Page 12 of The Spring Promise
“This is not about what you want, is it?” Molly retorted. “I want you to pretend you are in love with me and make him jealous. There, I’ve said it. Now, I expect you to make good on your promise, Will Starling.”
For a moment, she was sure he would refuse. He sat heavily on the hay bale. “Is that what you really want?” he asked, confused.
“I’ve said so, haven’t I?”
He nodded slowly. “So you do desire him? I thought perhaps…” He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Very well, then. I made the promise, so I will do as you ask. Together we will make Hunter green with jealousy.”
“Good,” said Molly.
Will’s lips twitched into a smile, as if he had suddenly become aware of the ridiculousness of the situation. “Do you have a plan? Knowing you, you will have several plans.”
“I do have a plan,” she said, refusing to smile back. “There is a ball at the Norris’s on Saturday, if I recall correctly. We can start there.”
Will looked at her in a curious way, as if he had never seen this side of her before. Indeed, she felt as if she was a stranger to herself. Perhaps she had lost her mind, but it was too late to back out now.
“Very well,” he said briskly. “Saturday it is.”
Molly nodded in a decisive way and walked out. What had been meant to be a visit to check on a friend had turned into a ridiculous charade. It was Will’s fault, of course. Everything was his fault. Except the bit where Molly loved him but she was too proud to tell him so. Because how could she do that when he was still in mourning for Celeste?
She should be happy. It appeared as though Will’s hopes for marrying Celeste were dashed. Only now she was enmeshed in this absurd farce that seemed to have no end.
CHAPTEREIGHT
Will found evenings at the Norris’s very stiff and formal, especially compared to the informality of Starling Hall. The Norris family lived most of the time in London but returned to their country home at least once a year. They consisted of Mr and Mrs. Norris and their four sons, who were aged between 18 and 25 years.
Will wasn’t overly keen on any of them—they seemed to think their country neighbours were beneath them—but Molly had asked him to attend. His parents would be there, along with two of his sisters, Abby and Breana.
Breana had just turned 19 and was perhaps the prettiest of the Starling children, although they were all said to be good-looking if one liked red hair and blue eyes. Breana was named by Lady Starling’s unconventional sister, who had come to stay during the birth. She was supposed to be there to help with the other two children, but had mostly caused chaos and uproar. She hadn’t changed, and the thought of her still made Will shudder.
All the same, the name Breana was appropriate for someone so bright and bubbly, sometimestoobubbly, and who rarely sat still for long. People were drawn to her, and sometimes it was difficult to persuade them to leave.
Tonight, the Norris’s had hired rather a large orchestra, who were in the ballroom playing their hearts out, and there was enough food in the supper room to feed an army. Will tried not to criticise, but when he thought of the tenant farmers who paid Mr Norris for their land, and the dreadful state of their cottages, it was hard not to point it out.
“Please don’t,” Abby sighed.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
“Yes, I do. You have that disapproving look on your face.”
Will suspected she was right. He tried to smile and lighten his mood, but it had been dark ever since Molly reminded him of his promise. He had a violent dislike for Mark Hunter. The man made his skin itch. Why didn’t the fellow go back to London where he belonged and leave him in peace?
Celeste would also be here tonight, and it was probably the last chance he had of seeing her before she left. On the one hand, it meant he would not have to be reminded of his broken heart whenever he saw her, but on the other, her departure would leave him confused and lonely.
He seemed to be confused a lot lately.
“There’s Molly!” Breana said in a loud voice. But instead of shushing her for making a disturbance, everybody around her smiled. Breana had that effect on people.
He followed his sister’s pointing finger and saw Molly and her sister Grace. Molly was wearing a dress the colour of the spring growth on the ash trees that ran along their southern border, and her hair was curled and bounced about her face as she turned this way and that, greeting people and smiling.
“Whatever is wrong with you, Will?” Abby said in a low, scolding voice. “You look as if you are going to the gallows.”
“You read too many romances,” Will countered, knowing that the novels were one of his eldest sister’s few vices, but he had no heart for a verbal sparring match today. “I am going to speak to Molly.”
“Go then. And for goodness sake, cheer up!”
Abby reminded him of their mother sometimes. Although she was not much older than him, she was like a senior woman in so many ways. Because she was the eldest Starling, she hadn’t been allowed to be a child very long. Will was probably like that as well—sensible and dependable and all too aware of his responsibilities. Such character traits were good to have, but sometimes it did not make him amusing company in a social setting.
Molly looked up as he approached. There was a wary expression on her face he did not understand. He took her hand in his and bowed more formally than normal.
