cook, and the sweet dough turned to sawdust in her mouth. If it wasn't Dr. Berkshire, it was Everett! Any more suitors, and she'd never enjoy her pudding again.

"You've mentioned that you were not opposed to employment," Miss Carter said in the meantime. "I've learned of a position that could suit you—"

Breath caught in her throat as Everett's voice echoed in her head, predicting that she would travel to London through Radcliffe's scheming. "What... what is this situation?"

Miss Carter's eyes crinkled. "I couldn't wait to tell you! You see, Mrs. Williams, who had been with Lady Catherine almost since her husband's death, had received a small inheritance. She also doesn't wish to leave our native shores..." She stopped her excited tirade and glanced at Mabel with a snort of laughter. "Oh, dear, I must be confounding you... Lady Catherine is of course our dear Lady Catherine Chesterton--"

"Lady Chesterton?"

"Why, yes. That's what I have said. She wishes to engage a companion."

"To live in London?"

"In London, and to travel. With the recent peace on the continent, it's not so risky any longer. Apparently, the mineral springs in Baden-Baden would be marvelous for her stones. If you are agreeable to that—"

An escape to London and travel to the continent! This was the kind of triumph over Hazel Mabel couldn't have even dreamed of yesterday, swallowing raisins to avoid the conversation with Dr. Berkshire. It didn't feel underhanded, like opening Mr. Aldington's eyes would have been.

"Yes! Yes!" She cut her shouts with a dismayed groan. Everett had predicted it. Not only predicted, he warned her about hidden dangers of Chesterton's household. However, the amicable Lady Catherine conspiring with her rakish son—or her other son, if she believed Everett... She groaned again. It made no sense.

"Surely, you aren't afraid to travel to the continent, my dear?" Harriet prompted, after the pause stretched too long. "I imagined you to be adventurous."

"I am." Too much so, alas. Mabel stumbled, unable to reveal her true thoughts about this matter. The farther she stayed from Everett, the better. Perhaps Radcliffe as well, though she had nothing against him but Everett's vague accusations.

Harriet cleared her throat delicately. "Everett Chesterton is not living at the house, if this in any way affects your decision. The family decided it was better for him to keep a separate household."

Her face might have as well been a journal for the ease with which people read her innermost worries. But that aside, this changed the matters. Without Everett, she would have only Radcliffe to worry about, and try as she might, she didn't fear him. She was even curious to see Radcliffe. The last time you wanted to see a man... She exhaled, as if she could pour all her frustration into one sigh and send it away. Radcliffe was cordial, noble, reserved. He would never menace her the way Everett did. Never kiss her out of the blue.

"Yes! Yes, I would love to!"

Surely, it were better if she'd never met either Chesterton boy, but... But she wanted away from Lancashire, from her broken heart, Dr. Berkshire, Hazel's mischief, and even her parents.

Harriet clapped like a girl. "Do you hear that, Amelia? Our girl wants the position."

Amelia smiled, like she smiled at everything Harriet did. "Those are a woman's words, not a girl's."

"Right you are! And it will be the most convenient, Mabel. For I have decided to brave London this season for the sake of the opera, so you can travel with me."

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much, dear Harriet!"

She went to embrace her friend, eyes glistening with tears.

Now only a 'trifle' matter of convincing her parents remained. Mabel chewed her lips all the way home so much that Miss Carter and Amelia each took one of her hands to offer comfort. As awkward as it was in the rocking carriage, her chest warmed up. She could do it.

Mr. Walton bristled at the mere mention of it. "You ask if Mabel should saunter off to London, to wait on the Chestertons? That's an absolute disgrace. I wouldn't have it."

Mrs. Walton's face pinched.

"Lady Catherine," Harriet slipped in, "will introduce Mabel into the best houses in London."

"As a servant," Mr. Walton scoffed. "If she wishes to apply herself to a useful service, rather than fill her head with tales, she very well could play a governess to Edward and Hugh."

The conversation was playing out exactly how Mabel feared it would go. "Father, a companion is not a servant," she whispered. Harriette's fingers pinched her elbow.

"Horse feathers!" her mother declared and straightened, folding her arms under her bosom.

Mabel made herself as small as possible, anticipating Jove's thunder. "Wait," Harriette breathed into her ear.

"A governess for Hugh and Edward? What a splendid idea, Edmund! How do you imagine she should chase after the boys? They need a man's firm hand to keep them in check."

Mr. Walton opened his mouth and closed it, when Mrs. Walton's eyes flashed dangerously.

"And how wonderful it would be when the Pelhams and the Browns and the Malcolms and the rest of our good neighbors come to commissariate with us that our fortunes fell so low, we have not the means to retain a decent governor for our sons!"

Her father's already ruddy cheeks darkened. Even a spongy nose acquired a fine rose tint. Apparently, he recovered enough to form a complete sentence. "Darling, I merely do not want our daughter to enter service. She is well cared for here."

Mrs. Walton showed no sign of buckling at the knees and calling for salts. The maid peeked around the corner inquiringly, but hid again with a mousey squick.

"You are right again!" Mrs. Walton exclaimed, waving beringed hands through the air as if she was chasing away horseflies. "Heavens forfend Mabel finds a good fortune in London! It would be so much better for her to waste her life away here, with a dearth of options rather than to enter the brilliant society there."

The apoplectic fit was not far off, judging from her father's complexion. "The society of London is not the kindest to the employed girls from the countryside. The worthies won't be lining up for her hand, I assure you."

Mrs. Walton guffawed. "When here, Mabel is swatting the suitable men aside like summer flies."

"She has prospects. And I did not hold in high regard how the younger Chesterton left without a good-buy or anything civil." Sure, he had missed Everett ravishing both of his daughters, but now stood firm guarding the family's honour.

Mrs. Walton blew out a loud sigh. "Indeed, after such a grave offence, why take a chance on Chestertons, if we can keep her for the rest of our natural lives, then burden Hugh with providing her livelihood? An unwed and unhappy daughter is a delight to all."

Mabel could only gape with her mouth hanging open in the most unbecoming fashion. When put so candidly, her life appeared dismal indeed if she didn't immediately go to London.

Mr. Walton lifted himself out of his chair to confront her mother's arguments, but Mabel's head spun with a premonition of victory. No matter what obstacles and concerns he conjured, they all paled next to the waft of the marital prospects her mother sniffed in the air.

Mabel took a staggering step back to clear the battlefield for the Titans, as Mr. and Mrs. Walton faced each other across the living room, their complexion changing colour between purple, red, pink and white, much like watercolours of lush sunsets.

Harriette's fingers brushed her wrists. "Do not fret, everything is going to work out fabulously."

When Mabel finally regained her ability to speak, she gazed at her friend with admiration. She could have kissed the woman, if Amelia didn't pout. "You are right, you are completely right!"

Her mother shot them an eviscerating glance, calling for them to keep quiet and let the adults do the talking. It only jittered her into a fit of giggles. Harriette's shoulders shook from suppressed laughter.

They retreated to the farthest corner of the room.

"Oh, Mother dearest! Please never change," Mabel whispered en route.

"I lost my mother at an early age," Harriette replied, "but my grandmother was of the same mold. She had never abandoned a hope to see me properly wed, not till her dying day, God rest her soul. Even after... nevermind..."

Amelia's eyes softened. "It's all in the past, Harriette. Let it go."

"Yes, yes... we must only think of the future, and your future will be wonderful, Mabel!" An infectious smile played on her lips with a sincere enthusiasm. "Oh, I almost envy you. To be twenty and go to London and to the continent! You'll love it!"

"Let us not mention the continent to Mother yet," Mabel said judiciously. "Or at all."

Harriette's dark and Amelia's red-golden heads nodded in unison.

It was a delicious little conspiracy, and Mabel barely felt guilty about concealing things from her mother. After all, as Harriette had pointed out, she didn't abandon hopes for a suitable marriage for Mabel. She simply replaced Dr. Berkshire with a better catch in London. So, Mabel shouldn't destroy her hopes; only beg forgiveness for a disappointment in the future. Far, far away in the future.

"Thank you, Harriette, thank you!"

She felt ready to dance the cursed waltz all the way to London, she wanted it so much. Her mother's expectations and Everett's dire warnings be damned! The thought of Everett needled her heart with the familiar prick of pain, but she ignored it. London awaited her, and her fate had changed forever. 

Everett, pooh! He could travel to Hades and take his gripe against Radcliffe with him.