The days fell into a kind of pattern. Regina tried to stay cautious about it all. It wouldn’t do for her to become complacent and then slip up and have the entire thing revealed to scandal.

But she couldn’t help but notice that she had a routine now.

Every morning she would dine with Aunt Jane, who would ask her how things were going. She had never revealed to Aunt Jane anything that she was doing, although it made her feel terrible to lie in such a way to a woman who was so kind to her.

Aunt Jane would give her advice anyway.

Goodness only knew if the servants were listening in at the crack of the door or the keyhole and could overhear her. Regina merely never confirmed anything.

She told Regina how to handle a snide remark at a ball, or regaled her with stories from when she was a young girl. Regina almost couldn’t believe those stories. Aunt Jane still seemed so young, despite the fact that her daughter Lady Morrison was a woman grown and had been for some time.

After breakfast, she would go over to Harrison’s house. Regina always wanted to get right to the work of gambling but Harrison would insist upon taking her to the park, or having Cora call upon friends with Regina in tow.

There were museums to go to as well, and showings, and the theatre. Regina felt as though she was getting a proper coming out rather than simply learning cards. She didn’t see much point in it. After all, what good would any of this do when it came to playing her hand right?

Yet, Harrison insisted. He said that if she was going to be in London then she was going to take advantage of the London scene. The ‘London scene’ could apparently mean the art scene, the theatre scene, or the social scene. It depended upon the day and upon how Harrison was feeling.

She couldn’t bring herself to mind these outings, not really. Cora was an excellent replacement for Bridget. No one could truly replace her sister, of course, but Cora was a close second.

They would go out together, the three of them, and Cora handled all situations with aplomb. Most people were intrigued by Lord Harrison, the mysterious Duke of Whitefern who had been all but missing from the social scene the last few years.

Between Harrison’s reputation and Cora’s social skills, people looked favorably upon Regina as well. She found that people spoke to her with respect and kindness. It was quite a new experience.

Of course, there was the guilty pleasure aspect of it all. She liked doing these activities and she gave into Harrison’s insistence because she liked that he was doing things with her.

She liked his presence. She liked how he pointed things out to her in paintings or in plays that she wouldn’t have otherwise noticed. She liked that he seemed to care for all of her. Not just the parts that were important for her to cultivate for learning how to play cards. All of her, all of her education and all of her confidence and all of her social life.

It felt a little like a fairy tale, only one of the nice ones with the more gruesome bits taken out for the small children. She got to explore and enter a world far different from the one she knew back home in her country house.

For once, she actually liked society. She liked the art and going for walks in the park. It was as if she hadn’t truly known the world. The balls and people that she had grown up with were suddenly and truly just one aspect of a wide, wide world. And that wide world was now hers to explore.

Of course, the traitorous part of her wondered if she should like it half so well if she was doing all of this with someone other than Harrison. But that was the part of her that she ruthlessly ignored as best she could.

Afterwards they would return to the house and then they would focus on cards. Cora would come in at some point and steal Regina away.

Cora never seemed to have a set lesson in mind. Instead she would talk to Regina, filling her in on all the gossip. As she talked she would come up with something:

“I know it looks silly but I’m going to balance a book on your head.”

“Now, notice how I’m sitting. See how I do this with my legs? It shows men you’re interested. Even if they don’t realize that is what they’re seeing and they only notice it subconsciously.”

“Now, dear, you need to master the art of saying something cutting that people cannot call you out on. It’s called passive aggressiveness and you ought to learn it now.”

Regina wasn’t entirely sure how all of this would come in handy. Why did she need to know how to insult someone without making it sound insulting?

She knew that Cora’s answer was, “So they can’t call you out on it and you get to be smug,” but seriously. Why did she have to know these things?

More specifically, how were any of these things going to help her when she was playing a card game with several men?

She didn’t protest, however. Partially because she knew that arguing with Cora was a fruitless task. Partially because she didn’t know and it might actually come in handy.

After Cora was finished with her, they would play more cards. Cora would join them for a bit of it and play against her.

Regina had quickly found that Harrison was right when he said that Cora had been going easy on her the first night when they’d all played with his friends.

Cora was ruthless. Absolutely ruthless. She knew the game backwards and forwards. She was also fairly good at reading tells—and Regina was well aware that she was still hopeless at hiding her tells.

It took everything that Regina had in her to keep up with Cora in the game. Often times, it wasn’t enough. Or at least that was how it was at first.

But as time went on, she found herself winning more and more. She had to look at Harrison less and less.

It started slowly, of course. She burst into tears of joy when she won her first game against Cora. Harrison had looked completely alarmed and had quickly pulled out a handkerchief for her to use, patting her shoulder awkwardly.

Cora had said something like, “For God’s sake,” and had found a servant to bring them all another round of tea and biscuits.

Of course, in order to find the servant, Cora had to leave the room. That must have been her design, Regina had realized later.

In the silence, she had continued to sit, feeling uncomfortable at her own outburst of emotion but safe in knowing that Harrison was not judging her for it.

“I haven’t won anything before,” she had admitted. Her voice had sounded soft and fragile. It had sounded like her voice when she was a small child.

It was more than that, of course. It was that she had never felt proud of herself for something before. It was that she had never been better than someone else at something. It was that she had never truly worked hard at something and earned it.

She had worked hard to learn how to read and to read well, and to do her needlepoint, yes. But those things were quiet, personal triumphs. No one had praised her needlework besides Bridget. And, well, Bridget praised nearly everything Regina did.

Nobody had been able to point at her and say, “Yes, you conquered this, and we have all seen it and cannot argue it.”

Now it had finally happened, some kind of validation that she hadn’t even known she was looking for, and she had been overwhelmed.

So she had found herself crying.

“I’m sorry,” she had sniffled afterwards.

Whatever dignity she’d previously had was now in tatters. She had just cried into Harrison’s handkerchief until it was soiled and wet. Like she was a child.

“What on earth are you apologizing for?” Harrison had asked. He had seemed bewildered.

At that moment, Cora had returned, leading a servant carrying a tea tray.

“You don’t have to apologize to us,” Harrison had said. He had indicated Cora as well. “We understand.”

She had wanted to ask how they could understand. How could they possibly understand when she hadn’t even said anything? Partially because she couldn’t even have explained it if she’d tried. She hadn’t had the words.

And yet—perhaps they had understood. Perhaps they had gone through something similar, whether it was with cards or something else. And so perhaps they had recognized it and understood, even though she hadn’t explained her feelings to them.

Since that night, she had started to win more often. It had happened by degrees. One win per night. Then two per night. And so on.

It was slow going. Most of the time she was terribly frustrated by it. Oftentimes Harrison or Cora had to be the one to remind her what time it was and that she should be getting home before Aunt Jane started to worry.

“I had no idea you were such a competitive one,” Harrison commented one night.

Cora snorted. It was highly inelegant and unladylike. Regina was starting to realize that Cora was an odd mix of acting like the height of sophistication and acting like an uncouth man, often at the same time.

“She was raised by Bridget Hartfield,” Cora said. “She has Elizabeth and Natalie for sisters. There was always a steel backbone somewhere in there.”

Regina didn’t know what to say to that. She was finding that she enjoyed the card playing more than she had originally thought she would. Perhaps it was because she was finally starting to get good at it.

Once she could be persuaded to stop and to go to bed and get some rest, she would return home. Aunt Jane would be up with some small snack of some kind and they would chat.

Aunt Jane would tell Regina about her day and the people that she saw and what they said. Regina would then write Bridget a letter, telling Bridget about these things as though she had experienced them with Aunt Jane.

She occasionally added in a small anecdote at the end.

I would like a man who makes me feel safe.

I would like a man with whom I can tease and banter.

I would like a man with large hands.

I would like a man with blue eyes.

She felt a little odd, writing those things in. It partially felt as though she was confessing to Bridget, telling her, in a way, of what she was getting up to.

But it wasn’t all that bad, was it? Bridget had asked her to figure out what she wanted in a husband. With Harrison’s help, Regina was slowly figuring it out.

That could only be a good thing, couldn’t it?

If only it didn’t remind her of all the things that she was trying not to notice about Harrison. The very fact that she was only calling him ‘Harrison’ in her head—even if not out loud—told her how intimately she felt towards him.

Every time she thought of what she wanted in a husband because of something Harrison did or said, it only solidified that what she really wanted… was him.

But she couldn’t have that. How could she? Despite her growing confidence, she was well aware that she was still second fiddle to her sister. The bargain that she had struck hung over her head like an axe waiting to fall.

It didn’t help that Cora thought that Regina and Harrison were already together. Her little comments, aimed to tease, only served to make the ache in Regina’s chest.

Regina refused to name that ache. She refused to speak even to herself of what it meant. Only a short time ago, she had not understood why people were so willing to suffer for others.

Now that she was starting to understand, denying that she felt that way at all felt like the only thing that could save her.

She didn’t want to end up like her father, miserable. She didn’t want to be like Cora, pining for someone even years later. Even Bridget had a childhood sweetheart that she apparently still thought of.

Regina didn’t want to be like them. She was selfish. She wanted a happy ending. She hadn’t contemplated love before, not really. What place did love have in marriage when it came down to it?

Marriage was a business for women. A career. And so that was how she had thought of it.

The idea that it might also include love… well, if it was going to, then it was going to be a happy love. She would not be someone who pined or who went miserable or who signed herself up for loss and despair.

Let others do that. Let Miss Eliza risk her ruin by spending time with a man who was dying. Let Cora refuse to go to the continent for someone who might not even remember her. Let Father sign away his life for a deck of cards because of the loss of Mother.

Regina would not be like them. She would be stoic and pragmatic. So when she began to dwell upon the affection with which Harrison looked at her, she shoved it aside. When he touched her to guide her through the city or to get her attention, she shoved the bubbling warmth in her chest aside.

When it was just the two of them playing cards and it felt like there was no one else in the world that existed…

She shoved that aside as well.

It ate up more of her thoughts than she would have thought that it did, had someone asked her. Denial took quite a lot of discipline.

There was something else that bothered her, though.

Harrison was obviously very protective of her. She had noticed this in public and in private.

At the theatre, if someone jostled her, Harrison would insinuate himself between Regina and the offender. He would all but shove them back and then glare. It was like having a territorial puppy.

When Cora made remarks about what she thought the state of their relationship was, Harrison would respond with a cutting remark of his own and a look that would have melted bone.

But part and parcel with his protectiveness seemed to come a kind of… Regina couldn’t find the right word. It wasn’t condescension. But it was like he looked at her as though she was ten instead of eighteen.

She knew that she wasn’t as old as some. She knew that Harrison had much more wisdom and experience than she did. But eighteen was considered quite a marriageable age. She had been out in society for two years, and she knew of many women her age who had married at sixteen or seventeen. Some of them were already mothers.

And while she might have many doubts about herself, Harrison was constantly reminding her of her intelligence and skills. So if he thought her so intelligent, then why did he insist on sometimes treating her like a child?

Her preoccupation was noticed by Cora at their daily lesson. Regina was starting to realize that there wasn’t much that slipped by Cora.

“Regina,” Cora said, having dropped the ‘Miss’ some time ago when Regina wasn’t paying attention. “Dear, why do I get the distinct impression that you’re not paying the slightest bit of attention to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Regina replied at once, automatically.

Cora sighed. “What did we say about the constant apologizing?”

“Right. No constant apologizing. I know.”

“Good.” Cora smiled at her. “Now, honestly, is learning about the exchange rate that boring for you?”

“No!” Regina said quickly. “I need to know this.”

“Simply because you need to know it does not mean that you enjoy learning it,” Cora replied. “Although why you must learn the exchange rate, I’m sure I don’t know.”

“You know it,” Regina pointed out.

“I am a horrible, unrepentant reprobate who might need to depend upon herself someday,” Cora replied. “You are a lovely young lady with many prospects ahead of you.”

“Not anymore,” Regina replied.

She had not forgotten the original reason that she was here. Time with Harrison and Cora might in a way feel like some kind of extended holiday but it couldn’t hide the truth. Her family was in danger.

Cora grew quiet and serious. “Yes, I know. Have your sisters found husbands yet?”

Regina shook her head. Bridget’s latest letter had detailed the updates. “Bridget told me that Elizabeth is apparently warming to Mr. Denny, or so she tells Bridget. Louisa and Mr. Fairchild are doing their best to work things out but they are still frozen until his aunt passes.”

“And has Natalie selected someone?”

Regina pulled a face. It was something she would never have dared to do in polite society but around Cora such things came slipping out, as they did when she was with Bridget.

“She has managed to narrow it down. I believe Bridget is finding the difficulty is in Natalie’s ability to actually engage a man beyond the first flirtations.”

“Ah, yes, actually discussing matters of substance and finding there is more to a potential marriage than subtle innuendos,” Cora said. She gave a small smile, as though remembering flirtations of her own.

“I worry about her,” Regina confessed. It felt odd, to worry about Natalie. Natalie had any number of suitors. Theroetically she should be fine.

Yet Regina couldn’t quite shake the feeling of concern.

“As you should.” Cora sighed and tossed aside her papers. It seemed she had realized they wouldn’t get any further in her planned lesson that day.

“Natalie—well. Suffice to say, you’re actually in a better position than she is.”

“How do you mean? Everyone loves Natalie. Nobody even thinks about me.”

Around Harrison and Cora, she had become used to speaking her words when she normally would only have thought them. They seemed to appreciate her speaking out.

“We want to know what exactly is going on in that pretty head of yours,” Harrison had told her once.

Cora gave another little sigh. “Well. The thing is, you don’t interact with many people, do you? You keep to yourself.”

“Yes.” Everybody knew that.

“But when you do interact, you make a point to know the person. You listen to them.”

“That is only because I’m scared to talk to them.”

“Perhaps. But it means that you do a great deal of listening, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose,” Regina admitted.

“And that means you get to know them rather well. People like to have that kind of validation. Especially men. They like it when they find a woman who will properly listen to them.

“I rather suspect that it’s because they spend so much time talking over each other that most of what they want in a spouse is someone who will support them. Someone who they know is on their side and won’t try to one-up them, so to speak.

“But in any case, you’re a good listener. You never try to insult anybody.”

“You cannot be serious. You’ve heard my big mouth.”

“Yes, but you aren’t trying to be rude. People can tell. You go an alarming shade of pink afterwards and they realize straightaway that you didn’t mean it.”

“That doesn’t help me when it comes to society. They’re quite willing to not forgive my faux pas.”

“Yes, but I’m sure a man would be willing to forgive those more easily than Natalie’s flirting,” Cora pointed out. “Anyone who talks about you probably knows that underneath it all, you’re a sweet girl. Not even underneath it all. Just in general.”

Regina felt herself blushing and quickly ducked her head down. “Thank you,” she said.

That was another thing that she was learning how to do: accept compliments. She was still inclined to believe that they weren’t true but Harrison and Cora… all right, Harrison especially, was determined to rid her of the habit.

Cora reached over and gently took Regina’s chin in her hands, lifting it up. “Now, Natalie, on the other hand, plays with men. She uses them to boost herself up. To make herself feel better.

“Men can sense that. You would be a loving wife. A devoted wife. You would validate them. That’s all that we want. Someone who validates us and sees us for who we truly are. Natalie uses men for herself instead of truly learning about who they are.

“And because of that, no man will truly want to be interested in her. Not until she learns to actually care about them. Only then will they actually care about her.”

Regina thought about that. “When I am playing cards,” she said slowly, “In order to distract people, should I act like Natalie?”

“If you want them to know that you’re only flirting and nothing more, yes,” Cora replied. “Now, was that what was bothering you? Your family? How is Bridget?”

Cora was always especially concerned for Bridget. That made sense to Regina. Bridget had been Cora’s childhood friend, not the others.

“Bridget seems to be holding up well. She has yet to choose a husband herself. I believe she is busy worrying over Natalie’s state.”

Regina failed to add that Bridget wouldn’t get to choose a husband. Her husband had already been chosen for her. Regina wondered if she would ever stop feeling guilty over that.

“Then what troubles you? If it isn’t that?”

Regina sighed. “I fear that shall sound like a child.”

“Nonsense.” Cora let out a huff. “I do not understand why you continue to see yourself as so young. I blame Harrison.”

“He sees me as a child?” Regina asked.

“No, not exactly,” Cora replied. “It is only that he is very protective of you and I think that you want to be taken seriously by him. Is that so?”

Regina nodded. She couldn’t deny it when it was so blatantly the truth.

“Well, when we are with someone with whom we feel a little in awe, and we want to impress them, it’s natural that we should always feel a bit childish. Especially if there is an age gap.”

“I suppose,” Regina replied. This was a nice side turn into the thing that had been preoccupying her. “I am a little in awe of him, I admit. I know that he is eight years older and that he has many experiences that I do not.

“But he also irks me. He treats me as a child at times and it frustrates me. He tells me on the one hand that I am intelligent and capable. Then, with the other hand, he handles me as though I am made of glass.”

Cora gave a soft laugh. “It is because he cares for you.”

“I know that I am as a sister to him—”

Cora had just reached for her cup of tea to take a sip. Right as Regina had said that, Cora had sipped, and upon hearing Regina’s words she choked on her tea.

She coughed and spluttered in a most unladylike manner, before laughing again, harder this time. “You think that he thinks of you as a sister? After all—”

Regina could not take it anymore. “Cora, we are not together in that way. We never have been. We simply went along with the lie to hide the real reason for our acquaintance.”

Cora stared at her. “And what is the real reason?”

Regina partially regretted her hasty words but it was too late to take them back now. She couldn’t think of another lie that would suffice. And she was so tired of Cora’s comments and her thinking that Regina was breaking even more of society’s rules than she already was.

“You know of the unfortunate position that my sisters and I have been put into.”

Cora nodded.

“Well, coming up soon Lord and Lady Morrison are hosting a masquerade ball. They have it every year. People like to take advantage of the crowd and the masks to do things that they otherwise can’t or shouldn’t.”

“Yes,” Cora said, her lips twitching upwards. “I am well aware of the indulgences of the masquerade ball.”

Regina took a deep breath. “Well, there are always card games there. And where there are card games, there is Lord Pettifer. I could not get away with it at any other time, but with my mask… I could play with the men. They do not know who I am. Everyone else is bending the rules.”

“You mean to win your fortune back from him,” Cora breathed out, her voice a mixture of shock and awe.

Regina nodded. “Yes. That is the plan. That is why I took the bold chance and wrote to Lord Harrison.”

“That’s why he’s so obsessed with training you at cards.” Cora made a scathing noise. “I am such a fool. To think that he was only training you for his own amusement. I should have known that there was a larger game afoot.”

“We took care that nobody should know,” Regina replied. “You are the only person who knows the truth now. Aside from Harrison and myself, of course.”

“And you were willing to let all of us think you a fallen woman rather than reveal the truth to us?” Cora seemed aghast.

“What else was I to do?” Regina replied. “If you and the others knew, then you might somehow let it slip to someone else. Then that someone else would let it slip, and so on. I could not dare risk Lord Pettifer finding out the truth.”

“You risked everything of yourself, did you know that, Regina?” Cora said. “You could—if one of us had slipped up or someone else—there are so many ways that this could have gotten out. I mean, the wrong truth, the lie, could have gotten out.”

“But that would have only ruined me!” Regina protested. “Don’t you see? I would have been ruined. Me. Only me. If the truth of what I was doing got out, then Lord Pettifer would never play me. I would have no chance to save my family.”

“You would risk yourself so that your family might have a chance. And you might not even win the card game.”

“All my life I have done nothing. I have had no convictions. Finally I have something over which I feel strongly. Something that I know I can do. Something that makes me honestly want to get up in the mornings.”

“It is something that you would destroy yourself over.”

“And why do you not go to the continent?” Regina replied.

It was a bit of a low blow. Cora went pale.

Regina plowed onward.

“You could go to France. You would be quite welcome there. But you do not. You risk yourself as well, Cora. We all are willing to do stupid things for love.

“Perhaps my love is for my family and not for a lover. That I will allow. But does that make it any less strong or any less significant? Does that make it, in some way, less than? I do not think so.”

“Miss Regina,” Cora said slowly, “You have more of a backbone than most of the men that I know.”

Regina blushed, curling into herself a little and looking away from Cora. She suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed by her outburst. This was why she was not fit for polite society.

“I apologize. My behavior just now was… rather uncalled for. I am sorry if I have offended you.”

“Do not apologize,” Cora said. Her voice was soft and understanding. “I am rather in awe of you and your choices. I do not know a half a dozen people who could be so brave as all that.”

“It feels more foolhardy than brave,” Regina admitted.

“Often times, I have found, they are the same thing.” Cora smiled gently. “I don’t blame you.”

Then she straightened and stood up. “Harrison, however, is about to get an earful.”

“What?” Regina sat up. “Oh, no, Cora, don’t—”

It was too late. Cora was sweeping out the door and yelling for Harrison. Her tone clearly stated that he might not survive their encounter.

Regina, once again, wondered if the floor could just swallow her up.