Page 48 of Her Scandalous Pursuit

“Desmond jilted her,” Kyria said.

“Kyria!” Olivia glared at her older sister. “Don’t say that. He did not. They aren’t even engaged. He just—”

“He just said that he wouldn’t see me anymore,” Thisbe revealed.

“But why? He seemed such a nice young man—that nanny he recommended has been a godsend,” Emmeline said. “Why would he break it off with you like that?”

“Because of Grandmother.” Thisbe sent a baleful glance at the dowager duchess.

Emmeline swung toward Cornelia. “What did you do?”

“No, she didn’t do anything,” Thisbe quickly explained. “It wasn’t anything new. It’s just... Desmond believes what Grandmother told us.”

“Well.” Cornelia rapped her cane sharply against the floor. “Good. The boy has more sense than I thought.”

“He believes in Grandmother’s ghosts and goblins?” Kyria asked in astonishment.

“Don’t be impertinent, young lady,” the dowager duchess snapped. “I don’t believe in goblins. The spirits of the dead, however, are very real. The fact that you haven’t the ability to see them does not alter that fact.” Cornelia nodded toward Olivia. “Olivia would understand if she would only stop hiding from it.”

Thisbe sighed. “He says he can’t dismiss your warning. Apparently his aunt filled his head with nonsense about a birthmark on his back that she says is the mark of death.”

“I knew it!” their grandmother said triumphantly. “I saw death clinging to him.”

“And he thinks he saw his sister’s spirit after he died.”

“Really?” Olivia’s eyes widened.

“I’m certain it was only a dream,” Thisbe said. “I’m not sure he fully believes Grandmother’s prophecy himself. But he says that if there’s any possibility of danger to me, he must avoid it.”

“Quite right.” Her grandmother came over to pat Thisbe on the shoulder. “It will be all right, child. You’ll see. The man did exactly as he should. I am rather impressed by him.”

“I’m not,” Emmeline said. “I don’t know when I’ve been more mistaken about a person’s character. I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.” She paused. “Thank goodness Theo went to Bristol yesterday.”

“Yes,” Thisbe said with conviction. If Theo had been here, he would probably have gone storming off to thrash Desmond.

“The point is—” the dowager duchess retook the conversational reins “—Thisbe is young, and this was only a brief infatuation. You’ll forget about this Harson fellow.”

“Harrison,” Thisbe corrected, unsure why she bothered.

Cornelia ignored Thisbe’s interjection. “There are any number of young men in the world who are much more suitable partners for you. This is all the more reason for you to have a Season.”

“Grandmother...I don’t want a Season.”

“Not the whole Season,” Kyria agreed, sitting down on the other side of Thisbe. “That would drive you mad. But you should attend a party or two. It would do you good to get out—the worst thing one can do is sit around moping over a boy. There’s a ball next week at the Throckmorton house—you should come with us.”

“Indeed.” The dowager duchess nodded. “An excellent idea, Kyria. Thank goodness you have some social sense.”

“They have a point,” Emmeline said.

“Not you, too.” Thisbe sent her mother a horrified look.

Her mother patted Thisbe’s knee. “In general, I think balls and such are a waste of time, but Kyria is right. A party might be exactly the thing to help you forget your troubles for a while.”

“Going to a ball and partaking in insipid conversation will not make me forget Desmond.”

“No, but your irritation at the insipid conversation might take your mind off him,” Kyria quipped, and Thisbe had to laugh despite the pain in her chest.

“Come.” Kyria took Thisbe’s hand and tugged. “We’ll ask Cook to make us some hot chocolate, and we’ll gossip and try on frocks.”