hands and nervously pulled on a string hanging loosely from one of the fingers. She hated talking about her past, especially after all the work she’d put into the present. “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose I just took a liking to less complicated forms of amusement. It’s just as easy to take a curricle around the park as it is a horse.”
Ophelia nodded. “I agree entirely. I only ride for sport—leisure is something else entirely.”
Mr. Marshall smiled. “I can think of nothing more enjoyable than taking a ride around the Serpentine.”
“Then you have much to learn about what other kinds of entertainment is available,” Meredith countered.
“I’m sure I do.” His voice was thick with insinuation. “Perhaps one day you can introduce me to some new ways to enjoy myself.”
“We’re here,” Lady Marshall announced, peering out the window again.
Ophelia clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Is there anything better than the opera?”
Meredith could think of only one thing better than spending an evening at the opera with such beautiful music surrounding her . . .
Spending that evening sharing a box with the incredibly rich and esteemed Marshall family.
Nothing can spoil tonight , she thought as the footman helped her down the step.
Meredith curled her arm through Ophelia’s and led her through the lobby, leaving her mother and brother trailing behind.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I was told Il barbiere di Siviglia is quite amusing, though if I recall, its debut was horrendous. I’m sure that’s why it’s taken so long for it to come to London. I wonder who’ll play Rosina?”
Meredith tapped the girl’s hand. “Word of advice?”
“Oh, yes please.”
“Less is more. Try and keep the conversation light.”
“Light? I’m not quite sure I follow.”
“You know an awful lot about . . . well, an awful lot. Perhaps you could try and limit your choice in discussion to subjects that everyone is well versed in—like the weather. Or fashion.”
Ophelia nodded as if she were trying to absorb the sage guidance. “Like politics?”
“Absolutely not.” Meredith could only imagine Ophelia providing the next person who said hello with an entire dissertation on whatever referendum was up for vote.
“Everyone’s here tonight to see the opera. Wouldn’t they all be interested in talking about Rossini’s work?”
Meredith recognized the composer’s name, but only because she’d once considered herself a musician. “There are many people here, but I’m afraid only a small portion of them are actually interested in seeing what happens on stage. Everyone else will be watching the audience.”
Ophelia looked as if someone had just kicked her puppy. Meredith felt a stab of guilt for deflating the poor girl’s vision of humanity, but knew it had to be done sooner or later.
“How do you know all this?”
“There are rules.”
“Rules? Are they written somewhere so that I may learn them, too? I feel as if I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over.”
Before she had the chance to answer, she spotted her friends across the lobby. “There are some people I need to stop and say hello to before we head toward the box, would you mind?”
“Splendid!”
Meredith bit her lip. “Just remember—”
“Weather and fashion,” Ophelia parroted.
At least she was a quick study.
Meredith led her toward the gaggle of girls who’d gathered in the center of the room, each one wearing a primrose ribbon on their left wrist.
They were the ones who started rumors, ended trends, and always looked good while doing it. They were also a ruthless bunch of women who didn’t take kindly to newcomers.
“Meredith, I didn’t know you were coming.” Lady Alexandra McBride was the first to speak. Her family hailed from Scotland, but had enough money that everyone just happened to overlook it. “I thought you’d deserted us.”
Meredith flashed the group a brilliant smile.
Ophelia nodded. “I agree entirely. I only ride for sport—leisure is something else entirely.”
Mr. Marshall smiled. “I can think of nothing more enjoyable than taking a ride around the Serpentine.”
“Then you have much to learn about what other kinds of entertainment is available,” Meredith countered.
“I’m sure I do.” His voice was thick with insinuation. “Perhaps one day you can introduce me to some new ways to enjoy myself.”
“We’re here,” Lady Marshall announced, peering out the window again.
Ophelia clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Is there anything better than the opera?”
Meredith could think of only one thing better than spending an evening at the opera with such beautiful music surrounding her . . .
Spending that evening sharing a box with the incredibly rich and esteemed Marshall family.
Nothing can spoil tonight , she thought as the footman helped her down the step.
Meredith curled her arm through Ophelia’s and led her through the lobby, leaving her mother and brother trailing behind.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week. I was told Il barbiere di Siviglia is quite amusing, though if I recall, its debut was horrendous. I’m sure that’s why it’s taken so long for it to come to London. I wonder who’ll play Rosina?”
Meredith tapped the girl’s hand. “Word of advice?”
“Oh, yes please.”
“Less is more. Try and keep the conversation light.”
“Light? I’m not quite sure I follow.”
“You know an awful lot about . . . well, an awful lot. Perhaps you could try and limit your choice in discussion to subjects that everyone is well versed in—like the weather. Or fashion.”
Ophelia nodded as if she were trying to absorb the sage guidance. “Like politics?”
“Absolutely not.” Meredith could only imagine Ophelia providing the next person who said hello with an entire dissertation on whatever referendum was up for vote.
“Everyone’s here tonight to see the opera. Wouldn’t they all be interested in talking about Rossini’s work?”
Meredith recognized the composer’s name, but only because she’d once considered herself a musician. “There are many people here, but I’m afraid only a small portion of them are actually interested in seeing what happens on stage. Everyone else will be watching the audience.”
Ophelia looked as if someone had just kicked her puppy. Meredith felt a stab of guilt for deflating the poor girl’s vision of humanity, but knew it had to be done sooner or later.
“How do you know all this?”
“There are rules.”
“Rules? Are they written somewhere so that I may learn them, too? I feel as if I keep repeating the same mistakes over and over.”
Before she had the chance to answer, she spotted her friends across the lobby. “There are some people I need to stop and say hello to before we head toward the box, would you mind?”
“Splendid!”
Meredith bit her lip. “Just remember—”
“Weather and fashion,” Ophelia parroted.
At least she was a quick study.
Meredith led her toward the gaggle of girls who’d gathered in the center of the room, each one wearing a primrose ribbon on their left wrist.
They were the ones who started rumors, ended trends, and always looked good while doing it. They were also a ruthless bunch of women who didn’t take kindly to newcomers.
“Meredith, I didn’t know you were coming.” Lady Alexandra McBride was the first to speak. Her family hailed from Scotland, but had enough money that everyone just happened to overlook it. “I thought you’d deserted us.”
Meredith flashed the group a brilliant smile.
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