“Eight gentlemen,” Eve continued, “and something’s been not quite right with every single one of them.”
“Oh, they’ve been all right,” said Azalea, wiggling her toes. She could see a bit of pink through the torn seam. These past few weeks had been a flurry of activity, with dukes and counts and even a viceroy arriving in very fine carriages. Viscount Scantlebury had even helped her look—unsuccessfully—for the sugar teeth in the cellar, and Sir Dietrich had actually been interesting to talk to. Azalea thought they were all nice—though not in a heart-twisting, breath-catching way. “They’ve all been awfully polite,” she said, as though to make up for not fancying them.
“You’re only saying that,” said Bramble, “because you’re too nice. We’ve found plenty of problems with them. Eve?”
Eve brought out a folded piece of stationery with the gentlemen’s names on it, and scrawled ink comments next to each one.
“Duke Orlington.”
“Had a wince. Next.”
“Baron Rosenthal.”
“Ha! He ate more than Ivy!”
“Oh, really,” said Azalea. “That’s not a good reason to discount—”
“Marquis DeLange,” Eve continued.
“Ugh, he was shorter than all of us!”
“That’s not—” said Azalea, but then changed her mind. It, actually, was.
“Anyway, the point is,” said Bramble, waving Eve’s piece of stationery away and smoothing her skirts primly over the marble. “None of them have been good enough for you.”
“Azalea,” said Delphinium. She sat on the marble across from Azalea, and leaned in to whisper, resting her elbows on the floor. “What about…you know…”
Azalea immediately colored, thinking of a gentleman with soft brown eyes.
“Keeper,” Delphinium finished. She bit her lip and looked around, her light blue eyes flickering with fear, as though afraid Keeper might have heard, then turned back to Azalea with a devilish sort of grin.
“Keeper?” said Azalea. “No, thank you!”
But the girls all now had wicked little grins across their faces, and Azalea cringed. She recognized those looks, and they said “merciless teasing.” Azalea had put up with quite a bit of that for the past several weeks, as the gardens turned from greens and purples to golds and reds and yellows. While the younger girls fought for seats next to the gentlemen at the dinner table, Delphinium drew pictures of what Azalea’s children would look like if she married them, and Bramble kicked her under the table to make her squeak.
“Keeper,” Bramble said in a syrupy voice, grinning. “Have you met anyone so blasted handsome?”
“Hush,” said Azalea through her teeth. “He can probably hear you!”
“And so dashing,” said Bramble, though her tone was a touch lower.
“And so perfect.”
“I’ve never seen anyone with such…fingers,” said Goldenrod.
Everyone paused.
“Well, yes, his fingers, too,” said Bramble. She stood with a flourish and made the other girls get up, forming a ring around Azalea. Azalea groaned. This was a parlor-game dance, one where the person in the middle was the ball, and the girls “threw” her to each other, each with something to say.
“So suppose Azalea finds the sugar teeth after all,” said Bramble, taking Azalea by the shoulders and spinning her. Azalea rolled her eyes but obliged, and let her feet turn beneath her. A slight push, and Azalea spun to Delphinium.
“She breaks them,” said Delphinium, catching Azalea and pushing her to Hollyhock in a spin, a ball with skirts.
“Snap!” said Hollyhock.
Azalea flinched. Hollyhock fumbled to spin her to Bramble again.
“And in a burst of fireworks, he emerges from the passage! Burst!”
She pushed Azalea to Eve. Eve stopped Azalea from spinning, and paused.
“What then, though?” she said. “Keeper can’t have anywhere to go.”
“Well,” said Bramble, her grin fading. “I suppose he’ll try to court and marry Az. He likes her best.”
Azalea paused, wondering how it would feel to be pressed up against Keeper, his long fingers cradling her head, his lips touching hers. If he kissed as well as he danced…
Her face burned like mad. She cast a fervid glance at the entrance, praying Keeper couldn’t see her.
“He arrives at the palace doors, on a fine black horse,” Delphinium prompted, picking up Bramble’s lost thread, and Eve spun her again, “silver flowers in his hand—”
“And the King opens the door—” squeaked Flora, who caught Azalea.
And then, everyone stopped. Azalea’s skirts twisted, then settled. It occurred to all of them what would happen next.
“And boxes Keeper straight in the face,” Azalea finished.
Everyone managed to giggle, though it was true. Azalea shook her head, smiling.
“Well,” said Eve as they gathered the sleeping girls up from their cushions. “It would be odd if you married him anyway.”