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Chapter 13

“Twelve.”

Rebecca looked at Jonathan’s teacup and frowned. “Is the tea not to your liking?”

“Oh,” Jonathan hastily raised the cup to his lips. “No, it is fine.” He replaced it on the saucer and breathed a sigh that he had not spilled it after all.

Rebecca smiled again.

Jonathan looked nervously over his shoulder at Mary. He was sure she was aware of every word, every motion.

He moved from his chair to sit at the opposite end of the couch. Mary lifted her head from her sewing, raised an eyebrow, then satisfied that Jonathan was not about to ravage her sister, she lowered her eyes once more to her work.

“Miss Gilmore, may I speak candidly?”

Rebecca looked over to her sister, then nodded.

“I want you to know what has happened…this situation…the—”

“Betrothal?” she offered.