Born Wicked
Page 45

Tess smiles, her dimple flashing. “You promise?”
“I promise.” But my conscience gives a great loud pang. I don’t know if I can keep that promise. Even if I can wrangle Paul into staying in Chatham, if the Sisters discover that I can do mind-magic, I don’t think they’ll allow me to marry. Elena talked of women gaining their independence —but what aboutmyindependence?
My temper rises. It’s one thing for me to decide, voluntarily, to forgo marriage and join the Sisters and work toward their cause. I haven’t ruled it out. But I don’t care for being forced into anything. No matter how safe and beautiful it is, a cage is still a cage.
Paul’s waiting in the sitting room, but he hasn’t removed his gray overcoat. He stands up and hands me a bouquet of white roses. I bury my face in them, inhaling deeply. “They’re lovely, thank you.”
He smiles. His sunburn has faded, and his green eyes are bright against his tanned skin. “They’re not your favorites, I know, but Mother’s garden is anemic compared with yours.”
Clever boy. Flowers and compliments on my garden are the surest way to my heart, and he knows it. “Have you been waiting long? I was studying with Tess.”
“It’s all right. Maura stopped by and kept me company for a few minutes.” Paul leans against the piano. “Your sisters are getting to be proper young ladies, aren’t they? I can remember when Tess was crawling over the floors and we had to keep her from putting dirt in her mouth.”
“She did have a talent for chewing on everything in her path. I think she ate half a worm once.” I laugh, remembering how revolted Mrs. O’Hare was to find the other half still squirming in Tess’s hand.
Paul nods sagely. “Possibly it was for scientific purposes.”
“Possibly. She was very inquisitive, even as a baby.”
“There was that entire year when all she said was ‘Why?’ And you made up those ridiculous reasons for things.” Paul tilts his head to one side in that funny way Tess has, and pitches his voice high. He’s always been brilliant at impersonations. “‘Why do horses have four legs? Why isn’t snow blue? Why? Why?’”
I laugh, trailing a hand over the closed lid of the piano. “Well, how am I supposed to know why bumblebees can fly and Tess can’t? Aside from the wings, I mean.”
Paul brushes a stray hair away from my face. “You’re beautiful when you laugh.”
The smile slips from my face. How did we go from reminiscing to flirtation? “Do I usually look haggard?”
“You’re always beautiful to me,” he says tenderly, stroking my cheek. “But you worry too much. I’d take away some of your troubles if I could.”
I wish it were that easy. I pull away, smiling stiffly. “I manage.”
“I know you do. I’m not criticizing you, Cate. I’d like to help. Whatever it is. You can count on me,” he says, uncharacteristically earnest. Then he grins. “Shall we go for a walk?”
I glance out the window, uneasy. It rained this morning, but now there’s a fresh wind whipping at the trees, sending the gray clouds skimming across the sky. I’ve been cooped up inside all day; I do want to go out. But what if we run into Finn?
“Let me guess, it’s too cold,” Paul suggests. “You’re afraid to catch a chill.”
I smack his arm lightly. “I am not!”
“You’ve been spending too much time with Miss Ishida. You’ll become a delicate flower yet,” he teases.
If only he knew. Rory turned one of the buttons on Sachi’s bodice into a centipede, and she hardly blinked. Sachi Ishida’s a good deal hardier than anyone suspects.
“Nonsense,” I laugh. “Of course I’ll go.”
I bundle up in my cloak and call for Lily. Once we’re out in the gardens, my nerves stretch out like a thin ribbon. The wind whips my skirts around my ankles and tugs threateningly at my hood. I find myself listening for the sound of hammering at the gazebo. I don’t hear it; I wonder if perhaps Finn isn’t here at all. Perhaps he was needed at home today. My heart sinks at the thought. The truth is, I’ve come to crave the sight of him.
I turn my face up to the sky, reveling in the breeze that buffets my cheeks. At least I’m not cowering in the house.
“Let’s go in here and get out of the wind,” Paul suggests, tugging me into Mother’s rose garden. “Lily, could we have a moment?”
They don’t give me a chance to object. Lily scurries away, smiling fit to burst, and then it hits me: they’ve arranged this.
He’s arranged this.
For all my brave talk of asking him to stay in Chatham, I don’t feel ready.
“Cate,” he says, like he relishes the taste of my name on his tongue. He stands tall, his shoulders broad, his stance wide. “I know this is your favorite place. That’s why I wanted to say this here.”
I open my mouth, but he puts up a hand to forestall me, chuckling. “Just listen for a minute. I love you, Cate. I’ve always loved you. Ever since you took that dare and walked that pigpen fence.” He laughs a little. “The sky is just the color of your eyes today, do you know that?”
“Paul, I—”Stop,I want to say.Don’t do this. Please.
He plows ahead, heedless. “I know this is unconventional. I haven’t had a chance to speak to your father yet. But I thought it might suit you, asking you first. I can’t imagine he’d object if you were happy. I think Icanmake you happy, Cate. And I would be truly honored—that is to say, you’d make me very happy if—will you be my wife?”
My eyes fall to the ground in confusion. Paul would be a good husband to me. He would be a partner, not a master. He makes me laugh. He’s handsome. And I do love him.
I should say yes. I should say yes and then I should ask whether he would consider living in Chatham, at least for the first few years of our marriage. Just until Tess marries. After that, she’d be safer. But I can’t ask Paul to give up his job and rearrange his life for an engagement that I might well be forced to break. It’s not fair to him.
Or to me. I think back to my conversation in the carriage with Maura. I don’t feel butterflies when Paul says my name, when he touches my hand. I don’t miss him on the days he doesn’t come to call. Whatever being in love is—I don’t think I feel that way toward him.
I can’t bring myself to say yes. Not yet. Perhaps in a few weeks, I’ll be able to find a way around Elena and the Sisters. Perhaps when I’ve forgotten the way Finn’s kisses made me feel—how tempted I was to tellhimabout the magic—I’ll be able to say yes in good conscience.
“Paul, I—” How can I put him off in a way that won’t hurt him?
But the moment I look up, he knows. He sets his jaw in that way he has and shoves his hands into his pockets. “I’ve rushed things. I was afraid I was too late, but you need more time.”
I feel a great glad swell of relief. “Yes,” I say, finally meeting his eyes.
“You’re not saying no, though?” His eyes are worried, vulnerable.
“No,” I assure him. “I’m not saying no.”
“Good.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Am I allowed to try to convince you?”