A Chaotic Courtship (Rough Draft)

Chapter Six

"So, when were you going to tell me?"

We were getting ready for bed, at the same time for once. The evening had passed pleasantly. Mr. Richfield had made himself agreeable to everyone, which was no small feat considering there were so many of us. Sighing, I set my hairbrush down and twisted away from the dressing table to face her. There was no sign of any anger or resentment in her face. Still, I hesitated to tell her the whole story. "It's only a possibility," I finally said, beginning to braid my hair. "When he hinted at asking for Father's permission, I was startled. I didn't give a definite answer."

"Well, that was stupid," Sarah said, hugging her pillow to her chest. "It's not like there is an abundance of eligible young men in the neighborhood for us to choose from."

While there was a great deal of truth in her words, I was still annoyed by her attitude. "What kind of marriage would I have if I accepted a man I hardly knew?" I flinched as I pulled too hard on my hair. "Look at how unhappy Mother's sister, Aunt Benson, is. Would you have me in the same position?"

"Aunt Benson married beneath her station. It's hardly relevant, and scarcely the same situation." Sarah frowned at me. "Did London make you sentimental, Diana? Are you truly hoping for a love match?"

"Our parents had a love match. I think I would rather be a spinster like Great-Aunt Forester than be trapped in an unhappy marriage." Hesitating for a moment, I decided I had nothing to lose if I was completely honest with her. "All I ask is to marry someone I can respect."

Sarah heaved a sigh. "Mr. Richfield appears to be a respectable man. He would have been a good choice, I think, Diana."

"'Would have been?' It's not quite as dismal as you are implying, Sarah. I have been informed, from the best authority possible, Mr. Richfield still wishes to pursue a match between him and myself."

"I hope, for your sake, you were correctly informed," Sarah said, looking and sounding doubtful. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the head of the bed. "It's been a long time since we had a late night chat like this."

"Nearly three months."

"I've missed it. And you."

That made me laugh, though I was careful to keep it soft. I wouldn't want to have Will complaining in the morning. "You missed me so much you choose to pick a fight with me minutes after I arrived?"

Sarah shrugged. "It's not my fault you bring out the worst in me."

I finished my braid and stood up, blowing out the candle. Cautiously, I made my way around to my side of the bed. When I tripped over some article of my sister's clothing, I caught myself on the bedpost. "What are you doing? Trying to wake everyone else up?" Sarah asked.

Reluctant to start another argument, I bit back the sharp response that came first to my mind. I followed the side of the bed to the headboard and pushed the blankets aside. "What have you and Miss Sandwood been up to while I was away? Mother told me you'd been over there nearly every day."

"Charlotte and I are the best of friends now," Sarah said, her voice happy in the dark. She hummed a note. "What are the girls like in London?"

"Silly and self-absorbed. And each one of them desires to gossip about everyone else. I never found anyone with whom I could hold a serious conversation—besides Mr. Richfield, I mean."

"Mr. Richfield." She heaved a loud sigh.

Now was as good a time as any to ask what she'd been thinking at dinner. "Sarah, when we were talking about the highwayman earlier," I said, still trying to figure out the best way to put my question. "I had the feeling you had something on your mind."