Panic

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

            “So,” Celina said.  “Tell me all about it.”

            “My goodness, Celina, you are an awful gossip,” I said teasingly.  “No one is going to want to marry you.”

            “Nonsense,” Celina said.  “Men like wives that gossip.  Gentlemen like to know everything that is going on in society.”

            “You talk a lot about marriage,” Theodora said.  “Certainly you aren’t thinking about marrying Mr. Pan?”

            “Pe- Mr. Pan?” I asked.  “You must be joking.  I barely know him.”

            “Obviously not,” Celina said.  “You nearly called him by his first name.  What’s his name again, Dora?”

            “Peter,” Theodora said with a grin.

            “Ah, yes,” Celina said.  “Mr. Peter Pan.  Quite a dashing figure, isn’t he?”

            “Give it a rest,” I said.  “We shared a few dances.”

            “And yet you paid very little attention to Mr. Leland,” Celina said.

            “That is most certainly not true,” I said indignantly.  “I gave Mr. Leland three dances and Mr. Pan only got two.”

            Celina and Theodora exchanged a look.  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” I said.  “You know as well as I do that I will not be marrying either Mr. Leland or Mr. Pan.”

            “Mr. Pan is quite mysterious, isn’t he?” Theodora teased.

            “You two are awful,” I exclaimed.  It was our midday break, and Theodora, Celina and I had gone to the “Lily Room” for a quick conversation about the night before. 

            “He was quite nice though,” Celina said.  “Very polite, indeed.”

            “You sound shocked,” Theodora said.  “I thought he was very kind.  Ever so courteous to Wendy and me when we met him.”

            “Yes, well, that doesn’t mean that anyone’s going to be marrying him,” I said firmly, pushing thoughts of marrying Peter out of my head.

            “Do you want to marry him?” Celina asked.

            “No!” I exclaimed vehemently.  Do I? 

            “You need to stop match-making Celina,” Theodora said.  “She’s barely known him.”

            “It could be like the fairy tales,” Celina said dreamily.  “Love at first sight.”

            I laughed inwardly.  My entire childhood had been a fairy tale.  If Celina knew who Peter really was, she’d be pushing the fairy tale thing much harder.

            “Let’s talk about you and Mr. Borne,” Theodora said, turning to Celina.  “Did he propose yet?”

            “No!” Celina exclaimed.

            “No?” Theodora gasped.  “Oh, heavens, the bastard!  How long does he expect to keep you waiting?”

            “Dora!” I said, shocked.  Of all the girls to swear, I would probably have been the most likely.