20 Hers

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I always hated this conversation. Unfortunately, it was one I had found myself in many times before. Women had always been interested in me, had always vied for my attentions, and so from time to time, when one of them got too close or too hopeful, necessity would dictate that I let them down gently so as not to string them along when there was truly no hope of anything occurring between us. But this talk, telling them to their face, watching the hope and the excitement drain from their expression in a single instant, it always made me sick with myself despite the pain I knew I was sparing them. But as difficult as this conversation was, I'd learned first hand the consequences of not having it and I did not seek to experience that again.

"Emily," I said now as the girl walked alongside me, smiling more in the morning sun than I'd ever seen her do before. That would make this particularly difficult. "You know I think the world of you-"

"You do?" She turned to me, eyes wide and hopeful, staring into my own with an awe that made dread coil  in the pit of my stomach.

"I- of course. You're a lovely girl, it's just that I-" I stuttered. Her smile was already starting to dim and I became distracted by the sight of her sister storming from the house in pursuit of Benthem. "Well, I don't think that we are romantically matched."

"Oh."

I couldn't remove my eyes from Ella who was now climbing into the carriage with Benthem.

"Oh," Emily said again and I looked over to find she had followed my gaze and was watching her sister as well, eyes narrowed into a fierce glare. Oh no. That wasn't my intention either.

"Truly, I'm no match for anyone," I told her then, trying to steer the blame away from her sister though I couldn't truthfully say that Ella wasn't perhaps a part of my decision to have this conversation sooner rather than later, "Romantically."

"Romantically," she repeated, cocking her head to the side and studying me. "You keep saying that. What other way is there?"

"Well, friends, I hope. Perhaps you and I could be... friends."

"You want to be friends," she restated, slowly as if in disbelief, as if she thought this some sort of trick, "with me."

"Why not?"

She took a breath, narrowing her eyes at me in further suspicion.

"Emily, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-" I started but I got no farther.

"It is I who should be sorry," she interrupted. "I don't think I was ever truly interested in you. But everyone else was and I've always been far too competitive with my sister so-"

"Wait. What do you mean 'far too competitive' with Ella?" I asked, heart soaring at the very mention of her name in a horribly embarrassing way. I desperately needed Emily to answer my question. Did she mean she had to compete for me because Ella was interested in me or because I was interested in her? And how did she know? Had she and Ella spoken of me? And why did I want to know all of this so badly?

Emily rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. Now that she did not have to impress me, her sour nature was back and she just stared at me indifferently for a moment before speaking in a way that showed her annoyance clearly in every aspect of her tone.

"The two of you are unbelievable, you know," she muttered. "Thinking no one else notices. I see the way you watch her. I sit in the corners at these wretched balls, remember? I have nothing else to do but watch the people around me. The moment she enters the room, you change. And she does the same when she sees you. Elijah is a fool for not noticing and my mother is far too concerned with the safety net Thomas Abney. Those other women are too lost in their own hope you'll notice them and the men barely notice a girl without a debut. But I've noticed. And so has Madison."

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