Perception ✔

17 Risks & Calculation

Gathered in my study, two of my daughters gasped. Poppy even hurried to use her handkerchief when taking the invitation letter.

She let out a squeal but immediately countered it when she remembered herself.

Her eyes set on mine, she begged.

I would never deny her. I wanted to remind her that the chances were slim. We had nothing regal with which to stand apart from other guests—I refused to use Edmond a second time.

But she looked happy and I was, therefore, happy for her.

The excited chatter died away when Poppy's eyes settled on Cinderella.

Cinderella did not return anyone's gaze. Instead, she stared forward and declared, "I do not want to go."

Only Edmond seemed concerned. He opened his mouth to say something, but the cook put her hand on his arm and affirmed, "If that's your choice."

And then Edmond looked at me and I returned his stare. I did not know what to do. So I did nothing.

Instead, I was focused on the hand holding his arm. Had she had permission?

"How did you come about this invitation, pray tell?" I challenged.

Cook beamed. "One of the maids in the palace is my cousin." She cast her gaze at Edmond when she told him, "And I fulfilled your request exactly as you instructed."

My body burned hot, but this passion looked like something I'd never borne witness to. The loving way she patted his shoulder next broke my heart.

Edmond held her hand, in plain view of everyone, and smiled. "We are in your debt."

"It's the only one I could get, so please take care with it."

"Of course."

And then she touched his forehead then held his face, an action that had the girls giving a gentle gasp.

Me? I was frozen. The cook cut me a glance and I swallowed my protest. She was doing this on purpose—baiting me.

I'd let her have this victory.

"Come," Edmond said, "I'll see you off."

For lack of something better to do, I took to clearing the table further. That was when I saw Arabella's medicine. Although I was certain the bottle came from no reputable doctor, I considered for a moment that I could try it on poor Edmond. No sooner than I thought to pick it up, Cinderella thundered in and snatched it away.

My readied protest was met with panic. "The cats! He's been awfully tired lately! This will heal him, and he'll stand a fighting chance."

Reluctant at first, I gave into her pout with a sigh. She stampeded into the hall, making a terrible ruckus as she went to her friend's rescue.

As Edmond, who deceivingly assured me of his fine health, was winded for the better part of the day, Cook decided to take her rare day off and spend it preparing dinner for us instead of leaving.

How...very generous of her.

The sweet fragrance of supper filled me with loathing. While the girls and I dined in the proper room, faint murmurs came from the kitchen.

Cook and Edmond ate together and when the day was finally at an end, she met him in the yard and took him by the hand. From my bedroom window, I folded the sheets but caught sight of them, entirely without intent, of course.

They spoke for some time, laughing with one another now and then. By the time she took her leave, I'd folded and refolded the sheets perhaps twenty times.