A Page Concerning Invitations

Marguerite sat at the desk in her little room, smiling in the sunlight radiating through the window. Her hand paused over a sheet of clean, blank paper. At her elbow was a neat stack of letters, all sealed with bright red ribbon and addressed in her tiny, neat handwriting. Her cheeks were still pleasantly rosy after a kiss from Christopher, and their forthcoming nuptials filled her thoughts.
Presently, she deliberated over a certain invitation... for the stack of letters all contained invitations to her engagement party. She had just finished Ceci's, and the thought of her dear cousin reminded her of a certain Mr. Corran Lennox, whom she suspected of particular regard for Cecilia. She wondered if such an invitation would cause consternation; it was of no particular concern to her whether or not the young man attended the party. The very idea of it was due to Ceci alone.
Marguerite wished she might ask Christopher his opinion. But he had gone on errand to town (for what, he wouldn't say.)
As she sat by the window, debating the correct action in her mind, she heard a soft knock at the front door. So she put her pen down and left the room to answer it.
She opened it wide to find Ceci standing in the doorway, looking rather... unlike her usual self. Ceci stood with her arms crossed tightly to her chest, paler than usual and stony-faced.
"My dear! I was just thinking of you, and that we haven't spoken for ages. Come in from the chill!" Marguerite ushered her cousin into the parlor, where Ceci sat without a word on a vacant chair.
"I'll fetch you some tea-- you look colder than ice!" And Marguerite hastened off.
When she returned, she pressed a hot cup into her cousin's icy fingers.
Ceci sipped carefully at the liquid. The steam rose from the cup and brushed the rosiness back into her cheeks.
"What is it?" Marguerite said finally, leaning forward. She wasn't usually blunt, but she'd never seen Ceci in such a peculiar state before.
Ceci looked up at her cousin. She set the little tea cup on the table near her elbow. Then she sighed and retrieved a paper from her pocket.
Marguerite thought she saw her cousin's fingers tremble as she cradled the little slip in her hands. It was a letter, she finally realized.
"Is it... some terrible news?" Marguerite asked slowly, fright beginning to steal up her throat.
A grimace spread across Ceci's face. "No," she answered. She began to flatten the creased paper over her knee, and wouldn't look up to meet Marguerite's eyes.
"Then, heaven's sake, what?"
"Did Christopher ever write you a love letter?" Ceci asked, finally glancing up at her cousin.
Marguerite blinked in surprise. "No," she said.
"He told you that he loved you?"
"Yes," Marguerite said simply. "Is that what that paper is in your hands? A love letter?"
Ceci looked down at her lap again and nodded.
"Who is it from?" Marguerite asked, though she could easily guess.
"From Corran."
"Mr. Lennox?"
Ceci gave a quick jerk of her head.
"Well..." Marguerite wondered at her cousin. "Why are you so pale? You don't return his sentiments?"
Ceci didn't answer immediately. The long pause Marguerite understood as a negative, until Ceci said in a hoarse whisper, "I hardly know."
"Oh," was Marguerite's reply.
Ceci looked up at her with desperate pleading in her eyes. Marguerite could see a sheen of tears forming on the surface. She reached forward and clasped her cousin's cold fingers tightly in her own.
"I can't offer you any insights," she said quickly, "but you are the cleverest young woman I know... as well as the kindest. I'm confident you'll find the truth you need."
"Only... even if I find it, how am I to be sure I have the... the nerve?"
Marguerite stood up and gently pulled her cousin to her feet. She gave a little laugh.
"My very dearest Ceci! God bless you, if there's anything to doubt in you, it isn't your supply of boldness!"
Marguerite pressed Ceci into a tight hug, closing her eyes and willing her own abundance of happiness to pass to her beloved cousin.

Marguerite was left with a look of gratitude from Ceci's pale face as she stood in the doorway to watch her make her way slowly down the grassy hill behind the house. She paused there for a time, staring out into the sky and the departing sun.

When finally she returned to her desk of invitations, her hand paused once more over the blank paper. She glanced out the window again.
Then resolutely, she penned the invitation to Mr. Lennox.