Chapter 27

For four days, Leah had not moved from her bed, feigning the same sickness that had temporarily afflicted Phoebe and Anna and seemed to be sweeping through London. She kept the drapes drawn, refused all food other than the soup her mother brought her, and slept fitfully, her dreams transforming into nightmares where a great bat swooped down and carried her off the balcony of Lord Haughton's manor in its piercing talons. Still, even those nightmares were better than being awake, remembering everything that had passed between her and the man who had stolen her heart.

However, on the morning of the fifth day, she awoke from an afternoon nap to discover that the cavalry had been summoned.

Startled, she sat bolt upright, rubbing her bleary eyes as Matilda marched to the windows and yanked the drapes aside, letting in a haze of dull, grey light. "We know you are not unwell, Leah," she said, returning to an armchair that had been dragged to Leah's bedside. "So, begin at the beginning. What is the meaning of your self-exile?"

"I am unwell," Leah mumbled, shifting awkwardly beneath the bed linens. It was nigh-on impossible to lie to Matilda; she had a keen sense for deception.

Matilda clicked her tongue. "Try again. I touched your brow; there is no fever. Nor are you coughing and spluttering like a seal with a fish caught in its throat. I asked your mother; she said you had not had a cough of any kind." A small sigh escaped her lips. "That is when I knew you were lying and became twice as concerned."

"I could barely breathe for at least the first two days of my sickness," Phoebe confirmed. "My sisters, too."

Anna climbed up onto the edge of the bed and took hold of Leah's hand. "What has happened, dearest Leah? I fear there is a lovesickness in the air."

Without warning, Leah burst into tears, hiding her face beneath the edge of her blankets as her shoulders shuddered with the weight of it all, her shattered heart unable to hold itself together any longer—not in front her friends where there was no need to pretend.

All three of the young ladies crowded the bed, clambering right up onto it, smothering Leah with their tight embraces. They held her as she sobbed, letting out everything she had been bottling up for the past few days, fearful that even the smallest whimper would bring her mother and father, and with them, questions.

"It is over," she whispered, explaining what had occurred on the balcony between strangling sobs that left her throat raw. For context, she told them about the botanical gardens and of Jonathan's unwelcome appearance on the terrace at Lord Haughton's ball, but that was all she could say. Indeed, reliving it all had exhausted the small amount of strength she had remaining. "But… despite everything," she added weakly, "I love him. And I do not know what to do."

Matilda hugged Leah tightly, muttering "scoundrel" under her breath.

"I am so very sorry," Phoebe said, stroking Leah's hair.

Leah held her friends tighter. "It is my own fault. I pulled aside the curtain between fantasy and reality."

"Do not say that!" Matilda scolded. "It is not your fault. If he had not kissed you, perhaps there would be an argument for that, but he did, so cease with those sorts of thoughts. He is entirely to blame."

"We ought to chase him down and throw eggs at him," Anna insisted, taking everyone by surprise. "What? Am I not allowed to be furious? The wretched man kissed her and then told her it was over! I hate nothing more than I hate someone raising another's hopes before dashing them soundly."

Phoebe sighed. "I am guessing you have not yet officially broken the courtship as I saw no hint of it in the scandal sheets."

"I could not muster the courage," Leah admitted, averting her gaze from Matilda's. Their fearless leader did not know the meaning of the word "cowardice," and she did not have the emotional vigor to be judged.

Anna shook her head solemnly. "A pugilist. Of all the things I might have suspected, that would not have been it."

"He is rather famous, apparently." Leah inhaled sharply, forcing back a second wave of inconsolable sobs. She did not want to have to think of him at all; it was too painful.

Matilda eyed Leah closely. "Did you have any suspicions about it?"

"None, and… I do not want to use that as my reason for breaking… the courtship. It is his secret, not… mine," Leah replied, struggling through her sentences. "But if I do not use that, I do not know… how I shall keep the blame from… me. Perhaps, I do not want to. Let them… spurn me. I no longer care."

Phoebe made a grumble of dissent. "Use it. He has given you permission. Your reputation will be spared, and his will barely be dented. He will likely become a luminary amongst society's gentlemen, and the younger ladies will find it ever-so mysterious and dashing. Only the older generations will scorn him, and that will not last long." She patted Leah's back. "It is the best way, Leah, for everyone."

"My mama will be crushed," Leah breathed, trembling with the effort of holding herself together.

Phoebe smiled. "She will understand."

"And you will not have to do anything," Matilda interjected. "We shall inform the appropriate individuals of what has happened, so that the news spreads quickly. I am already conjuring the story in my head as we speak. We can even tell your mother and father if you cannot. That is why you have us, my dearest Leah. We are your champions, always and forever, and if you do not have the strength to do this, we shall be your voice and your might."

Anna nodded. "And once we have protected your reputation, then we shall chase him down and throw eggs at him."

"I am in utter agreement," Matilda said, smiling.

But Phoebe seemed pensive, her gaze faraway.

"What are you thinking?" Leah prodded.

Phoebe hesitated for a moment. "I am pondering things, that is all." She paused. "You do not know where we might find this "Bill" individual, do you?"

"The warehouses on the London Docks is all I know," Leah replied, curious. "Why do you ask?"

Phoebe shrugged. "No reason. Indeed, it was a foolish notion." She put on a smile, but Leah could still see cogs turning in her friend's eyes. "Of course, we will tell society what has happened, just as soon as you wish us to. And then, yes, we shall go and throw eggs at Nathaniel. Rotten ones, as stinky as possible."

Deciding she was imagining things, Leah took a breath. "I will inform my parents first. Once I have told them, I shall send word to you to proceed." Her breath caught in her throat. "Then, it shall truly be over."

"And he said he was doing this to protect you?" Phoebe blurted out.

Leah nodded uncertainly.

"From what? From him?" Phoebe pressed as if trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together in her mind. Leah wanted to tell her that it was no use, for she had been trying to do the same thing for four days to no avail.

Instead, she replied, "I assume so."

"Well then, perhaps he has done a good thing," Phoebe said, doubt clinging to her voice. "Nathaniel knows himself better than anyone. None of us would want to see you hurt if it turned out that he was like his father."

Matilda nodded. "Certainly not." She rested a hand on Leah's shoulder, squeezing it. "The pain will lessen, or so I am told. Now, is there anything we can fetch for you? You look atrocious. Perhaps, some tea or some soup or I could ask that a bath be drawn for you?"

"Is it that bad?" Leah mustered a tight laugh.

"You are still the most beautiful of brokenhearted ladies, but you are beginning to fester somewhat," Matilda replied, for she was nothing if not honest. "So, what do you say?"

Leah dabbed a stray tear from her cheek. "I will get out of bed, I will take a bath, I will eat, I will drink some water, and I will refresh myself. Then I will tell my mother and father what has happened." She dreaded every step as she spoke. "But I must do it alone, for I will lose my nerve if you are all here, standing beside me."

"Do you still want us to spread the news for you?" Matilda asked, practical as ever.

Leah gave a reluctant nod. "That is one thing I cannot do, even if I had all the soup and baths in the world. Thank you for offering, or I would likely still be in a courtship with him by the end of the London season."

"Anything to make this easier," Anna said, her voice choked. "Goodness, though I know it did not seem like it, I had such silly hopes for the two of you. Then again, I have silly hopes for all of you. I really should stop wishing for such things. Indeed, I shall stop, just as soon as we leave! I swear it, here and now, and you can all hold me to account if I start saying foolish things again."

Matilda chuckled. "You know we shall hold you to account, and you will undoubtedly falter. It is who you are, and we would not change that for anything." She smiled across at Leah. "But maybe just wish for Leah's happiness for a while in whatever form that may take."

"Of course," Anna agreed.

Phoebe leaned in and kissed Leah on the forehead as if she was one of her little sisters. "We will leave you in peace, my dear. On the way out, I will ask one of the maids to draw you that bath to take one thing off your list." She drew back. "Have courage, sweet Leah. You already possess it in abundance."

"Indeed, and if your father should start screeching, scream louder and we will come running," Matilda promised.

With one last, fond embrace, Leah's friends said their farewells and headed out of the bedchamber, leaving Leah brimming with the borrowed strength to at least get herself out of bed. As for the rest—she would have to wait and see if she could manage it, for once the news was out, that would be it. It really would be over, and with the press of his kiss still a bittersweet memory on her lips, she was not certain she was ready to let go of the fantasy just yet.

Why did Phoebe ask about Bill? her mind whispered, but no matter how hard she strained for an answer, none would come. Maybe, because there was not one. Phoebe liked to have all the pieces of a story, that was all, even if it changed nothing. And as Leah stared out at the gloomy sky, a web of frost splintering across the window, the clouds threatening more snow, she understood that nothing would change.

Nathaniel did not want her. Nathaniel had shunned her. Sooner or later, she would have to come to terms with it whether she was ready to or not.