The Education of Bet (19 page)

I lifted my skirts slightly so I wouldn't trip over them in the unfamiliar shoes—boots were really so much more comfortable to walk in!—and hurried on.

***

Marchand Hall didn't look at all like it usually did. For one thing, there were not five hundred boys chattering loudly as they threw dinner rolls at one another's heads. For another, the tables we usually dined at had been removed, leaving the space wide open for dancing, which was already going on to the accompaniment of the waltzes provided by musicians in one corner. Along the far wall, where Dr. Hunter usually sat, a table had been set up for refreshments. And there was one other big difference: there were a lot of young ladies in the room.

And yes, not one but
two
of those young ladies were meaty and bore a striking resemblance to Hamish! It was amazing to think that something I had imagined had some resemblance to reality.

After all my planning, now that I was here I was suddenly nervous. Yes, I was here as Will Gardener's sister. But I wasn't supposed to have met anyone before. So I couldn't very well approach Little, who was standing nervously by the refreshments table. And I certainly didn't want to approach Hamish and Mercy, who appeared to be making nuisances of themselves around one girl while Hamish's sisters hovered nearby. And I certainly, absolutely could not approach James, who looked heartachingly handsome and who was alone in another corner, scanning the room for something. All I could do was stand in my own corner, nervously tapping my foot to the music, a gay smile plastered on my face as though I were having the time of my life, trying to act as though I had a companion who had merely been called away for a moment but who would soon return.

"Miss Gardener?"

I almost jumped at the sound of James's voice. Up close, I saw, he was even more handsome than he'd been from across the room.

"Yes?" I forced my tone to sound as though I had no clue as to who he might be. With horror, I realized I'd used my Will voice and prayed James hadn't noticed it in that one syllable.

"I am James Tyler," he said, "your brother's roommate. He asked me if I would look out for you this evening since he has fallen ill."

"I know," I said, making sure to sound like a girl this time. "He had a message sent to the inn."

Before we could speak any further, we were interrupted by Hamish, who had apparently shaken off his sisters for the time being. "You must be Gardener's twin!" he said. "I'd know that face anywhere."

"The resemblance is remarkable," James observed.

"I must say, though," Hamish said, "the face looks a lot better on you than it does on your brother." He held out his arms. "Care for a dance?"

I couldn't think of anything I would care to do less.

"She doesn't want to dance with you," Mercy said, joining us, arms outstretched. "I'm sure she'd rather dance with me."

And now I
could
think of something I'd care to do less. Really, the idea of being waltzed around the room by either of them was too unbearable.

"I am afraid I will have to decline both invitations," I forced myself to say sweetly. "For with two of you to choose from, how can I possibly decide?"

"You should have waited till after I'd had my turn." Hamish clouted his friend on the shoulder.

Mercy's hand moved to rub the spot where he'd been hit. "How was I supposed to know?"

As they argued their way over to another girl, James turned to me.

"You handled that very well, Miss Gardener. In fact, I don't think your own brother could have managed any better."

"Oh, really?" I laughed. "You mean Will regularly has to fend off unwelcome dancing partners too?"

James studied me before speaking. "You're very like him, you know."

"Well, we are twins, after all."

"Obviously," he said. "But I don't mean just that. There's something..."

"Are you ready for a dance now?" Hamish was back, this time without Mercy.

"Not quite." I forced the smile to remain on my face until he departed.

A moment later, I saw one of Hamish's sisters tap him insistently on the shoulder. Grudgingly, he held his arms out for a dance. Then the other sister tapped insistently on Mercy's shoulder, and he too consented with little grace. I watched for a time as the girls led Hamish and Mercy around the room. It was rather fun seeing Hamish and Mercy get pushed around for once, particularly by a pair of girls.

"You know," James said, "it is a dance. You're supposed to dance with people."

Yes, I did know that. But there was only one person there I wanted to dance with. Really, it was the only reason I had come.

"Perhaps," I said, realizing even as I spoke that it was the most flirtatious thing I'd ever said in my life, "I'm just waiting for the right person to ask."

"Well, until that happens, will I do? At the very least, it will keep Hamish and Mercy away from you for a time."

How could a girl refuse an offer like that?

I allowed him to tuck my hand into the crook of his elbow, lead me out onto the floor. I felt him take one of my hands in his, felt him place the other hand at my waist.

In my whole life, no one had ever touched me like that.

I wanted to close my eyes and give in to the moment, but I couldn't do that. Supposedly, I had known him for only a few minutes. He would think I was insane. So instead:

"Do you know how to dance, Mr. Tyler?"

"I think I can manage a waltz without doing you any bodily harm," he said, launching us.

"That makes one of us, then," I said, attempting to follow his lead.

"You don't dance?"

"Not regularly, no," I said, keeping my eyes on my feet, "although I appear to be doing so now."

"I thought all girls liked to dance."

It was a while before I responded. I was finding it challenging to dance and talk at the same time.

"I did not say I didn't like to," I finally said, looking up. "I said it wasn't an activity I regularly engaged in. And anyway, how can you assume all girls like to do one thing? Do all boys like to do any one particular thing?"

"You really are a lot like your brother."

"I believe you've said that already. So, what of that brother of mine? You live together. Do you like him?"

He stopped dancing and drew away a bit.

Oh no, I thought. What a stupid question to ask. Now he would tell me that he didn't like Will, and by doing so, he would be saying that he didn't like me.

"Well," he said, considering, "I don't know as I've ever thought of your brother in terms of
liking.
He is intelligent and funny, and yet there's a certain nobility about him. It's as though questions of honor and integrity matter to him in a way that they don't matter to anyone else here, certainly not the masters. I can no longer remember what it was like here before your brother came, and I certainly can't imagine what it would be like if he were gone." He shrugged, looking stunned at his admission. "I suppose Will Gardener is the best friend I've ever had."

I was feeling all sorts of emotions then: stunned, thrilled, and not a little jealous. Stunned, because I had known James was fond of me, at least compared to how he felt about the likes of Hamish and Mercy, but I hadn't known it was to such an extent; thrilled, because of that very fondness; and jealous, because it had been possible for me to grow close to James only as Will Gardener. I could never have gotten so close to him if he had met me as Bet, the maid's daughter. What a peculiar world it was, never mind how much more peculiar I had made it.

"You look unhappy," James said.

I'm sorry?

"If hearing that I regard your brother as my best friend makes you unhappy," he said, forcing a laugh, "I can certainly pretend he is my mortal enemy."

And now here was another peculiar feature. Had I been James's friend Will right then, I knew James would never be so solicitous about my mood. There was something tender and protective about his behavior, in contrast with the bluff fraternal nature of his friendship with Will. And, I realized now, he would never have confessed to Will what he had just told me.

"It is all right," I said with feigned hauteur that I made sure to moderate with a bright smile. "I rather like that you like my brother. You may go on doing so."

"Are you ready to dance now?" Oh God. Hamish again. Apparently, he'd emancipated himself from his sister.

"Much as I would like to," I said, "I'm afraid I see someone I promised my brother I would dance with this evening."

"Who?" Hamish was outraged.

I jutted my chin toward a boy who was shuffling his feet around the refreshments table while Stephens looked on from the other side.

"
Little?
" Hamish was more outraged yet.

"I thought my brother said his name was Christopher Warren," I said coolly. "Will described him to me right down to that shock of red hair and told me he had a sterling character. Now, if you will excuse me..."

I made my way straight over to a stunned Little, feeling James and Hamish staring after me. I was sure James looked amused while Hamish was practically apoplectic that I'd turned him down in favor of Little. As for Little, so what if he crippled my toes with stepping on them as we each attempted to lead the other around the dance floor? It was worth it to catch that look on Hamish's face every time I spun around.

After Little and I were finished, I made my way back to James.

"That was a nice thing you did for Little," James said. "You know, it's probably the only dance he'll ever get in his entire career here."

I waved off what he clearly intended as a compliment.

"Would you care to dance with me again?" he offered.

"No, thank you." I laughed. "Christopher stepped on my toes so many times, I think I'm done dancing for the night."

"I'm sorry about that," he said, nodding at my feet.

"Don't be." I shrugged. "It was well worth it."

"Would you like to sit down? Can I get you some refreshments?"

"I think," I said, "that I'd just like to stand here and watch, if you don't mind."

And really, it was all I wanted right then.

It was funny. I'd come to the winter ball with my only desire being to dance with James, and yet, after just one brief dance, I had refused a second. In part, that refusal was because it had been almost too much, feeling his hand take mine, feeling his other hand against my waist—I'd been touched so few times in my life, any physical contact was shocking. But a far bigger part was the realization that sometimes we want things, and then when we get them, we see that what we really want is something else. And all I truly wanted in that moment was just what I had: to be standing there, a girl, next to a boy I liked so much, watching the world dance by.

"Very well," James said.

So that's what we did.

***

As it began to grow late, I asked James if we might step outside for a moment.

"It's February," he said.

"Not June?"

"It'll be cold," he said.

"It'll feel good."

I walked, and James followed, until we were far away from the golden lights of Marchand Hall, and then I spun around.

"Would you like to kiss me?" I asked.

"Would I ... You're Will's sister!"

"Yes, I do know that. Would you like to kiss me?"

I didn't care how bold or forward I sounded. I wanted that kiss. I knew that if everything went according to my original plan, if I succeeded in finishing out my time at the Betterman Academy as Will Gardener, I'd never get another chance like this.

"I can't—" he started to say.

But I didn't let him finish.

Stepping into the space that separated us, I rose on my toes and tilted my head up, touching my lips to his.

Then, before he could say anything, I settled back on my feet, raised my skirts slightly, and took off running across the commons area.

"Where are you going?" he shouted after me.

"I'll be late for my carriage!" I shouted back. I could hear the joy in my voice even as I heard the chapel clock strike the hour.

It struck me then that I was like a character from a story written back in 1697, Charles Perrault's Cinderella, only in my case, I'd been able to hold on to both slippers, and they weren't made of glass.

"I'll walk you," James called out. He began to run.

"No!" I shouted cheerfully but in a voice that brooked no argument. "You stay there! Enjoy the dance!" I ran some more, turned one last time to see him still standing there. "Thank you!" I shouted.

***

A few pebbles thrown carefully at Mrs. Smithers's window was enough to make her open up for me, and I scampered back up the sheets as she and Mrs. Hunter pulled from the other end.

"Was it everything you hoped it would be?" Mrs. Smithers asked as I all but tumbled into the room.

"It'll have to be," I said. "It'll have to be enough."

***