you aren’t fortunate enough to have your sister’s figure. She takes after me in that way.” Her mother had lifted Evangeline’s chin with one long finger, smiling down into her upturned face. “I knew when you were but a child that you would be special.”
Apparently, “special” meant possessing flawless beauty and doing as one was told. Sue shook off the memory with a roll of her eyes and looked out the window, watching the breeze blow through the trees beyond the Fairlyns’ well-kept lawn and smiling as she licked a crumb from her finger.
The sad truth was that every bite that passed Sue’s lips could equal a feast for her long-limbed sister. She’d been cursing her lack of height and curvy body for years. If she looked like Evangeline, then perhaps things would be different—perhaps last night would have ended under happier circumstances. Her throat tightened and she set her jaw against the emotion.
Alas, she took after her father’s side of the family who navigated the world on cunning and family titles, not like her mother and sister who could acquire anything they wanted with a smile. There was no sense in being upset over the long-known fact; Sue was plain.
She ignored the voice in her head calling her beautiful—a voice that rang out in Holden’s deep tones. She sniffed to keep from crying again. He hadn’t found her beautiful without a mask. He hadn’t even recognized her. The hurt of it had receded from a sharp slice to a dull ache, tearing at her heart every time she thought of it. So, she wouldn’t be thinking about it anymore.
So far, her efforts had been quite unsuccessful, but she was endeavoring to try harder. The masquerade ball did have its purposes after all, for now she was allowed to eat for the first time in her life. Her newfound freedom came at the price of Mother finally giving up on her. Although there was a fraction of sadness over this occurrence, there was also relief.
She reached for another piece of bread, watching her mother instruct Mary to place more pins in Evangeline’s gown. Supervising the maid as she drew the fabric up between her fingers, her mother then tugged on the gown until it draped in pristine folds from Evangeline’s thin shoulders. Then she batted Mary’s hands away, dropping the fabric as she made another attempt at perfection.
“No, no, no! This will not do! That modiste may claim French blood, but her fitting skills are abhorrent.”
“It looks perfect to me,” Sue offered, never understanding why her mother was so upset. Sue’s gowns fit fine and had been put away out of sight weeks ago. “And perhaps after the nine hours we spent in her shop trying on gown after gown, she’d grown a bit weary by the time she reached that particular ensemble.” Who could blame the poor woman? Sue grew bored of it after a few minutes.
This afternoon it seemed she should have kept her opinions to herself, for her mother shot her a dark look from across the room. Turning back to her work, she tossed out, “You only think it perfect because you have no eye for fashion, darling.”
Evangeline gave one silent shake of laughter, because ladies do not snort aloud. With a whispered “the poor dear,” she put a hand to her mouth to contain her smile.
Sue listened to them giggle with a pang of annoyance. She popped the last of the bread in her mouth, seeking comfort in its softness.
Mother dismissed the maid and backed away from Evangeline, assessing her work as she spoke in a carrying voice. “Of course, with the ensemble I found Sue wearing last night, she would be a welcome addition to any brothel.”
Evangeline went still. Her eyes flashed in Sue’s direction in the mirror. Evangeline knew it had been her idea to attend, yet she would never utter a word of support for Sue in front of their mother. Sue had known she would regret attending that ball. For a time while there, she’d thought otherwise. How wrong she’d been. Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings,
Apparently, “special” meant possessing flawless beauty and doing as one was told. Sue shook off the memory with a roll of her eyes and looked out the window, watching the breeze blow through the trees beyond the Fairlyns’ well-kept lawn and smiling as she licked a crumb from her finger.
The sad truth was that every bite that passed Sue’s lips could equal a feast for her long-limbed sister. She’d been cursing her lack of height and curvy body for years. If she looked like Evangeline, then perhaps things would be different—perhaps last night would have ended under happier circumstances. Her throat tightened and she set her jaw against the emotion.
Alas, she took after her father’s side of the family who navigated the world on cunning and family titles, not like her mother and sister who could acquire anything they wanted with a smile. There was no sense in being upset over the long-known fact; Sue was plain.
She ignored the voice in her head calling her beautiful—a voice that rang out in Holden’s deep tones. She sniffed to keep from crying again. He hadn’t found her beautiful without a mask. He hadn’t even recognized her. The hurt of it had receded from a sharp slice to a dull ache, tearing at her heart every time she thought of it. So, she wouldn’t be thinking about it anymore.
So far, her efforts had been quite unsuccessful, but she was endeavoring to try harder. The masquerade ball did have its purposes after all, for now she was allowed to eat for the first time in her life. Her newfound freedom came at the price of Mother finally giving up on her. Although there was a fraction of sadness over this occurrence, there was also relief.
She reached for another piece of bread, watching her mother instruct Mary to place more pins in Evangeline’s gown. Supervising the maid as she drew the fabric up between her fingers, her mother then tugged on the gown until it draped in pristine folds from Evangeline’s thin shoulders. Then she batted Mary’s hands away, dropping the fabric as she made another attempt at perfection.
“No, no, no! This will not do! That modiste may claim French blood, but her fitting skills are abhorrent.”
“It looks perfect to me,” Sue offered, never understanding why her mother was so upset. Sue’s gowns fit fine and had been put away out of sight weeks ago. “And perhaps after the nine hours we spent in her shop trying on gown after gown, she’d grown a bit weary by the time she reached that particular ensemble.” Who could blame the poor woman? Sue grew bored of it after a few minutes.
This afternoon it seemed she should have kept her opinions to herself, for her mother shot her a dark look from across the room. Turning back to her work, she tossed out, “You only think it perfect because you have no eye for fashion, darling.”
Evangeline gave one silent shake of laughter, because ladies do not snort aloud. With a whispered “the poor dear,” she put a hand to her mouth to contain her smile.
Sue listened to them giggle with a pang of annoyance. She popped the last of the bread in her mouth, seeking comfort in its softness.
Mother dismissed the maid and backed away from Evangeline, assessing her work as she spoke in a carrying voice. “Of course, with the ensemble I found Sue wearing last night, she would be a welcome addition to any brothel.”
Evangeline went still. Her eyes flashed in Sue’s direction in the mirror. Evangeline knew it had been her idea to attend, yet she would never utter a word of support for Sue in front of their mother. Sue had known she would regret attending that ball. For a time while there, she’d thought otherwise. How wrong she’d been. Holden Ellis, Lord Steelings,
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