A Debutante's Guide to Rebellion by Kathleen Kimmel

said.
    â€œWhy not? Assuming we manage to save her from whatever scheme her mother’s invented—”
    â€œShe is miserable,” Ezekiel said. It was a misery he understood. But he had the influence of his uncle and cousin to counter that of his stepfather. And he had his peculiar mind, which so thoroughly rebelled against his father’s ways that it had been clear to him from the time that he was a child that it was
impossible
to be what his father wanted. As a result, he had never tried to contort himself to those expectations. He had known who he was, because every moment of every day showed him a thousand instances of what he
wasn’t
.
    Lady Eddie was not as peculiar as he was. She still thought that what her mother wanted was possible. His father was asking a crawling vine to grow into an oak tree; Lady Copeland was merely demanding that a tulip change its color, and Lady Eddie still believed she could.
    â€œShe is always alone,” he said. “At every dance. When she does speak to anyone, she looks immediately for her mother. Only if she does not see her does she dare continue the conversation. She calls herself ugly and clumsy and worse with the confidence of one who has been informed of such attributes on a regular basis. She cannot stay in that household.”
    â€œShe’s survived this long.”
    â€œLord and Lady Copeland resided in India from the time Lady Eddie was ten years old until two years ago. She has been spared their attention for much of her life.” She had told him some; the rest had not been difficult to infer. He was no student of humanity, but he found himself an avid pupil when it came to the subject of Lady Eddie herself. He was confident in his suppositions. And frightened of what might happen if he were right, and did nothing.
    ***
    Eighteen minutes before midnight, Eddie stole to the window and opened it a few inches. Any farther and it would creak. She had contemplated leaping to the street below to effect her escape, but she was on the third floor; the drop would surely break a leg, if not kill her outright. And so for eighteen heart-pounding minutes, she waited.
    She ought to have known he would arrive precisely at the stroke of midnight, rounding the corner with a furtive gait that suggested a wading bird attempting a canter.
    â€œLady Eddie,” he called up at precisely the right volume to be heard without drawing attention. “I received your message.”
    â€œI was worried you wouldn’t understand it,” she confessed. “I didn’t have much time to concoct the code.”
    â€œIt was unusual,” he said delicately. “But Sophie and I were able to decipher it, once we realized the basic principles at play. Are you locked in your room?”
    â€œYes. And I’m not to be let out until the ball. I fear I’m a reverse Cinderella,” Eddie said. “And worse, my mother has planned some kind of trap for your uncle at Lady Brent’s ball. I don’t know the details, but we can assume it will turn out poorly for all who are involved.”
    â€œAnd you think that we should elope?”
    â€œDon’t you?” She peered down at him anxiously. Had he changed his mind so quickly?
    â€œIt’s the only way we can be married, it seems. As that is our agreed-upon goal, your strategy is sensible. The difficulty will be in liberating you from your room so that we can achieve an elopement.” He frowned, deep in thought. “Is there any way that you can climb down?”
    â€œThe ivy won’t hold me, and my hair’s not long enough,” she said.
    â€œWhat does your hair have to do with anything?”
    â€œRapunzel. Never mind. I suppose I could knot the sheets together . . .” She glanced back at her bed. She thought she could manage to knot them sufficiently to hold her weight, and perhaps if she tied the end around the bed-leg . . .
    â€œPerhaps a