Page 2 of The Rake’s Convenient Bride

“How much does it take to get drunk?” Jillian asked, peering curiously at the bottle.

Lucy pulled the cork free and the hollow thunk filled the room. “We’ll find out.” She sniffed the contents, but despite her bravado, a look of disgust pulled at her features. “I imagine it won’t be much.” Acting on impulse, as she was wont to do, she put the bottle to her lips and tilted her head back. She swallowed, grimaced, and lowered the brandy as she wheezed out a pained exhale.

“I think you’re supposed to sip it,” Jillian mused.

“I’ve never been a rule-follower,” Lucy ground out, likely trying to salvage her brave demeanor. She passed the bottle to Hannah. “And neither have you.”

Hannah hesitated, her head tilted in a show of skepticism. “I ought to take offense to that.”

“But you won’t,” Lucy replied, her husky voice restored.

Hannah didn’t bother to protest—or hesitate—and put the rim to her lips and took a swig as hearty as Lucy’s.

Her blue eyes bulged, and her face went deep red right up to the roots of her hair. Features contorting in agony, she swallowed, the sound making an audible gulp before she exhaled a pained wheeze.

Amy rushed to Hannah’s side, patting her back, concern evident in her wide, dark-brown gaze.

For her part, Elizabeth wanted nothing to do with the stuff. Save it for Jones in her opinion. He clearly had greater need of it than they.

“Is the taste really that bad?” Elizabeth asked, knowing she’d likely be coerced into taking a sip as well despite her unwillingness to do so.

She was spared from being next when Jillian pried the bottle from Hannah’s clutched fist, the challenge making that glint show in Jillian’s eyes. She put the rim to her lips, drank deeply and shrugged. “Not bad.”

Elizabeth gaped at her.

All at once, Jillian burst into a sputtering laugh that turned into a gagging cough, her blue eyes brilliant as they watered. “But not good either,” she rasped.

Amy ran to her and gently thwacked at her back until Jillian waved her off, still laughing.

“Let’s get to our resolutions before any one of us has to drink more of that.” Jillian pointed an accusatory finger at the brandy.

The tension knotting at Elizabeth’s shoulders eased somewhat, and she gave Jillian a grateful smile.

Her friend winked back in understanding. Of the five, Elizabeth and Amy were the least adventurous. Jillian was inclined to allow people to do as they please without compulsion. But then, with all the pressure her own parents had applied on her through her life, it was no wonder.

There was something free and beautiful about Jillian. Not in the rebellious way like Lucy, who seemed ready to throw her actions in the face of those who challenged her. No, Jillian wanted to do what she wanted to for her sake alone, to appease some pulse within her that thrummed to a different beat than others.

Elizabeth envied Jillian as well, the confidence of knowing and accepting herself so thoroughly.

Lucy tucked the bottle against her arm, and they gathered closer to the hearth while Hannah collected the journal.

The plush, salmon-colored carpet was warm in front of the hearth, heating the chill in Elizabeth’s limbs. All eyes turned to her, and she swallowed down her anxiety. Or at least some of it.

Amy carefully dipped the quill in ink for her, likely so Elizabeth wouldn’t spill it.

Dread tightened in her stomach. Might as well declare her resolution now and get the whole business of it over with.

“I vow to be less clumsy this year,” Elizabeth announced. “Or at least not be so terribly awkward about it.”

Amy cast her a sympathetic look and passed the prepared quill.

Elizabeth readily accepted the journal to avoid seeing the pity on their faces. ‘1810’ was written with immaculate perfection in Amy’s neat script. Elizabeth added her resolution in a carefully neat hand, in an effort to match the elegance of her friend’s writing.

Miss Cuthbert would likely be pleased with both of them for such penmanship.

“And you, Amy?” Hannah asked.

Amy accepted the book from Elizabeth and gently blew at the page to dry the ink. “I would like to always be kind.”