“Y-yes, but Your Grace, you told me to go with him.”
Not even a clink of silverware interrupted the silence that ensued. I wished I hadn’t said anything. Arguing with the duchess? I must have gone mad.
“Stand up,” the duchess said softly.
My legs stood on their own accord, barely able to support my weight.
“Look at me when I address you, Miss Flora.”
I lifted my chin. The duchess’s gaze was steely, intensified by her slate-colored irises. I made out the harsh creases between her brows. Hers was not a face that had seen much joy.
“Repeat after me,” she said crisply. Her voice rung out in the banquet hall. “I will not flirt with inconsequential men.”
My breath caught at my throat. “B-But, Your Grace—”
“I said, Miss Flora, repeat after me.”
I clasped my hands behind me, wishing that the silence weren’t so deafening. “I...I will not flirt with inconsequential men,” I said.
“Louder, Miss Flora, for the young ladies in the back.”
“I will not flirt with inconsequential men.”
Snickers sounded from the head of the table. Julianna’s was the loudest. I hated how my eyes prickled.
“Very good. Do well to remember that.” The duchess swept away, heels clicking against the marble. She clapped her hands. “Now, let us start dessert.”
THROUGHOUT DESSERT, Genevieve threw me concerned looks I pretended not to notice. Tori opened and closed her mouth, as if wanting to speak but thinking better of it. It was a good thing she did because I was too mortified to do anything but eat my slice of cake, hoping that each swallow would push down the tears that threatened to spill onto my plate.
Why should I cry? It wasn’t as if I wanted to impress the duchess in the first place.
When the banquet ended, we all were escorted outside to wait for our carriages. The night air and hazy lights eased the tension in my throat and I managed to join Genevieve and Tori’s lighthearted debate on whether Lady Hortensia’s gown was lime green or chartreuse. My comfort, however, was short lived.
“What a humiliating performance!” Julianna’s voice pierced through the murmur of conversation as she sauntered toward me. A few debutantes stopped and stared.
“Julianna,” Genevieve said, crossing her arms. “We were talking.” My stepsister looked almost hostile, which I would have marveled at if I weren’t dizzy with indignation.
“I cannot imagine what Madam Lydia was thinking, letting you attend the Season,” Julianna said, tossing a curl behind her shoulder. She sneered at me, her eyes lingering on the wrinkled, wet stain at the front of my dress. “Flirting with the staff. Really, Amarante, have you no shame?”
Tori stepped forward. “Have you no shame bullying people when you know perfectly well they did nothing wrong?” she said.
Julianna scoffed. “And who might you be?”
“Lady Victoria Strongfoot, daughter of Lord Strongfoot,” Tori said.
“Oh. The blacksmith’s daughter. You say those titles as if they mean something, peasant girl,” Julianna said.
“Repeat that and I’ll—”
I pulled Tori back before she did any damage. “What do you want, Julianna?” I said, glaring. Hadn’t she humiliated me enough?
“I wonder what the Sternfelds would think if they hear about this,” Julianna said with a sly smirk. “How improper for a soon-to-be lord to be associating with such...promiscuous young ladies.” Her eyes slid from me to my stepsister. It didn’t take long for me to get her meaning.
She was jealous of Cedric’s interest in Genevieve. What would happen once news of my blunder spread to the neighborhood? Genevieve and I would be labeled as shameless flirts. Lord Gideon made it evident last week that he disapproved of us. The gossip would no doubt push him over the edge and Cedric would no longer be able to look at Genevieve without judgment.
And Lydia. What would Lydia do once she discovers that my mistakes cost Genevieve her reputation and the affection of a rich suitor?
Julianna grew even more smug at my reaction. I had never wanted to box her face so badly. Even so, I controlled myself. Starting a brawl at the palace wouldn’t improve my situation.
“So? You’ll gossip whether I want you to or not,” I said steadily, though I was anything but.
Genevieve took my hand. “The Sternfelds have better judgment than you think, Julianna,” she said coolly. “It’s your word against ours.”
I squeezed my stepsister’s fingers, beyond relieved to have her support though her reputation was on the line because of me. My only hope was Julianna would buy our bluff.
Julianna’s face grew tomato red. “Forget the Sternfelds! They clearly have no taste in good society,” she said, narrowing her eyes at me. “Just you wait, Amarante. Everyone who is anyone will hear about your behavior tonight.” With that, she harrumphed and stomped away.
I let go of a breath. It was just me she wanted to humiliate now, but I still couldn’t afford to have Lord Gideon or Lydia hear about this. Whether she meant to or not, Julianna would ruin Genevieve’s coming out if she ruined mine.
“Nicely handled,” Tori said as she watched my neighbor’s retreating figure.
Genevieve touched my arm. “Don’t worry, Amarante. She probably doesn’t mean it.”
How I hoped that were true.
5
The cold mornings grew shorter and the sun began to cast its sweltering rays on the earth below. June was fast approaching and with that the Debutante Ball, marking the commencement of the dreaded Season.
A week had passed since the Welcome Banquet Disaster with Duchess Wilhelmina. Lydia had no clue of my blunder as Genevieve left it out when recounting our time at the palace. I spent days brewing over Julianna’s threat. I almost expected to wake up to taunts and rotten eggs thrown at our windows, but I was only met with silence. It was the silence that worried me.
It could only mean Julianna was waiting for a bigger, wealthier audience. An audience like the guests of the Debutante Ball. No doubt she decided that exposing me in high society
