The Lass Who Kissed a Frog, Lee, Caroline [i have read the book a hundred times .txt] 📗

to stand behind where Vanessa sat and placing her hands on her shoulders. “Ye’re still mourning.”

It had taken some time, because Vanessa kept breaking down, but over the last week, she’d told Bonnie everything which had transpired on her ill-fated mission to Fangfoss Manor. Everything, including how she’d met “Monsieur Grenouille,” the way he’d made her feel, and even the kiss.

Days later, even with a broken heart, she was still thinking of that kiss.

She reached up to pat her sister’s hand and tried to smile. “I’m still feeling guilty.”

“About what ye said?” Scoffing, Bonnie pulled at her shoulders until Vanessa twisted around in her seat. “I’ve told ye before that, aye, ye should apologize for yer words about the heir, but what Roland did in revenge was—”

“No’ that.” Vanessa shook her head and dropped her gaze to her lap, where she watched her fingers pluck idly at the fabric of her gray gown. In the last week, she just couldn’t seem to bring herself to wear her bright colors. Perhaps it was part of her new goal: to worry less about herself and more about others. “I ken I got what I deserved, thanks to what I said.” She shook her head. “Nay, but I am sorry I wasnae able to fetch the sphaera for ye. I was so certain I could find it, and ye’d be able to sell it to Phineas for enough money to buy Mr. Grimm’s publishing house!”

Bonnie scoffed again as she sank to a crouch in front of Vanessa and took her hands. “It’s no’ yer fault, Vanessa. When ye saw it, the site was only half-excavated. It was likely they moved the excavations in that direction and found it no’ long after ye did.” She squeezed her hands until Vanessa looked up, and Bonnie smiled softly. “I’m beyond grateful ye were willing to undergo such an adventure just to help me, and I’m so, so sorry I couldnae stop Mother from barging in here and learning ye were gone.”

Vanessa’s smile was a little watery when she squeezed Bonnie’s hands in return. “No apology is necessary. It was likely an ill thought-out plan in the first place.”

“Perhaps.” Bonnie’s smile grew. “But it was selfless and special, and I love ye all the more for it.”

“I love ye too,” whispered Vanessa, just as a call from down the hall had them both turning in the direction of the door.

“Girls!” screeched their mother again, as she skidded to a stop in their doorway. “Vanessa! What in the world are ye wearing?”

Glancing down at herself, Vanessa shrugged. “My gray gown, Mother.”

“Well, it’s hideous. Ye’re hideous in it. Ye’re pale and washed out, and what is that—a bun? Ye wrapped yer hair in a bun and thought that would be acceptable?”

She tsked as she stepped into the room, but Bonnie—her jaw set stubbornly, and her hair also wrapped in a simple bun of course—stood and placed herself in front of Vanessa.

“I think she looks lovely, Mother.”

“That’s because ye dinnae have a fashionable bone in yer body,” the baroness said dismissively, peering around her at Vanessa. “My darling Vanessa does, but this—this?” She clucked her tongue. “I cannae believe I’m saying this, but it’ll have to do. He insisted he wouldnae be kept waiting.”

“It?” blurted Bonnie indignantly at the same moment Vanessa whispered, “Him?”

True to form, Mother ignored Bonnie and flapped her hand impatiently at Vanessa. “Him, lass, him! The Viscount Blah-blah-blah is downstairs, insisting on seeing ye.”

Roland? Roland was here?

Mother, of course, knew nothing about Roland being the man who’d accompanied her to York, disguised or not. She was likely ecstatic about a viscount calling. In fact, the older woman clasped her hands together and sighed happily.

“My efforts have finally paid off, dear Vanessa. It is clear the viscount didn’t hear any rumors about yer idiotic disappearance, or he wouldnae still be willing to court ye!”

The sisters exchanged a glance.

“Perhaps he isnae here to court her,” Bonnie suggested quietly.

“Dinnae be stupid, of course he is,” snapped Mother. “He’s insisting on being allowed to see her, and that sounds verra much like a man about to make a declaration, does it no’?”

Aye, a declaration of some sort.

Had he returned to humiliate her further? To declare to the world what kind of woman she really was? To start rumors about where she’d been and what she’d done last week?

From the expression in Bonnie’s eyes, her sister was worried about the same thing.

Well, one thing was for certain, this would be Vanessa’s chance to offer the apology she should’ve offered all those weeks ago.

With a deep breath, she stood and smoothed her palms over her skirts. There was a part of her, the old part, which wished she’d had the chance now to change into a more flattering gown, or at least to create an elaborate hairstyle. But the new Vanessa acknowledged Roland had already seen her at her worst, so looking her best wasn’t going to help at all.

Bonnie’s hand found hers, and Vanessa twined her fingers through her sister’s, grateful for the support. “Lead on then,” she whispered, and did her best to hold her head high as they descended to the family’s parlor.

But when she stepped into the room, her steps faltered. Only Bonnie’s hand in hers, like a lifeline, kept her from backing out when Roland turned from where he was standing in front of the cold fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back.

He smiled at her, just once, and Vanessa felt her heart leap.

Hungrily, her gaze caressed him, noting how much more like himself he looked now that he’d shaved his beard. His hazel eyes looked more brown than green today, and his hair was combed immaculately. He wore a blue jacket over a subtly patterned waistcoat, and below that…

Vanessa’s lips tugged wryly at the sight of Roland’s knees. He was wearing the Oliphant plaid, fashioned into a much-more formal kilt than the one he’d worn on their journey.

“Miss Vanessa, Miss Bonnie,” he offered calmly, his expression