No, Elizabeth thought,not this. Not now.
Though she was accustomed to such assaults, the harshness of their voices still grated painfully on Elizabeth’s ears. She steeled herself against the torrent of satin, silk, and sharp sneers that swept toward them.
The young ladies made no effort to soften their words; their laughter was loud, their malice unmistakable.
“Did you see how she nearly stumbled on the steps? Is that the sort of clumsiness a respectable duke or earl would tolerate? At one-and-twenty, no less! Her knees are already giving way. What a fright she’ll be in five years,” sneered the one with the blonde ringlets, her voice sharp and cold as winter frost.
“Hopefullymarried off before then,” the black-haired lady beside her giggled with obvious sarcasm.
“As for Lady Wilhelmina? She looks as if she’d make a husband’s life unbearable. And I doubt many men would last long enough to regret it,” the third said with a biting smile.
“Half-sisters, apparently. It’s painfully obvious: one’s trembling at her own shadow, the other frightens everyone else to death,” the blonde concluded, eyes glittering with scorn.
Wilhelmina could no longer hold her temper. Before Elizabeth could stop her, she had already bridged the distance between her and the other young ladies.
“I dare you to say one more thing about us,in frontof my face,” she said coldly.
The girls startled, their faces blanching even beneath layers of rouge and powder. One placed a handkerchief on her mouth as if she would faint. Elizabeth might be awkward, but she somehow suspected these women were acting more affected than they really were.
Wilhelmina did not get to say everything she had to say, though. Her mother was soon at their side, a storm cloud pretending to be a rainbow.
“Ladies, do forgive my daughter,” she cooed sweetly as Elizabeth spied Wilhelmina rolling her eyes. “They are still learning, but they are very much willing. Come, Wilhelmina. Apologize to these young ladies.”
Elizabeth flinched. She was indeed a wallflower, but she didn’t see the sense of apologizing when one was right. Wilhelmina apparently agreed, because she faced the other young women with her jaw clenched and her eyes blazing.
“Apologies,” she said flatly.
“S-she didn’t look like she was sorry!” the one with the blond ringlets complained.
“She didn’t do anything wrong,” Elizabeth whispered, her palms cold with anxiety.
Meanwhile, Lady Grisham looked like she would throttle the two sisters. Elizabeth suspected that was why the trio finally left them alone.
“Come here,” the disgruntled marchioness ordered in a low voice.
Lady Grisham leaned in close, her voice soft but resolute as she whispered into Elizabeth’s ear. “Youwillmarry this Season, Elizabeth. If you don’t… your sisters’ futures will suffer. Their prospects rest with you.”
A heavy weight settled over Elizabeth’s heart. The thought of her half-sisters’ happiness and security dangling precariously because of her own actions filled her with unbearable guilt. She swallowed hard, the silent pressure pressing her toward a decision she felt she could not refuse.
“Marianne may now be a duchess, but that does not mean you will all sit down and relax.” Lady Grisham turned to Wilhelmina, “Your turn has come now, child. But your sister must find a husband soon so we can focus on you more.”
“I’m not asking for that, Mother,” Wilhelmina retorted.
“I know, and I believe that’s a problem you want your dear mama to solve.”
Meanwhile, Elizabeth was still absorbing the marchioness’s words. Ambition colored everything that her stepmother did or said. For Elizabeth, her father’s second-born, she had no other option but to agree to be presented like a broodmare.
“I understand,” Elizabeth said softly. “I will… I will do my best tonight, Lady Grisham.”
“That’s better,” Lady Grisham said approvingly.
And so, the next hour became a flurry of introductions. It was sad that Elizabeth would only remember the worst, the uninterested, and the ones who wasted much of her precious time.
Lord Weston spent much of their time conversing and dancing, his gaze lingering a little too long in places Elizabeth wished it wouldn’t—namely her bosom. Though her frame was slender, she carried a fullness that often drew unwelcome attention,something she neither sought nor appreciated, especially in such a setting.
“My lord, um, what do you think of the delicacies laid out this evening?” Elizabeth asked, thinking of persuading Weston to head to the buffet.
“They do look quite appetizing, my lady,” he replied, his eyes briefly flickering downward at her décolletage.