and of course Daniel, who sat on the end of our pew, waited for them to pass before moving into the aisle himself.
I tried to shove past him, but he intentionally blocked my way.
“Anxious to leave this morning, are we? Cannot wait to discover who is waiting for you at home?”
I smiled sweetly. “Certainly. Anything is better than sitting next to your stink all morning.”
Skepticism flashed through his eyes, but he discreetly tilted his head to smell his armpit. His distraction provided me just enough space to squeeze by him, and I blew him a kiss as I passed.
The Rosthorns were already making their way to their carriage. I ran up to Louisa. “I need to speak with you,” I whispered, feigning a smile at the Johnsons, who were gathered around waiting for their mother to finish speaking with Louisa’s. “Behind the bushes,” I added. The old holly, situated conveniently out of earshot of casual eavesdroppers, was a place we met whenever there was something we needed to discuss while our parents socialized after services.
Louisa’s brows rose and she gave a slight nod, but as we took a step back, Mrs. Johnson’s second daughter, Catherine, intercepted us. “Miss Rosthorn, how lovely you look this morning.” Her shrewd gaze swept over my hair and dress. “And Miss Brinton.”
“Miss Johnson, such a pleasure,” I replied, forcing my tone to be polite. Though she was a year older than us, we had all been childhood friends until we had come out into society. Catherine had then become the epitome of ill-will, acting as though each man in the village—and each new one who appeared—was somehow her personal property and Louisa and I the thieves. She’d even had intentions for Daniel at one point.
“Did I overhear your brother mention that you are expecting a guest?”
Curse Daniel for telling people. “We are.”
Her lips dipped into a frown. “How refreshing. Family, I assume? Is your guest staying long?”
Catherine knew perfectly well we had no family who would visit. My mother’s only sister had passed a few years before without marrying, and my father was an only child. None of their parents were living. Catherine was just being nosy, and my patience was running thin. I needed to speak with Louisa.
“Not family. Someone my father knows. I am certain the man will be a dead bore. But if you would like to see him for yourself and try your hand at winning his affection, you are more than welcome to visit.”
“Thank you, but we have plans.” She looked at Louisa. “Good day, Miss Rosthorn.” She turned her back to us and rejoined her family.
“Margaret, that was rude,” Louisa said.
“It was,” I acknowledged. “And of course I am sorry. But I do not wish to discuss Catherine. I have something more pressing to speak to you about.” I led the way to the bushes.
“What is it?”
My parents were conversing with some neighbors, their smiles a further betrayal to me. They should at least appear morose about confining their daughter to such a predicament. “The man, the guest who’s coming—Louisa, my father intends for me to marry him.”
“What? Is it Mr. Northam?”
“No, it is someone I have never met.”
Louisa paled. “Oh, no.”
“You have to help me. I must find some way out of this. I cannot hide his arrival from the town, but if I can find some way out of the arrangement tonight, it might be possible to keep gossip at a minimum.”
She nodded with understanding. “What will you do?”
“I have no plan as of yet. I am too anxious to think clearly. I was hoping you would suggest something.”
She shook her head sadly. “I wouldn’t know what to do. You cannot very well go against your parents’ wishes without tainting your reputation. Perhaps you could tell him, in confidence, that your heart is already engaged elsewhere?” At my skeptical look, she amended, “Well, not your heart, but your interest?”
“The type of man to enter into an agreement of marriage without even first seeing his bride will not care two whits about her wishes or interests.”
“You will think of something. I know you will.” Louisa glanced back at the crowd. “I have to go. Mother is searching for me.”
Her mother was indeed searching the faces around her for her daughter, while her father’s expression no longer held the smile it had sported while speaking with the Johnsons. Glancing across the crowd, I saw why. My father inclined his head to Sir Edward, but then turned his back. Though