Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I sat corrected: Most men stirred no emotion from me at all…with the exception of him. Most gentlemen were at least cordial, never mind their true intention, when in my presence. However, this doctor seemed almost distressed by me. How fortunate I had not seen him again or I would have remarked on his poor behavior.
“Shall we start on your hair, my lady?” Bernice asked me.
“Yes, please.” I nodded, pushing him from my mind. I had more pressing things to worry about, like how I was going to survive this outing in society.
I did not care from whom it came, I would reject every advance made my way.
3
Verity
“Let us hope the poor girl has recovered,” Hathor said, looking out the window of our carriage as it approached the brick townhouse covered in wisteria at the near end of the city.
“Which girl?” Damon questioned across from her. Beside him, as always, was his wife, Silva, both of them dressed in complementary burgundy and yellow colors. Although Silva seemed a bit concerned that the color was bright for her and drew too much attention, especially with the diamonds around her neck. But the marchioness had insisted she wear it. Everyone had to be done up as if we were going to the palace.
“Lady Clementina Rowley,” Hathor replied, turning her attention back to us. “Her presentation to the queen was horrid and was all anyone could speak of.”
My presentation had been immediately after hers, so I was just behind the doors and heard the queen question if the young lady had been stretched due to her long neck and considerable height. I also saw how the other young ladies behind me fought back fits of laughter. At the time, I was too concerned over my own issue, my stepmother, who had forced her way into being there, embarrassing me, to think of Lady Clementina.
“That was weeks ago,” Silva said with a frown. “Surely, the talk of the ton has progressed.”
“Of course the talk has progressed, as she has been absent from society since. She did not even come to our ball,” Hathor reminded us.
“I am quite sure I saw Her Grace, the Duchess of Imbert, in attendance at your ball,” I said, remembering the short but very proud woman wearing a sapphire tiara and matching gown with several bows at the bodice, whom the marchioness introduced to me that evening. “And she had her daughter with her.”
“She brought only one daughter, Domenica. She is the one who married the Earl of Casterbridge a few years ago,” Hathor answered, adjusting her dress as she turned to look at me. “Clementina was not there. This whole season, I’ve seen her only twice: once at the palace and then a few days later in the park, where she was still the topic of mockery. She left in tears, and since then, not a word about her.”
“It is not like you to be so concerned about the problems of another,” Damon replied, and even in the slight darkness, I could see his eyebrows rise. “If you are motivated to ask, you must fear for yourself somehow. Out with it.”
Hathor rolled her eyes. “You believe me to be so self-centered?”
“Yes,” Damon and I said in unison, causing her to scoff. Though I spoke in jest, Damon looked at me and nodded approvingly.
“Silva?” Hathor looked to the blonde woman across from me, hoping for an ally. Silva merely smiled back but did not answer, to her husband’s amusement. “Very well, since you all have such little faith in me, I shall be the villain you wish and tell you I am concerned because I do not wish for tonight’s attention to be focused on her absence.”
“The truth at last.” Damon snickered as he shook his head at her. “Sister, your mind sincerely amazes me.”
Hathor quickly and childishly made a face at him, which reminded me in that moment of Abena, before turning back to the window as we arrived at the lavender-covered building. There were several other carriages already parked and being attended to. The one before our own held the marquess and marchioness. I watched as both Hathor and Silva readjusted their gloves, jewels, and dresses before the doors opened for us.
Damon exited first, placing his hat on before outstretching his hand to aid Silva to the ground, then Hathor, and finally myself. From the outside, it felt more like a ball than a mere concert, with the elaborately sculpted hedges, finely dressed coachmen marching about like royal guards, the hundreds of candles, and the large number of attendees.
“I am much obliged to your mother for insisting I dress so finely,” Silva whispered to her husband as we took in the splendor. Even Damon looked a bit taken aback by it all, and we had yet to enter, as there was a queue.