Tom waggles his eyebrows. “I’ve met quite a few promising candidates for the position of Mrs. Thomas Doyle. Of course, they will have to find me charming and utterly irresistible. I don’t suppose you could aid me in that pursuit with a little bit of…?”
“I’m afraid not,” I say. “You’ll have to take your chances.”
He twirls me a bit hard. “You’re no fun at all, Gemma.”
Later in the evening, I approach my father before he can slip off with the other men for brandy. “Father, I should like to have a word, if you please. Privately.”
For a moment, he regards me warily, but then his apprehension seems to be forgotten. He does not remember what occurred the last time we had such a talk, the night of Spence’s party. I did not need magic to take that memory from him; he has denied it to himself.
We duck into a musty sitting room whose draperies smell of ancient cigar smoke. There are many things we could speak truth of just now: his declining health, the battles I have seen, the friends I have lost. But we shan’t speak of them. It will never be any more than this, and I suppose the only difference now is that I know that. I must pick my battles, and this is the one I have chosen.
“Father,” I begin, my voice quavering. “I ask only that you hear me out.”
“That is an ominous tone,” he says with a wink, trying to lighten the mood. How easy it would be to forget everything I mean to say. Strength, Gemma.
“I am most grateful for this evening. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, my dear….”
“Yes, thank you…but I shan’t attend any other parties. I don’t wish to continue my season.”
Father’s brows knit together in consternation. “Indeed? And why not? Haven’t you been given the best of everything?”
“Yes, and I am most grateful for it,” I say, heart hammering against my ribs.
“Then what is this nonsense?”
“I know. It makes no sense. I’m only just coming to understand it myself.”
“Then perhaps we should discuss it another day.” He starts to rise. Once he does, the conversation will end. There will not be another day. I know this. I know him.
I put my arm on his. “Please, Papa. You said you would hear me out.”