If Major Reynolds is the man I think he is, then I would like to marry him.
To acknowledge the words, to say them in her head—if not aloud—was shocking. For a moment she stood frozen. People brushed past her, their voices a meaningless babble in her ears.
“Isabella?”
With effort she focused on her cousin’s face.
“Are you certain you’re all right?” Concern furrowed Mrs. Westin’s brow. “You look very . . .”
Lost. I’m lost. In the past week I’ve become someone I don’t know. I no longer recognize myself.
“. . . very pale.”
Isabella attempted a smile. She swallowed and spoke, “I’m perfectly all right, Cousin.”
She might not recognize who she was, but she recognized the emotion rising in her breast. Not dismay, but hope.
I want to marry Major Reynolds.
Isabella blinked and looked aroun
