Page 84 of Duke of Iron
He is impossible,she thought, but did not pull her hand away again.
Intermission came, and with it, a tide of guests desperate for punch. May and Logan lingered in their seats.
“You are very good at this,” Logan said.
“At what? Enduring suffering?”
“Being brave. And kind.”
May snorted. “I am not brave. I am just stubborn.”
He squeezed her hand. “It amounts to the same.”
May wanted to say something clever, but she could not think of anything. She watched the crowd instead—the way the girls clustered together, the way the older women nodded to each other as if sharing a joke no one else could hear.
She said, “I do not think I would have survived this last year.”
Logan looked at her. “You would have. You survived worse.”
She frowned. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
The lights dimmed again, and the second half began. This time, there was a piano solo, a waltz, and a dramatic reading of Othello in which all the roles were played by one girl with a penchant for sneezing mid-sentence. May was both horrified and delighted.
At the end, the audience applauded with genuine enthusiasm. May clapped hardest of all.
As the room emptied, Logan drew her aside. “Did you enjoy it?”
May feigned outrage. “You are a menace. You knew exactly what this was.”
He gave her a half-bow. “And yet, you shone.”
She laughed. “I only survived.”
He smiled, softer than before. “I like you very much, May. I hope you know.”
She looked down, cheeks hot. “I know.”
They walked to the carriage in companionable silence.
Inside, as the city lights passed outside the windows, Logan reached for her hand again.
“May,” he said, after a time. “What did you truly think of the musicale?”
She thought. “I think… I think it was the bravest thing I have seen. All those girls, trying so hard. Failing sometimes, but still trying.” She looked at him. “It reminded me of myself. Always on the verge of disaster.”
Logan shook his head. “Not disaster. Triumph. You forget how remarkable you are.”
She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
He touched her face, gently, as if he might smooth away every doubt.
May swallowed. “I would like to do something for them. The wallflowers, the outcasts. The girls who are not quite enough for the rest of the world.”
Logan said, “I think you already do.”
May smiled, small but real. “Not enough. I want to host a party, here at the house. Just for them. No pressure, no performances. Just… company. Maybe even some gentlemen who are not awful.”
