“Mira,” Bella said, her eyes on the carpet, “I…I suppose you must have gathered that I told Lord Jeremy about Maman and Papa deciding to fob you off as the Miss Mirabelle Fitzhenry to whom Lord Ashfield is engaged. But I think he already knew. He did not seem surprised. And, well, I also told him that you had never had a suitor before.”
Bella paused and flashed a quick glance at Mira. Her lovely eyes, the color of a cloudless spring sky, were puddled with tears.
“But, Mira,” she continued, a catch in her voice, “I swear to you that I did not mean to be unkind. I never mean to be unkind.” She looked up again, and her brow wrinkled in confusion. “It is only that I open my mouth, and unkind words rush out. I cannot seem to help myself. Honestly, no matter how hard I try.”
Mira doubted Bella tried very hard at all. But neither could she entirely blame Bella for her many thoughtless cruelties. After all, Bella had been weaned on Kitty Fitzhenry’s venom and tempered in the cold fire of Society’s brutality.
With Bella standing before her, looking so lost, so young, so distraught, the tension drained from Mira’s shoulders. “It is all right, Bella,” she said with a faint smile, “you only told the truth. And there should never be any shame in that.”
A flurry of emotions crossed Bella’s face, a rush of profound relief chased immediately by a look of desolation. She sank down onto the settee, buried her face in her hands, and began to sob.
Mira was alarmed. Bella sulked and yelled and pouted. She might even muster a delicate tear or two. She did not sob.
Quickly crossing to sit next to her cousin, Mira began making soothing sounds. “Here, now, dear-heart. Do not cry. Please, do not cry. Everything will be fine, I promise you.”
Without raising her face, Bella shook her head in vehement denial. “No,” she moaned, her words muffled by tears and her own hands. “No, everything will not be fine. Everything is a disaster!”
Mira patted Bella’s knee awkwardly. “Oh, Bella, whatever could be so horrible?”
Bella raised her head then, her face swollen and red from crying, her hair in disarray, her eyes blue wounds. “Mira,” she said, “I am in love.”
“Oh, dear,” Mira sighed. “Did you receive a letter from Mr. Penrose?”
“No, no, no. I am not in love with Mr. Penrose.”
“You are not?”
“No. I thought I was, but I did not even know what love was!” Bella’s voice rang with the fervor of her conviction. “Oh, Mira, I am in love with Mr. Jeremy Ellerby! And,” Bella smiled shyly, “and he is in love with me.”
Mira’s heart sank. “Bella, dear,” she said gently, “you cannot be in love with Mr. Ellerby, nor he with you. You have only just met.”
“So? You and Lord Ashfield have scarcely known each other longer than I have known Jeremy, and you two seem quite taken with each other.”
“Really?” Mira’s heart fluttered in her chest at the thought, but she forced her attention to Bella’s predicament. Mira took Bella’s hand in her own. “Bella, even if that is true, Lord Ashfield and I are much older than you and Mr. Ellerby. We have the advantages of maturity, we know our minds perhaps a bit better than you do.” She did not add that Jeremy was rumored to be turning into a rake to rival his father, or that his affections were fickle at best.
Bella pursed her lips. “Nonsense,” she said. “Jeremy is the same age as you. And I may be younger than you are, but I have certainly been out more in Society and I know more about men.”
Mira was struck dumb. Bella was correct. She had neatly turned Mira’s own logic against her. Mira had not realized that her cousin was capable of such rational argument.
“Well, then,” Mira said slowly, “let us assume that you and Mr. Ellerby are in love. What, pray tell, is the problem with that?”
Bella’s face crumpled again. “He does not have any money! Ashfield stands to inherit. Lord Blackwell is completely indifferent to Jeremy and has made no offer to establish some sort of livelihood for him. And Lady Beatrix does not have a great deal of money to pass on to Jeremy. He will only have an allowance, and even that will depend entirely upon Ashfield’s generosity. And Ashfield hates him.”