Free A Lady's Vanishing Choices by Wareeze Woodson

Bethany. She’d never known Linda’s affections to be so easily engaged. Still, what did she know? She’d nearly run a stranger off the road and attraction had instantly pulled at her. His smile would be devastating—if he ever bothered to cast one her way.
    “I know enough,” Linda defended and squared her shoulders. “I know I love him and that he loves me.”
    Bethany touched Linda’s arm, instantly contrite. “I only wish to share your joy, not imply he isn’t all you claim.”
    “Once you see him, you’ll understand. Laurent and his sister are all that remain of his family.” In a hushed tone, as if telling a dark secret, Linda added, “In fact, I met his sister recently, along with a friend of hers. The friend, a widow lady, has an amazing resemblance to you. It gave me quite a turn when I first laid eyes on her.”
    Startled by such a revelation, Bethany grimaced. “Poor thing.”
    “Nonsense. You’re very lovely, regardless of the set-downs and belittling delivered by your relatives. I’ve never understood why your family would want you so downtrodden.”
    “Someone must see to the running of the household and keep the coffers filled for all of the family’s activities.” Bethany pinched her lips together before puffing out a breath. “They seem almost afraid to allow me to step out of the role of the poor relative. Uncle Arthur would need to bestir himself. Simply because he has a title before his name is no cause to be high in the instep. It’s as if I owe them never-ending gratitude for giving me a home when my parents died.”
    Linda hesitated before uttering, “That’s a shame and so unfair. They are the ones who need to express gratitude to you for all you do to sustain the family.”
    Bethany laughed. “I may certainly dream of such a happening, but real life is nothing like that.”
    “I’m blessed. My family wants me to be happy. That’s why father allowed the betrothal.” Linda clasped her hands together at the side of her face. “Anyway, Laurent is a fencing master.”
    Again a slight unease stirred Bethany. With her head cocked to the side in question, she glanced at her friend. “He owns a fencing salon, is it?”
    “No, he travels from estate to estate teaching young boys how to fence and defend themselves in general. He says it’s more profitable.”
    “Does your papa cut up stiff because he’s a fencing master?” Bethany inquired with a gentle smile.
    “He’s not best pleased, but he wishes me to be happy.” Linda shrugged. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with an honorable earning of one’s bread.” With a defensive attitude, she raised her shoulders.
    A long moment of silence stretched between the young ladies. “Then, I’m delighted you’ve found your love.” Bethany gave her a hug and stepped back. “Not to change the subject from your dear, handsome betrothed, but I brought a bundle of clothing from Aunt Gertrude.”
    “That is generous of her. Let’s take it into the house.” Linda started to pick up the package.”
    “Be careful. There’s bird droppings on it. I startled the silly creature and it flew up into the tree before deliberately aiming for my bundle. I cleaned most of it off, but there might be more.”
    “I’ll come back for it later. I want to show you my gown. I’m so excited.” Linda linked arms with Bethany and entered the cottage. “You’ll meet Laurent at the ball.”
    “What ball?” Apprehension quaked through Bethany. She didn’t like the sound of such a grand occasion where her family would have the opportunity to belittle her before a crowd. Her muscles tensed and she shrugged to loosen the knot between her shoulders.
    “The earl’s ball. I’ve been invited. So have you.”
    “I have no such invitation.” Bethany shook her head. “You must be mistaken. Not being out in social circles often, I still know enough to recognize a cut-direct when I receive one. I’ll not attend a party in the house of such a