The Granville Sisters by Una-Mary Parker

They’re lovers? Engaged to be married? Do let me know when the wedding’s taking place, won’t you?’ she said sarcastically.
    Liza stood at the foot of the bed, like a tragic figurehead.
    ‘He was
about
to propose to Rosie.’
    ‘Like it’s
about
to rain? Mummy. He’s a free agent. He could never have been all that keen on Rosie in the first place, or he wouldn’t have kept me on the dance floor all night.’
    ‘But you stole him from your sister,’ Liza said, on a rising shrill note.
    ‘I did not. It’s not my fault if he finds me more attractive, you know. Anyway, I didn’t know Rosie was really serious about him, because she’d never said a word to me. You never mentioned him either, which is very strange if you’d hoped he’d become your son-in-law.’
    Liza bit her bottom lip with vexation. ‘That was because …’ she began uncertainly and then stopped.
    Juliet seized the moment with relish. ‘Exactly! You didn’t want me to know about him, because you thought he’d make a perfect husband for your precious Rosie.’
    Liza blushed and looked confused.
    Juliet continued; ‘So last night I saw no reason not to be friendly, did I? Edward Courtney introduced us, Alastair asked me to dance and we got on so well …’
    ‘Stop! Stop …’ Liza raised her hands as if to push Juliet’s words away.
    ‘Don’t you want me to make a good marriage, Mummy?’ she asked wistfully, hugging her knees with her slim arms. ‘Don’t you want me to make you proud of me?’ She tilted her head to one side and her pale blue eyes held a look of hurt. Beneath her abrasive manner there were moments when she appeared like a four-year-old who was being scolded just for being herself.
    ‘Of course I want you to make a good marriage, darling,’ Liza said guiltily, ‘but Rosie has to come first …’
    ‘Why?
Why?
’
    ‘Because, well, because she’s the eldest. It would be terribly humiliating for her if her younger sister got married first.’
    ‘No, it’s because she’s your favourite,’ Juliet burst out, her voice thick with unshed tears. ‘Don’t pretend she isn’t, because everyone knows she is. She always has been. Everything has to be for Rosie.’
    ‘That’s not true, darling. Daddy and I want
all
of you to do well and have happy lives.’
    Juliet raised her chin. ‘Good. Then I’ll marry first and Rosie can have my leavings.’
    Alastair was already seated at a table in the window of London’s most fashionable tea room.
    ‘Juliet,’ he greeted her, rising and coming forward as soon as she entered.
    ‘Hello,’ she replied, giving a low sexy chuckle. She glanced askance at the white damask-covered table, set with gilt-edged white china. ‘Can we perhaps …? My mother thinks I’m out shopping and the whole of London will spot us if we sit in the window.’
    Alastair looked abashed. ‘I never thought. Sorry.’ He quickly asked for a table at the back of the restaurant, grinning sheepishly as they took their seats. ‘It shows you how unaccustomed I am to taking young ladies out to tea. I live in the sticks these days; my etiquette is a bit rusty.’
    She smiled beguilingly, but said nothing.
    When he’d ordered China tea for both of them, and a selection of sandwiches and tiny cakes frosted with icing sugar, he said, ‘It’s wonderful to see you again, Juliet. I was beginning to wonder if last night had just been a marvellous dream.’
    ‘I woke up wondering the same thing,’ she admitted.
    Then he frowned. ‘Will your mother mind awfully, your meeting me like this?’
    Juliet regarded him from under the straw brim of her hat. ‘She worries about things like reputations.’
    ‘Yours or mine?’ he countered swiftly, with an engaging grin.
    She laughed. ‘Definitely yours!’
    Their conversation continued in a bright and breezy way, as if they were dipping their toes in the water, hovering on the edge of real intimacy, which for the time being suited Juliet very well. She could