Magic. He cast magic to lift her wish to the sky.
He squeezed her hand. “Wish.”
Her mind went blank. “I don’t know what to wish for.”
“You have more than one desire?”
“And choosing one closes the door on the other.”
“Then wish for a clear path,” Ianthe said.
Beatrice looked to the sky, finding the brightest star among them. She gathered her power and wove it around Ianthe’s, sending her wish to Heaven: Skyborn Gods, tell me how can I be happy when you have sent me this terrible choice? Who do I save: my family, or myself?
An hour ago, the only thing she wanted was magic. An hour ago, she didn’t know what it felt like to look at a man and have her heart leap. She’d never dreamed that she would capture the attention of such a highly placed gentleman, or that she would thrill to his attention, his politeness, his respect.
“What did you wish for?” Ianthe asked.
“That’s secret.”
He smiled. “So it is. Then what can I give you that will help you get it?”
:He’ll do it.:
:I know.:
“I can’t ask for it,” Beatrice said. “It’s indelicate.”
He moved closer. “Then give me the honor of keeping your secret. I must help you. It is my only wish. Be indelicate, Miss Clayborn. I’ll not breathe a word.”
:Kiss him.:
Young ladies didn’t kiss gentlemen. Not ever. Young ladies did not ask gentlemen to kiss them. They did not invite such intimacies. But everything depended on it.
“It’s a kiss,” she said.
“A kiss?” Ianthe asked. “That is the answer to your woes?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Then we should make it a good one. May I?”
He meant to kiss her. Beatrice’s breath stopped in her throat. Nadi pushed, and she nodded her head, stepping within the circle of his arms.
Ianthe looped an arm around her waist and pulled her in, kissing her so her senses blurred. He had anise on his tongue, and it blended with the sugar-butter-vanilla on hers, and the kiss flowed through her body like slow, glowing lightning.
Nadi reveled in it, singing in glee. The world spun around them, falling away until there was nothing but Ianthe holding her, kissing her, melding into her senses as she melted into his—and Ianthe’s kiss stole everything from her.
She couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t him. She couldn’t breathe without drinking him in. She pushed herself closer, forgetting starlight and dancing and the taste of cake on her lips. She gasped when he pulled his mouth away, half-dazed, her body suffused with feeling.
:Fortune is yours,: Nadi said. :Here she comes.:
Who? Beatrice pulled away just as footsteps sounded on the paving stones and Ysbeta Lavan rounded the corner, head high and gazing down her nose.
“I see you’ve found my brother.”
“Er. Yes.” Beatrice freed herself from Ianthe’s hold and fought the urge to pat her hair.
Ysbeta smiled for an instant. “I’m glad he found you. We were in such a rush to leave that neither of us remembered about our cards.”
That was a lie, but Beatrice smiled her forgiveness. “It’s lucky we found each other.”
“Indeed. I should like to speak to you tomorrow, if I may pay you a call?”
Ysbeta wanted to speak to her? “Yes. Please do.”
Beatrice reached inside her pocket and removed a card holder, producing one of the printed cards bearing her name and an invitation to call at her address.
“I should also like a card,” Ianthe said. “If you would welcome a visit.”
Beatrice turned her startled gaze to his face. “I—”
“Not tomorrow,” Ysbeta said. “I have reserved the first visit.”
“I could come with you.”
Ysbeta scowled. “I don’t want you to.”
Ianthe shrugged, the smile still on his lips. “Then I will attend the chapterhouse and make pleasant conversation until you are ready to return home. If I may ride into town with you?”
“I’ll allow it,” Ysbeta said. “Now let’s get out of here before another gentleman asks me to dance.”
Ianthe accepted Beatrice’s card with a bow, and then they walked away, Ysbeta’s words floating in the air behind them. “You shouldn’t kiss Chaslander girls, Ianthe. They take it too seriously.”
Ianthe’s reply drifted out of earshot. Beatrice waited for another count of one hundred and went in search of her mother. If Ysbeta was bringing the book back to her, then she wanted to be at her best.
“Why are we leaving so early?” Harriet thumped sulky heels against the carriage bench. “You couldn’t have danced more than once. We hadn’t finished visiting with Mother’s old friends. We should still be there!”
Nadi whimpered and shrank into a dense little ball in Beatrice’s stomach. Beatrice laid a hand on her stomacher and tried to soothe Nadi, but it couldn’t be comforted.
“No more Llanandari, please. I’m not feeling well,” Beatrice said. “And it’s not that early. It took me some time to find you.”
“But it’s not even midnight!”
“It will be in a few minutes,” Mother said. “Beatrice getting sick at the dance would have made an unpleasant impression.”
“Exactly,” Beatrice said. “Would you want me to cast up my last meal on the shoes of a gentleman?”
Harriet gave her a scornful look. “This is the most important night of the bargaining season. The most important! Did you talk to the matrons?”
:You could have stayed to dance,: Nadi said.
“There wasn’t time. I started feeling so strange, I needed fresh air.” Beatrice rubbed her upper arms, banishing the shivering tingles racing along her limbs. “I couldn’t stay another minute.”
She could still taste anise on her tongue. She could still smell marvelous rich cocoa and roses. She touched her lips, still plump from Ianthe’s kiss, and dropped her hand back in her lap before Mother noticed. Or worse—before Harriet noticed.
“Harriet, dear.” Mother tapped Harriet’s knee with her fan. “Beatrice isn’t feeling well. She said that. There will be another Assembly Dance in two weeks.”
“That’s too late!” Harriet wailed. “Your prospects depend on who you meet at the first Spring Assembly Dance. It’s the premiere of the season, your chance to meet everyone in town, and you’re going home early, without having met anyone.”
:We could have danced,: sighed Nadi. :One dance. One more kiss from beautiful Ianthe.:
“It was too much,” Beatrice said. “It’s so hot in the ballroom. It smelled like a perfume store and sweaty silk, and the elderflower punch made me dizzy.”
“That’s why you’re sick! There’s gin in it,” Harriet said, as if she were the one aged eighteen and Beatrice the fifteen-year-old child. “You’re only supposed to have one, to enhance your humor. Did you have more than one?”
“Yes.”
Harriet sighed dramatically. “I didn’t know you knew nothing about bargaining season. This is important. I won’t let you blunder. We can’t afford a second season if you fail.”