The Brahmin Ball (A Sweet Historical Romance Novella) (Brahmin Brides Book 1) by Julianna Blake
Authors: Julianna Blake
Ads: Link
the carpet as someone pushed open the door and entered unannounced.
I really need to keep that door closed—everyone seems to take it as an invitation these days. It was bad enough that the room she occupied was foreign to her, now that they had left their home and moved in with their uncle. But the last few days her mother and sisters had been a constant nuisance, always trying to make her come downstairs, go out for a walk, or attend some silly social event.
Madeline had been right to fear the revelation of their secret—it had only brought them heartache. Why subject herself to that, all over again?
“I’ve brought you a tray of tea and cookies,” Madeline said from behind.
Grace remained in her wing chair, which she had turned to face the window.
“You didn’t need to do that, Madeline. I’m really not hungry.” Grace didn’t lift her gaze from her book. She’d been on the same page for over an hour, but the weight of it in her hands gave her the comfort that a security blanket might give a young child.
“You’ve been saying that for over a week, now. You’re wasting away, and Mother will only complain if you become any more gaunt in the face.” She nearly toppled the tray when her skirt caught on the edge of the small table by Grace’s chair. Righting herself just in time, she set the tray on the ottoman.
“Honestly, I don’t know how the maids do it! I know our dresses are fuller than theirs, but still, how can they keep their clothing from getting caught and keep the tray upright?”
Grace almost smiled at her sister’s consternation. “Why didn’t Margaret bring it up?”
Madeline shot her a look of annoyance. “Because Uncle has informed Mother that he won’t hire extra staff to attend to our needs, nor can he have us tying up his servants all day, so we must manage our own needs as much as possible.”
Grace took the cup her sister poured for her, and hesitated, gazing into its contents. “Does that mean you made this tea?” She resisted the urge to pucker her lips in anticipation of its taste.
“Heavens, no!” Madeline poured her own tea and took a seat in the wing chair that flanked her sister’s. “I wouldn’t drink it if I had. Can you imagine? No, it means that if we miss the family’s scheduled meal times, we will be responsible to go down and fetch our own trays, and bring them back to the kitchen when we’re done, as well. I think I know how Cinderella feels.”
“Cinderella wore rags and scrubbed floors. We are not so indigent, yet.”
“Oh, if Uncle Henry has anything to say about it, we might become so. I don’t know what Aunt Sarah saw in him when they courted.”
“His money. Mother married well, and Aunt Sarah always had to outdo her.”
“My, my, you are becoming the cynical one.”
“Someone has to. What other position am I to occupy? Clara is the free spirit, and you’re the idealist.”
“I was .” Madeline sighed, staring into her cup. “Not so much, anymore. Our situation has forced me to become practical. But don’t let it sour your disposition, Grace. You’ve always been the softhearted one. Don’t let this harden you.”
“I can stand the decrease in our circumstances. I can even withstand the titters of our peers, like Eliza. She has always been mean-spirited. But it’s witnessing those who we thought were kind—who we thought cared about us—abandoning us so easily…” She shook her head, setting the tea aside untouched. “Have we not suffered enough abandonment in the last year or so?”
Madeline’s face melted into sympathy. “You only just met him—or at least, you only just met him again. It was a few dances. There will be other gentlemen calling on you in the future, Grace.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know that I have it in me to believe that. I finally begin to open my heart, and I am rejected out of hand for it, simply for my misfortune. I’d have expected it from another Brahmin, but Mr. Gladstone has
I really need to keep that door closed—everyone seems to take it as an invitation these days. It was bad enough that the room she occupied was foreign to her, now that they had left their home and moved in with their uncle. But the last few days her mother and sisters had been a constant nuisance, always trying to make her come downstairs, go out for a walk, or attend some silly social event.
Madeline had been right to fear the revelation of their secret—it had only brought them heartache. Why subject herself to that, all over again?
“I’ve brought you a tray of tea and cookies,” Madeline said from behind.
Grace remained in her wing chair, which she had turned to face the window.
“You didn’t need to do that, Madeline. I’m really not hungry.” Grace didn’t lift her gaze from her book. She’d been on the same page for over an hour, but the weight of it in her hands gave her the comfort that a security blanket might give a young child.
“You’ve been saying that for over a week, now. You’re wasting away, and Mother will only complain if you become any more gaunt in the face.” She nearly toppled the tray when her skirt caught on the edge of the small table by Grace’s chair. Righting herself just in time, she set the tray on the ottoman.
“Honestly, I don’t know how the maids do it! I know our dresses are fuller than theirs, but still, how can they keep their clothing from getting caught and keep the tray upright?”
Grace almost smiled at her sister’s consternation. “Why didn’t Margaret bring it up?”
Madeline shot her a look of annoyance. “Because Uncle has informed Mother that he won’t hire extra staff to attend to our needs, nor can he have us tying up his servants all day, so we must manage our own needs as much as possible.”
Grace took the cup her sister poured for her, and hesitated, gazing into its contents. “Does that mean you made this tea?” She resisted the urge to pucker her lips in anticipation of its taste.
“Heavens, no!” Madeline poured her own tea and took a seat in the wing chair that flanked her sister’s. “I wouldn’t drink it if I had. Can you imagine? No, it means that if we miss the family’s scheduled meal times, we will be responsible to go down and fetch our own trays, and bring them back to the kitchen when we’re done, as well. I think I know how Cinderella feels.”
“Cinderella wore rags and scrubbed floors. We are not so indigent, yet.”
“Oh, if Uncle Henry has anything to say about it, we might become so. I don’t know what Aunt Sarah saw in him when they courted.”
“His money. Mother married well, and Aunt Sarah always had to outdo her.”
“My, my, you are becoming the cynical one.”
“Someone has to. What other position am I to occupy? Clara is the free spirit, and you’re the idealist.”
“I was .” Madeline sighed, staring into her cup. “Not so much, anymore. Our situation has forced me to become practical. But don’t let it sour your disposition, Grace. You’ve always been the softhearted one. Don’t let this harden you.”
“I can stand the decrease in our circumstances. I can even withstand the titters of our peers, like Eliza. She has always been mean-spirited. But it’s witnessing those who we thought were kind—who we thought cared about us—abandoning us so easily…” She shook her head, setting the tea aside untouched. “Have we not suffered enough abandonment in the last year or so?”
Madeline’s face melted into sympathy. “You only just met him—or at least, you only just met him again. It was a few dances. There will be other gentlemen calling on you in the future, Grace.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know that I have it in me to believe that. I finally begin to open my heart, and I am rejected out of hand for it, simply for my misfortune. I’d have expected it from another Brahmin, but Mr. Gladstone has
Similar Books
