Chapter 18
Sylvie was busy trying to find a way to explain her predicament with Lucy without putting all the blame on the other woman when she realized they weren’t moving anymore.
Miles had stopped dancing with her, leaving them standing still while all of Cleveland’s high society twirled around the dance floor.
She couldn’t read his expression. Her heart felt as if it had been strung tighter than her bowstring. “Miles, are you angry?”
Before he could respond, a hard bump from the side sent Sylvie stumbling.
Insinuating herself where Sylvie had been standing, Lucy wore a forced smile while her eyes blazed with restrained fury.
When she tilted her face up to Miles, however, her expression melted into syrupy sweetness.
“Mr. Wentworth, dear, people are whispering about the two of you staring at each other in the middle of the dance floor. Your name is on my card for the next dance, so perhaps it’s wise for Miss Bryce to move on now before the talk intensifies. ”
Miles glanced at Sylvie, who fought against a cold wave of helplessness.
She hadn’t been able to explain everything to him yet, which meant Lucy still held power over Sylvie.
The significant glare Lucy sent her way proved that the other woman wouldn’t hesitate to march right over to Sylvie’s parents and spill the truth.
But the worst part of it was watching Miles’s gaze bounce back and forth between the two of them, then settle on Lucy.
He was going to choose her. While Sylvie had been encouraging him to do so in subtle ways for weeks, she’d held tight to the belief that she could still stop it from happening.
Had her confession hurt him enough that he would choose Lucy because of it?
With numbness spreading over her, Sylvie did the only thing she could think to do—step back with lowered eyes and let Lucy flounce away with Miles in tow. She couldn’t bear to watch them go, knowing that if Miles looked at her, it would be with regret or even anger.
All wasn’t lost yet. She could try to find a private moment later to warn him of Lucy’s conniving, but if not, she would do so at the show Thursday.
While he might hate her too much to remain friends or even move toward courting as she’d begun to allow herself to dream about, at least she could keep him from shackling himself to a woman like Lucy.
Unfortunately, Sylvie’s parents came to collect her before the quadrille ended. Her mother claimed a terrible headache and refused to let Sylvie stay for the rest of the ball, no matter how she cajoled, squashing any hope of finishing her conversation with Miles that night.
It was a long wait until Thursday, knowing she’d been forced to abandon him with Lucy without giving him the benefit of knowing all the details.
That morning dawned bright and clear, mocking her clouded heart.
All morning, Sylvie prayed, pouring out her hopes for the day.
If all went well, she and Miles would talk, completely open with each other for the first time since meeting.
Even if it didn’t end as she begged God for it to, at least no secrets would be standing between them.
But as Sylvie walked out to begin the show that afternoon, Miles was nowhere in sight. When Sylvie asked if Mr. Miller had any idea of Miles’s whereabouts, Mr. Miller shrugged. Sylvie’s limbs turned heavy. Was Miles so angry with her deception that he wouldn’t return to the show?
Realizing he might have done something so drastic because of her foolishness caused her hands to shake, forcing her to work much harder than usual to get arrows into the targets.
Mr. Miller stood in for Miles where he could, but the crowd always reacted better to Miles’s theatrics.
To be honest, Sylvie always performed better with Miles there too.
The show ended with plenty of applause, then Sylvie made certain her mask and hood were well in place before turning to greet spectators who liked to ask questions after the shows.
Miles had recently started taking time to speak with people, and Sylvie found herself doing the same now.
She hadn’t expected him to have such a good influence on her, getting her to appreciate the audience more, but it seemed he had.
However, after greeting several families with enthusiastic young children, Sylvie straightened to find herself face to face with her father. For a moment, she dared to hope her disguise was enough to keep him from discovering the truth. He wasn’t always the most observant, after all.
But his furrowed brow belied his realization. He swallowed hard, leaning in close. “I hoped it wasn’t true, but I came to see for myself, anyway. I can hardly comprehend why you would do this to parents who only want the best for you.”
Before Sylvie could utter a word to defend herself, he spun around and stalked away.
Spectators filled the space he’d vacated, clamoring for her attention.
But Sylvie pushed past them, rushing to catch up to him.
As soon as she was out of earshot of the crowd, she called out, “Father, please. Wait a moment and let me explain.”
His sudden halt made Sylvie bump straight into his back. He turned as if to check on her, then, seeing her disguise still in place, he shook his head and started walking toward the nearest building. “Not here, I suppose.”
At least he might be willing to listen. Sylvie trotted to follow his brisk steps, stopping with him behind a large pine tree whose circumference provided plenty of privacy. He turned with his hands loose at his sides and his shoulders slumped, as if he didn’t have it in him to fight.
Sylvie pushed her hood back a bit so she could meet his gaze better, unsure how to approach the inevitable conversation. “What brought you here, Father? You aren’t usually one to frequent places like an amusement park.”
“Miss Casburn told me at their ball that there was something here of personal interest to our family. I didn’t intend to come, but the curiosity won out. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always fought against our wishes.”
It was all Sylvie could do not to stamp her foot in frustration like a child.
For years, she’d tried time and again to convince her parents she only wanted to be included in decisions about her life.
“I don’t fight against your wishes to be contrary.
I have dreams for my life that you and Mother have never bothered to listen to.
I want a good marriage, but one that I look forward to, not one Mother chooses for me.
I don’t value moving up in society the way she does.
I’d rather experience real life than continue living in the glittering cage of a socialite, lonely and unhappy. ”
Father’s cheeks turned ruddy, but to Sylvie’s surprise, he appeared to consider her words for the first time.
“Yes, the differences between you and your mother are vast. But we’re looking at your life with the benefit of years of experience.
We don’t want you to regret choices you make on your own when we see where they could lead.
” He spread one arm to encompass the demonstration lawn.
“This could turn out to be grave folly that bears consequences for the rest of your life.”
Sylvie’s frustration cooled. While her parents’ actions tended to be overbearing, particularly her mother’s, Sylvie had always known it was out of caution.
That didn’t make it easier to live with, but it did cool her anger.
“It could. But I want the opportunity to learn that for myself, Father. It would be easier to listen to you and Mother if I felt I had even a bit of input.”
Tilting his head in reflection, Father reached out to pat Sylvie’s arm. “I know, my dear. But your mother…”
He trailed off, but Sylvie could guess what he was about to say. “Mother has her mind set on me marrying well and very soon.”
Relief that she understood relaxed his features. “I learned long ago that I’m no match for her when she’s determined, Sylvie. I can’t stop her from trying to arrange what she sees as the best possible union for you.”
Silence hung between them, heavy with things Sylvie wished she could say, but which wouldn’t be well received. “The summer is almost over. Would you at least allow me this sliver of freedom until we return to Cleveland?”
He gazed past the tree at the beach in the distance. “For the three weeks until we return to town, I can keep quiet about this. But that will have to be it, Sylvie. You must face the reality of your life once this summer ends.”
The weight that had threatened to crush Sylvie’s lungs since she spotted her father released, allowing her to breathe again.
With three weeks, she might be able to figure out a new plan, something that could gain her even more secure independence.
Impulsively, she stepped forward and threw her arms around him.
“Thank you, Father. Thank you. I’ll make the most of it. ”
When she stepped back, he nodded. “I need to be on my way. You should know that your mother is starting to get suspicious about your whereabouts on Mondays and Thursdays. She’s not convinced you’re doing charity work with Matilda.
If she figures out for herself that something is going on and asks me, I won’t lie to her. ”
Sylvie’s heart melted a bit. He did care about her, but he was as trapped by society’s expectations and rules as she was. “Thank you. I’ll be on my guard for the next few weeks.”