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The Reeves had been part of all of their lives. Not just hers.

“Oh, I’m sure we couldn’t.” Rachel pursed her lips. “They are used to finer accommodations than Belvoir Lane could offer them now. We couldn’t ask them to condescend to visit us.”

“I can and I will,” Arabella promised. “The Reeves are not stuffy. They are not any less inclined to take tea in our parlor than they were two months ago.”

“I do miss hearing all the latest news from Betsy and Susan,” Rachel confessed with a smile. “I know those girls are not always considered quite the thing, but they have such a charming manner when they are in spirits.”

“They screech something terrible when they’re laughing, but they’re a kind pair,” Matthew said. “They never failed to help out when you used to ask them to bring lemonade down to the docks to quench our thirst on a hot day.”

Arabella smiled into her teacup. Betsy and Susan had always leant a willing hand when it meant hanging about the shore and watching the burly rope makers at work. She doubted their newfound wealth had dampened their enthusiasm.

* * *

Lady Margaret’s presence in Inverley had improved the Reeves’ standing in society to the point that invitations overflowed the silver salver that they kept in the hallway. Betsy tried to argue that she could find the time to attend up to five invitations in one evening, if she stayed but a fashionable quarter hour at each event, and wanted to send back a positive reply to every invitation.

Caroline held firm and told her that she was only to accept invitations if she could guarantee her presence for a polite amount of time. “We do not want our name to be associated with flightiness and poor manners,” she told Betsy during one of their many arguments.

“I’m not flighty!” Betsy cried. She was sitting on the edge of Caroline’s bed as Caroline finished attending to her hair. They were expecting Lady Edith and Grace for an afternoon visit, and they were due to arrive any minute. “I can manage my time well enough, thank you very much.”

“Why do you even wish to exhaust yourself at so many soirees?” Caroline fastened her earbob and met Betsy’s eyes in the mirror.

“I have a great many new acquaintances. I don’t wish to slight any of them.”

New acquaintances. Caroline feared she meant new suitors.

“I don’t doubt it, but no one will be slighted if you decline an invitation when you have already accepted another.”

“Any sister with proper feeling in her heart would warm to my plight. We have all we could wish for now, but you aren’t letting me enjoy any of it!”

Caroline willed herself not to lose her temper. “You have enjoyed plenty this summer, and I am delighted for you to enjoy more. Within reason.”

“Reason! That is hardly the way I wish to live my life.”

Caroline gazed at Betsy with her hard eyes and set mouth and crossed arms. She could remember when she had been born, a scrappy howling infant with plenty of spirit in her. She knew her fears, her hopes, her worries. Or at least…shehadknown them. Betsy had become more of a mystery the older she was, and while Caroline had always expected them to become closer once she was grown, it felt like they only ever grew further apart.

Caroline had spoken to Lady Margaret about her concerns about Betsy’s behavior, but she had merely twinkled at her and sang that everything was well under control for her little ducklings.

Sometimes, Caroline wished for nothing more than to take back the moment where she had ever written to Lady Margaret to ask for her sponsorship.

“Is there someone in particular that you hope to see at these soirees?” Caroline asked.

Betsy raised her chin. “There might be,” she said. “He’s wonderful.”

There had been many men who Betsy had declared wonderful one minute, and then tedious beyond measure in the next.

Caroline’s mind raced. If Betsy truly had set her cap for someone, was he good enough for her? Would there be scandal? Knowing Betsy, he was unsuitable in every way. He could be a gambler, or a rakehell. Or he would ruin her and crush her heart. Caroline would rather run a man through with a sword than see him hurt her sister, but try as she might, she could not wrench his name from Betsy.

“I can’t wait to leave this family!” Betsy snapped instead of answering. “I hate being interrogated at every turn, without any trust from anyone. One day, I shall have a ring on this finger and leave forever—or I shall leave my finger bare and find my own way in London!”

She stalked out of the room.

There was a knock at the front door. Betsy and Caroline went downstairs, where Susan was already impatient enough to throw the door open instead of waiting for a servant to open it.

“Edie!” Susan cried. “You must see our new frocks that were delivered today.”

“You will think our new dresses divine,” Betsy assured Lady Edith, tossing her curls and avoiding looking at Caroline.

In a giggling swarm, the three of them went upstairs.