Philippa drank her tea, her gaze carefully averted as she jumped to a new thread of conversation that Annabelle perceived had a disagreeable connection to the last. “We haven’t the means to keep Jeremy in school for his next term. I haven’t paid the servants in two months. There are bills—”

“Yes, I know all of that,” Annabelle said, flushing slightly with a swift burn of annoyance. “I’ll find a husband, Mama. Very soon.” Somehow she forced a shallow smile to her face. “How do you feel about a jaunt to Hampshire? Now that the season is coming to a close, many people will be leaving London in search of new amusements—in particular, a hunt given by Lord Westcliff at his country estate.”

Philippa glanced at her with new alertness. “I wasn’t aware that we had received an invitation from the earl.”

“We haven’t,” Annabelle replied. “Yet. But we will…and I have a feeling that good things await us in Hampshire, Mama.”

CHAPTER 4

Two days before Annabelle and her mother left for Hampshire, a towering stack of boxes and parcels arrived. It took the footman three trips to convey them from the entrance hall to Annabelle’s room upstairs, where he piled them in a mountain beside the bed. Unwrapping them carefully, Annabelle discovered at least a half dozen gowns that had never been worn…taffeta silks and muslins in rich colors, and matching jackets lined in butter-soft chamois, and a ball gown made of heavy ivory silk with spills of delicate Belgium lace at the bodice and sleeves. There were also gloves, shawls, scarves, and hats, of such quality and beauty that they nearly made Annabelle want to weep. The gowns and accessories must have cost a fortune— undoubtedly nothing to the Bowman girls, but to Annabelle, the gift was overwhelming.

Picking up the note that had been delivered along with the parcels, she broke the wax seal and read the decisively scrawled lines.

From your fairy godmothers, otherwise known as Lillian and Daisy. Here’s to a successful hunt in Hampshire.

P.S. You’re not going to lose your nerve, are you?

She wrote back:

Dear Fairy Godmothers,

Nerve is the only thing I’ve got left. Thank you endlessly for the gowns. I am in ecstasy at finally being able to wear pretty clothes again. It is one of my many failings, to love beautiful things so dearly.

Your devoted Annabelle

P.S. Am returning the shoes, however, as they are far too small. And I’d always heard that American girls had large feet!

Dear Annabelle,

Is it a failing to love beautiful things? That must be an English notion, as we are certain that it has never occurred to anyone in Manhattanville. Just for that remark about feet, we’re going to make you play Rounders with us in Hampshire. You will love whacking balls with sticks. There is nothing quite so satisfying.

Dear Lillian and Daisy,

I will consent to Rounders only if you can persuade Evie to join in, which I highly doubt. And though I won’t know until I’ve tried it, I can think of lots of things more satisfying than whacking balls with sticks. Finding a husband comes to mind…

By the way, what does one wear to play Rounders? A walking costume?

Dear Annabelle,

We play in our knickers, of course. One can’t run properly in skirts.

Dear Lillian and Daisy,

The word “knickers” is unfamiliar to me. Can you possibly be referring to undergarments? Surely you are not suggesting that we shall romp about outdoors in our drawers like savage children…?

Dear Annabelle,

The word is derived from “Knickerbockers”—a level of New York society from which we are ritually excluded. In America, “drawers” belong inside a piece of furniture. And Evie says yes.

Dear Evie,

I did not trust my eyes when the Bowman sisters wrote to inform me that you have agreed to play Rounders in knickers. Have you really said so? I am hoping that you will deny it, as I had made my acceptance contingent upon yours.

Dear Annabelle,

It is my belief that this association with the Bowmans will help to cure me of my shyness. Rounders-in-knickers seems just the way to begin. Have I shocked you? I’ve never shocked anyone before, not even myself! I do hope that you are impressed by my willingness to jump into the spirit of things.

Dear Evie,

Impressed, amused, and somewhat apprehensive about what scrapes these Bowmans will land us in. Where, pray tell, are we to find a place where we may play Rounders-in-knickers unobserved? Yes, I am thoroughly shocked, you shameless hussy.

Dear Annabelle,

I am coming to believe that there are two kinds of people…those who choose to be masters of their own fate and those who wait in chairs while others dance. I would rather be one of the former than the latter. As to how and when Rounders game shall take place, I am satisfied to leave such details to the Bowmans.

With all fondness,Evie the hussy

During the flurry of these and other playful notes that were sent back and forth, Annabelle began to experience something she had forgotten long ago…the delight of having friends. As her past friends had moved into the hallowed existence of married couples, she had been left behind. Her wallflower status, not to mention her lack of money, had created a chasm that friendship could not seem to bridge. In the past few years she had come to be increasingly self-reliant, and had even made efforts to avoid the company of the girls with whom she had once talked and giggled and shared secrets.

However, in one fell swoop she had acquired three friends with whom she had something in common, despite their radically different backgrounds. They were all young women with hopes and dreams and fears…each of them entirely familiar with the sight of a gentleman’s polished black shoes walking by their row of chairs in search of more promising quarry. The wallflowers had nothing to lose by helping each other, and everything to gain.