“Aren’t you going to read the letter?” Blythe tipped onto her toes, trying once more to look over Signa’s shoulder. “If you’ve won the prince’s favor then you must respond!”
Signa bit back her groan as she tore the envelope open, angling her body away from Blythe, who further encroached by the second. Signa didn’t want to know what Fate had to say, but she didn’t doubt that he would realize what she’d done if she simply threw the letter into the hearth. And blast it if she wasn’t a little curious herself.
With fretting fingers, Signa pried the slip of parchment within it free. There was but a simple sentence written in elegant script:
Give me the chance, and I shall show you that I am not the villain here, Miss Farrow.
Signa felt faint.
“What does it say?” Blythe asked as Signa tucked the note against her chest and out of sight.
“Nothing. It’s only a note to thank me for dancing with him.”
There was a tart pucker to Blythe’s lips. “I danced with him, too. Let me see that—”
Signa dodged out of the way when Blythe made to grab the letter, then recalled what Elijah had done with his slip of paper back in the prison cell and crumbled it. When Blythe extended her palm expectantly, Signa popped the paper into her mouth.
Only, it was much thicker than the small slip of paper she’d brought Elijah, and she choked.
Blythe’s mouth hung ajar. “What on earth are you thinking?” With or without the letter preventing her from speaking, Signa couldn’t respond.
Fortunately, there was no need, as she was rescued by a knock upon the door and Elaine hurrying inside a moment later.
“Miss Farrow!” cried the maid. “You must ready yourself at once!”
“What is it, Elaine?” It was Blythe who asked, allowing Signa a moment to spit out the wad of parchment and scrub her tongue clean. She hurried to rip the damp paper and toss its remains into her wastebasket when no one was looking. “Has something happened?”
“He’s here, miss.” Elaine’s voice quaked with anticipation, and Signa’s blood froze as she prayed that the woman meant Elijah. Perhaps Fate’s letter meant that he’d decided to help them after all. But then Elaine continued, “Everett Wakefield is here to see you. Mr. Hawthorne is with him in the parlor.”
Blythe made a noise of appreciation in the back of her throat. “First the prince and now the duke. Someone had an eventful evening.”
Signa slumped back in her chair. “Lord Wakefield is here to see me? But I’m not receiving today.” The words sounded absurd even to her own ears, for surely he wouldn’t be calling on her without good reason given all that was going on, especially not at such an early hour. Still, curiosity had Signa back on her feet, knocking Blythe gently on the shoulder when she noticed her smug grin. “Very well. We mustn’t keep him waiting.”
Elaine hurried to help Signa out of her dressing gown and into a beautiful cream housedress with a high neckline and long sleeves adorned with lace around the wrists. Signa quickly pulled on her gloves herself, cognizant of how Elaine fussed, ensuring that every strand of hair was in place. It felt ridiculous for anyone to be concerned with her appearance when Everett’s father had recently died, but she didn’t argue.
“It seems like you made quite the impression on the prince,” Elaine said. “You should see all the arrangements he’s sent for you.”
Good God, there were more.
Blythe swept the hem of her nightgown into the air, bowing low. “Shall I curtsy when I address you from now on, cousin? I wouldn’t want to offend a princess.”
“Since when has a title stopped you from offending anyone?” Signa’s words cut off in a gasp as Elaine tightened the laces of her corset so severely that Signa worried her ribs might crack. Readying oneself in the morning truly was an arduous affair, and by the time she was dressed and ready, Elaine was sweating and Signa was breathless and a little sore, while Blythe watched from a chair in the corner.
“Did Lord Wakefield give any word of why he is here?” Signa asked as she slipped into her shoes, already starting out the door.
Elaine followed behind her. She was shorter than Signa and had to hustle to keep up. “Only that he came to speak with you.”
Signa had wondered every day for the past two weeks how Everett was faring. Unlike his cousin Eliza, he’d kept a low profile, never once leaving his estate. If he had, Signa would have heard the gossip. So why was it that the first time he left, he’d chosen to come to Thorn Grove of all places?