Page 42 of As Many Souls as Stars
‘I was born on the Continent,’ she replied. That explained the accent. ‘Since I came to England, I haven’t taken much part in society. I find it distasteful.’
‘Distasteful?’
She gave an elegant shrug. ‘One English dance is much like any other dance, and one Englishman, much like any other man; I find myself quite exasperated by them all.’
There was an unmistakable significance to her tone. Esther felt herself beginning to flush, and she cleared her throat. ‘What was your name?’
The woman paused, considering. Her fingers drummed a rhythm against the table; the strike of her thumb coincided with another crash of thunder.
‘Miriam Richter,’ she said.
Esther swallowed, her stomach squirming. She had a sudden and inexplicable sense of danger.
‘Miss Richter,’ Esther said, ‘I am flattered by your interest. But there are many other ladies at this event, no doubt, who are far more fascinating than I am.’
Richter smiled at her. ‘I doubt that. You are a bloom among weeds, my dear. But tell me—why are you sitting in this storm, all alone? Where is your chaperone?’
‘I presume my brother is inside with everyone else.’
‘He is a fool to leave such a gem unguarded.’
‘Do I require guarding?’ she asked.
‘From whom?’
‘You,’ Esther said. ‘I don’t know what your intentions are.’
‘You needn’t be frightened of me.’
‘Perhaps,’ Esther replied. ‘Still, something about you is… strange.’
‘Oh?’
‘I…’ She paused to consider her explanation. Richter watched her with dark eyes half lidded, chin resting on the heel of her hand. Esther said, softly, ‘Have you ever had a dream so beautiful that when you woke, you wept?’
Richter’s smile widened. ‘Do I feel like a dream?’
‘No,’ Esther said. ‘You feel like the moment I wake up.’
The thunder rumbled once more.
Esther might have expected Richter to be offended by this comment, or else confused; but the other woman made no reaction except to cock her head and narrow her eyes, as if calculating something.
‘You are living with your cousin,’ Richter said. ‘Thomas Harding.’
‘So youdoknow who I am. If this is some sort of trick—’
‘Do you trust him?’ Richter interjected.
‘Pardon?’
‘Your cousin. Do you trust him?’
‘That is an impertinent question, don’t you think?’
‘So, you do not.’
Esther huffed. ‘Of course I trust him. He is family. He gave Isaac and me a home.’
