Charity, the middle sister, seemed the least concerned to see me. She was too interested in hovering by the door, checking the vicinity. No doubt she was looking for Cyclops, whom she'd taken quite a shine to.
"Is our cousin in?" Hope asked Miss Glass. "My sister wishes to speak with him."
Patience sat with her feet together and her hands in her lap. She bowed her head, a picture of demure respectability. It was almost impossible to think of her having a dalliance, let alone having one with a scoundrel.
"He's out," Miss Glass said. "What did you want to speak to him about, Patience?"
"A…a private matter," Patience stammered.
"Speak louder, girl, I can hardly hear you."
"A private matter regarding…" Her face flushed and she lowered her head further.
"Regarding an arrangement between them," Charity said, finally taking a seat. "For goodness sake, Patience, just say it. She's not going to attack you."
Hope pressed her lips together but didn't completely smother her snicker. It was only then that I realized Charity was referring to me.
"I…I'm not even sure there is an arrangement," Patience said.
"Of course there is," Hope said. "Mama made it clear last night."
"I'd rather hear it from Matt himself so that there's no mistake. It seems…unlikely." She blinked red, swollen eyes at me.
My heart pinched and I looked away. I didn't want to feel sympathy for her, yet I did. Like me, her fiancé had thrown her to the wolves without a care for her wellbeing. It was cruel, and I couldn't blame her for clutching at the lifeline offered now.
Patience cleared her throat. "Do you and Matt have an arrangement, India?"
I gripped the edge of the sofa, digging my nails into the upholstery. A thick blanket of silence enveloped us, stifling me. It was difficult to take a full breath.
"We are not engaged," I managed to say.
A collective sigh of relief banished the silence.
"There!" Hope declared. "See. He's free to marry you, Patience. All is well."
Patience chewed the inside of her lip. "Well…if you're sure, India."
"Of course she's sure," Miss Glass snipped off. "Matthew is a Glass, the heir to the Rycroft title. It's time he married and married well. You're a good match, Patience. Don't let anyone allow you to think otherwise." She shot a glare at Hope. "India is not at all suitable for Matthew. They both know it. You have nothing to worry about on that score."
"Our mother says the same thing," Patience said. "But I wanted to make sure first. If you say there is nothing between you, India, then I'll feel better."
"She already said they're not engaged," Charity blurted out, throwing up her hands. "For goodness’ sake, Patience, just accept that he's going to marry you. Forget that boring Cox. Matt is a much better catch."
Patience gave a small nod. "I know. I'd be honored to be his wife." She smiled, but it withered when she turned to me, and she once again dipped her head.
"Since Patience will now be marrying Matt," Hope said with a tilt of her chin, "it seems appropriate that you no longer live here, India. I do hope you understand. We have nothing against you. You seem kind, and as devoted as a pet, but it just wouldn't be decorous anymore."
I wished I'd had the strength in my legs to walk out. I really should have. Better yet, I wished I'd ordered her out of the house.
"India stays here," Miss Glass snapped. "She is my companion."
"But Aunt Letitia." Hope's soothing voice and big eyes did an excellent job at imploring. I imagined it worked on her parents and paramours quite well. "You must see how awkward it is with her here. Think of Patience."
"Do stop, Hope," Patience said with effort. "I don't mind if she stays. Honestly."
"Be quiet, Patience. You don't know what's good for you."
Miss Glass's nostrils flared, her spine stiffened. "India is not leaving, and that is final."
Hope sniffed. "We'll see what Father has to say."
Cyclops wandered in and stopped when he spotted our visitors. For a long moment he stood without moving, as if he couldn't decide whether to stay or go and so did nothing. In the end, his manners won out and he greeted the Glass sisters politely.
Charity sprang up from her chair and grasped his arm. She dragged him across the room and ordered him to sit on the sofa then squeezed herself between Cyclops and Patience, forcing her sister aside. Cyclops squashed himself into the corner, taking up far less space than a man his size ought.
"I'm so glad you're here," Charity gushed. "Your company is sorely needed today."
"It is?" He glanced over her head at me. I merely shrugged one shoulder.
"Everyone is such a bore," she whispered.
Hope rolled her eyes. "We can hear you."
Cyclops cleared his throat. "I should go."
"No!" Charity clutched his arm again and leaned into him. "Do stay a little longer. Talk to me. Tell me about yourself. Your life must be thrilling."
He leaned away and stared owlishly at her through his one good eye. "Not that thrilling."
"It must be! You can't look like a pirate then tell me you sit inside reading books all day." She pulled a face. "That would be awfully disappointing."
"Actually, that's all I do." He cleared his throat. "I sit in Matt's library and read. I read everything. I hate the outdoors." She drew back. Sensing an opportunity to escape, Cyclops warmed to his theme. "There's too much…dirt outside. And fresh air. I prefer stale air and cleanliness."
"But the scar…"
"A childhood accident. My mother dropped me as a baby."
I bit my lip to stop my smile.
"And your size." Charity squeezed his shoulder and giggled. "You're so big and strong. You must be an excellent fighter."
"Charity!" Patience scolded. "Restrain yourself."
"Why should I?" Charity snapped at her older sister. "You didn't."
Patience blushed fiercely and stared down at her folded hands.
"I'm not that strong," Cyclops said. "In fact, I'm a coward. I hate fighting. It hurts. And being big means I scare people without meaning to. Do you know what it's like to pick up your baby niece and she starts crying? No matter how many times I play peekaboo, she won't stop. It breaks my heart." He pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm very sensitive. Some say too sensitive. I even cry. A lot."
I tried hard to hold back my laugh, but it escaped as a choke. Poor Cyclops was trying, but Charity seemed more enthused than ever. Telling her that he cried only made her click her tongue and coo at him as if he were a child.
She slid even closer to him, crushing her skirt against his thigh. "So you don't like fisticuffs, but what about knives? Do you carry one? How big is it? Can I see it?"
Her questions shot like bullets, forcing Cyclops to lean back inch by inch with each one. The poor man needed rescuing, and I was only too happy to leave as well.
"Excuse me," I said, "I've just remembered I have something to do in the library. Cyclops—"
"Be glad to help! You know how much I love libraries and books, India. I can't stay away." He extricated himself from Charity's clutches and followed me out. "Thank you," he whispered. "I thought I'd be trapped in there for the rest of the morning."