Lifting a hand, she rapped smartly, and heard all conversation end inside the room.
“Enter,” came her mother’s clipped tones. Felicity drew in a breath and obeyed.
Mrs Thornhill, resplendent in pearls and blue-grey satin, held court in the centre of the room, with Daniel perched on a low sofa opposite. They both got to their feet as Felicity entered, and Mrs Thornhill glided towards her. She leaned forward, and another person might assume she meant to kiss her daughter, but Felicity knew better.
Dutifully, she held out her hands for inspection, and Mrs Thornhill eyed them suspiciously, checking for dirt under the nails.
“Humph,” she muttered at last. “Your hands are getting coarse, Felicity.”
“Sorry, Mama.”
“Sit down and pour some tea for us all. I want to talk to you.”
Felicity obeyed, dutifully sinking onto the sofa beside Daniel, and carefully poured three cups of tea. Usually, Mrs Thornhill had one of the servants do it, but she preferred to see Felicity doing domestic chores whenever she could.
Apparently, she did not do enough.
Mrs Thornhill’s embroidery lay beside her, carefully laid down so as to display the rich colours and skill, but also seeming almost careless, as if she hadn’tintendedto display it.
It was almost funny. Felicity thought of her own embroidery, with the rough stitching and patchy parts, and suppressed a smile.
“What are you laughing at, Felicity?” Mrs Thornhill said, voice sharp. “I saw you digging around in the gardens this morning like an animal. It is truly shocking, I must say. I was ashamed for Daniel to see you in such a state.”
Felicity’s cheeks burned, but she was careful not to react.
She’s only doing it because she cares,she reminded herself, although it was getting harder and harder to see it.
“And what’s that smell?” Mrs Thornhill theatrically sniffed the air. “The herb garden is not doing you any favours. You smell like a farm kitchen.”
“There are worse things to smell of,” Felicity muttered, before she could stop herself.
Mrs Thornhill pressed her lips together. “Why can’t you use rosewater, like other ladies? Oh, it hardly matters. I have some good news, Felicity.”
Felicity finished pouring out the tea and sat back. She didn’t dare hope that it wasactuallygood news.
By way of answer, Mrs Thornhill pushed a gilt-edged invitation across the table towards her, not quite able to hold back a smile.
“Well?” she said, expectantly. “What do you think?”
“It’s from Lanwood,” Felicity responded, leaning over it. “We’re invited to a soiree.”
“Yes! Isn’t that exciting? They’ve asked us to stay for a few days, in fact, since we were such particular friends of the old earl. Oh, Daniel, I’m not sure if you are up to date on all of this. Poor old Lord Lanwood died – the earl, you know – and naturally there was no son, only that ugly old spinster daughter of his.So, the title and the estate went to some distant cousin, some soldier that nobody has ever heard of. The county was in quite a flutter, I can tell you.”
“I can imagine,” Daniel said, keeping a firm smile on his face. “Can I assume he is unmarried?”
“Heis,” Mrs Thornhill said, barely able to contain her excitement. “An earl, naturally, isquitea catch. Indeed, all the neighbouring ladies shall undoubtedly be captivated by his charm, leaving poor Felicity without a chance. Nevertheless, it is of little consequence. The Langleys were always so social, always throwing soirees and balls. It was a good opportunity for a lady looking to be married, since they knew just about everyone. See, Felicity? If you can find somebody before the Season starts proper, you might not have to join.”
Felicity bit her lip. She wondered, briefly, if there was any point saying that she didn’t want to go to the soiree.
Soirees and balls were, in her opinion, a resounding waste of time. They were too crowded to really enjoy conversation. If you liked dancing – which she did not – you could dance through your slippers if you so wished. Ladies were there to be looked at, and Felicity did not much like that.
People were never interested in her favourite subjects. If she told people she was interested in botany and gardening, they would invariably point out the flower arrangements on the tables, as if those were the same thing.
“We’re going, I assume?” Felicity managed. She hoped she didn’t soundtoomiserable, but apparently not. Mrs Thornhill’s face hardened.
“Daniel,” she said curtly, “Do give me a moment with my daughter.”
Daniel hesitated, as if he didn’t much want to leave Felicity alone.
