Free A Lady's Vanishing Choices by Wareeze Woodson Page A

high-stickler, conceited, shall I say, gentleman.” Burning with humiliation at the remembered slight, she clenched her fists. Perhaps his ill manners were a good thing. Being angry with him was safer than attraction.
    “Of course you are invited. I heard Perry tell my father you would attend.”
    “This is the first I’ve heard of it. Even with an invitation, I shall not attend. After such a set-down, I can’t imagine he included me in the invitation. Besides, I’d be forced to wear one of Aunt Gertrude’s refurbished gowns.”
    “That’s intolerable, I’ll admit.” Linda grimaced. “But you would face down anything that comes your way and you know it. You must come. I want you to meet Laurent.”
    Dread hovered over Bethany. She didn’t wish to disappoint her friend, but attending the ball would be a sacrifice. “Oh, Linda. You know I find it hard to refuse you.” Fighting to keep the reluctance from her voice, she agreed, “If my uncle will allow me to attend, I shall, but only to meet your beau. Though I don’t know how you shall look him in the face and introduce a dowdy as your friend.”
    “Nonsense. I’m proud to call you friend.” Linda rolled her eyes. “And such a friend. If you don’t believe me, wait and see. Even in a cast-off gown, you shall outshine all the others.”
    Bethany held up her hand. “Don’t throw the hammer at me. I shall attend, if possible, but that is all I’ll agree to do. Now I’m ready for you to overwhelm me with this breathtaking new gown.”
    “Posh. This won’t take long, and besides, I wanted to show you a new way to arrange your hair instead of your usual knot.” Linda’s tone disparaged that choice. “If you would make the least effort, you would be more than splendid.”
    “Thank you, Linda. I don’t truly have the time today. Let me peek at your gown. I shall let you show me this new style in a few days. I promise.” Bethany followed Linda into her room where her gown lay on the bed.
    Bethany caught her breath at the fine, white satin underdress to be worn beneath a soft pick gauze over-gown. Love knots of ribbons were placed all about the hem and puffed sleeves. “Oh, Linda, it is truly lovely. You’ll be the belle of the ball, I dare say.”
    “If only Laurent thinks so,” Linda sighed and smoothed the folds of her dress with loving fingers.
    “I’d best hurry or I shall be late. Come, walk me to the door.”
    Bethany and Linda went well past the door, all the way to the gate. Reluctant to end the conversation, the girls stood talking. After several minutes, Bethany inched away and turned to leave.
    The rumble of wheels and the wild snorting of a horse drew her attention. She glanced in the direction of the noise and froze at the sight of a gig drawn by an out-of-control horse heading directly towards her. The rattle of boards as the wheels swiped against the fence snapped her out of her immobility. Too late. The wild-eyed horse thudded into her. Before the animal sent her flying, a blast of warm air from its distended nostrils exploded against her face. The impact knocked the breath out of her, and her chest burned like fire while she sailed through empty space.
    Linda’s scream echoed in Bethany’s head when the horse knocked her out of the path of the run-away gig. The vehicle swayed away from Bethany before leaving a cloud of dust in the road swirling into her face.
    Bethany lay winded from the harsh thump. Grit crunched between her clenched teeth and her head whirled. She tried to scramble to her feet, but only gained her knees when a curricle pulled off the road beside her.
    Lord Rivton swiftly reached her side. “How badly are you injured?”
    She struggled to rise on her elbows. A sudden bout of weakness assailed her and nausea clogged her throat.
    “With your permission, let me help you sit.”
    Thankful for any support, even from this antagonistic gentleman, she accepted his offer with a nod. After her agreement, he slid his arm