A Sense of Sin by Elizabeth Essex Page A

Even a small independence, as Melissa had said, would be made to serve. Certainly she was pretty and sweet enough to make some young gentleman set aside matters of birth and fortune.
    Strange, how confident she could be about Melissa’s future, when her own felt so uncertain. But Melissa had Celia to ease her way through any difficulties, while Celia had no one she could burden with her cares.
    She was giving in to self-pity. Melissa had come to Dartmouth, or at least come from Bath, at some point, entirely on her own. The girl who had no one else in the world to rely upon had learned to rely upon herself in a way Celia never had.
    It struck her with all the force of a cold dash of water how selfish, not to mention how naive and protected, she had been. How she had taken everything and everyone completely for granted. How she had taken Bains’ pin money from her hands and asked her help to do it. How sorry for herself she had felt at the first uncomfortable sign of misfortune.
    How she had almost let the arrogant, disdainful, Vile Viscount disorder her life to such an extent she began not to recognize herself. That was certainly enough. She would stop her whining. She would take action and rout him yet.

C HAPTER 5
    T he Summer Solstice Ball was held at the home of Lady Harriet Renning, a cousin of Celia’s mother who had an exquisite jewel box of a house with extensive grounds in Dartmouth, where she often held very good concert evenings. Celia was in no way musical—she did not even sing—but she had great enjoyment in listening, and was an appreciative audience. She was therefore a favorite of her cousin Harriet.
    It was small relief to Celia to know she would be amongst mostly family, though there were still a number of others, including guests from neighboring estates. Some were strangers to her, but they were fewer in number than at the Widcombe ball and thus far, Viscount Darling was not among them. She’d had two days and two nights in which to accustom herself to Emily’s brother blackmailing her, and the idea no longer shocked, though it still rattled her greatly.
    Celia had sent a request to Lady Harriet, asking if she might do Celia the very great favor of extending an invitation to her friend Miss Wainwright. Cousin Harriet had been generous enough to do so, and Celia hovered as inconspicuously as possible near the entry to the ballroom, so she might see Melissa in, and introduce her to Cousin Harriet herself.
    When Melissa finally arrived Celia went to her immediately, holding out her hands in greeting. “Melissa!”
    “Dear Miss Burke. How kind you are to receive me yourself.”
    Celia squeezed Melissa’s hands in her own. “Please, you must call me Celia. But now you must prepare yourself for a great squeeze—my relations are both extensive and voluble! Come let me introduce you.”
    They began with Lady Harriet and her husband, Lord Renning, but Celia’s effusive greeting of someone unknown to her mother earned her an imperiously raised eyebrow that bade her come immediately.
    “Come, will you let me introduce you to Mama?”
    “You honor me.” Miss Wainwright was all blushing appreciation.
    “Mama, may I have the pleasure of introducing you to my dear friend, Miss Melissa Wainwright of Lincolnshire? Miss Wainwright and I were lately together at Miss Hadley’s School in Bath.”
    “Ah, yes. Miss Wainwright. A pleasure.” Lady Caroline acknowledged Melissa’s curtsy with a regal nod of her plumed headdress.
    “My mother, Lady Caroline Burke.”
    Lady Caroline was gracious, and did Melissa the further kindness of introducing her to some of the other matrons, hostesses all. Melissa was thus assured of her share of invitations in Dartmouth society for however long her residency.
    “Miss Burke, I must thank you for the generous—”
    “Oh, no, it will not do. Please, you must call me Celia.” She linked her arm with Melissa’s. “We were not so formal at school, were we?”
    “No, we