A Grave Inheritance

I blinked against the onslaught of sunlight. Returning to the bed, she sat down next to me, and I scooted over to make more room. Though she wore the usual gray wool gown, her appearance looked altered. Her hair had been styled a little softer than normal, but even that change wasn’t enough to explain the difference. Then I noticed her face.

 

“You’re glowing with happiness. Did something happen this morning or are you still walking on clouds from the play?”

 

She released a dreamy sigh. “Last night was the most wonderful night of my entire life.”

 

“What did you think of Justine Rose?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Was she everything you expected?”

 

“Everything and more,” Nora laughed. “It doesn’t seem right that one woman should possess so many talents. Not only can she act and sing, she’s smart as a whip. If I didn’t like her so much, I would surely hate her.”

 

Fair or not, I already did, and only partially for her attempt to seduce Henry from the stage last night. They may not have consummated their relationship, but a niggling jealousy still ate at me for the other intimacies that allowed her to look at him so knowingly.

 

“Did you get your fill of the theater,” I asked, a slight strain in my voice, “or will we be sneaking out again? I for one would be in favor of seeing Tom Thumb at the Haymarket.”

 

Nora fell silent and started fidgeting while she thought. In between her fingers I caught a glimpse of something peach curled into her palm. “Selah,” she said at last, drawing my attention upward. “Have you ever dreamed of doing something really crazy?”

 

Dreaming was hardly necessary—my life embodied the very essence of crazy. “Like what?” I asked.

 

She looked at me, all the previous mirth gone from her face. “Like becoming an actress.”

 

My eyes grew wide. “On the stage?” I asked aghast. “In front of an audience?”

 

Nora laughed outright. “Where else would I mean?”

 

“I get butterflies just playing the harpsichord for anyone other than you. Why would I ever want to perform on a stage?”

 

“I don’t know. Maybe because it would be amazing.” She paused for a moment. “And because I’ve dreamed of becoming an actress for as long as I can remember.”

 

“Be serious, your childhood dream was to run off and join a pirate crew like your grandfather. And once you were captain, you promised I could be first mate.”

 

Nora gave me a wry smile. “Well, being an actress was always a close second.”

 

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” I snorted with amusement. “Please, tell me you’re jesting.”

 

“No, I’m not,” she snapped, “so you can stop laughing.”

 

The sharp tone caught me by surprise, and I winced inside from just how much I had misjudged her mood. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made fun.”

 

She shrugged one shoulder. “I understand we’re not children anymore, Selah. And I honestly thought I was over the notion until you bribed me with a trip to the theater if I came to London. And then last night, when I was watching Justine, I realized how much I wanted to be on stage.” Her eyes turned imploring. “Be honest. Selah. What do you think?”

 

“I think that you would be brilliant,” I said, speaking slowly as I considered my next words. “And that you can’t be both a Quaker and an actress. The elders would never allow it.”

 

“I know, it’s impossible and preposterous all tied into one. My family would disown me and I would never be able to step foot in Hopewell again.” She sighed. “I shall put it from my mind.”

 

She was still fidgeting, so I reached over and opened her hand. A satin rosette pin rested in her palm. She looked at the pin and her face lit up. “Some girls were selling them as keepsakes for Justine Rose. James purchased this one for me.”

 

“How very gallant of him,” I said, even managing to sound sincere. Maybe the troll had a heart after all.

 

A blush crept up her neck into her cheeks. “Yes, he is gallant.”

 

Alarm brought me upright. “You’re blushing! Is there something going on between you two?” Their friendship already pricked like a bur beneath my skin. Anything more would feel as though I had been tossed headfirst into a sticker bush.

 

“Of course not.” Nora jumped to her feet. “Andrew and Jane Saxby offered to take me and Mother on a tour of St. Paul’s Cathedral this morning. They have promised to say nothing of the theater and to pretend that we met yesterday when they came over to visit with Cate after Mother went to bed. You are welcome to join us if you like, though I assume you would rather have the time alone with Henry.”

 

The mere mention of Henry’s name made me falter. My blood boiled anew each time I recalled last night’s events, both the insult and the rejection. “He’s busy today,” I said, while mentally cursing him for a prat.

 

“Then why don’t you get dressed and come with us? After St. Paul’s we are to have a picnic in the park. This may be the last nice days until springtime.”

 

Having to be sociable with anyone other than Nora seemed intolerable at the moment. “You’ll need to go without me. I’m still a little tired from last night.”

 

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