“That seems straightforward.”
“It is. The second category is more complicated: rules that people believe matter but which are actually negotiable. Proper mourning periods. Acceptable topics of conversation. The precise timing of calling hours. These rules can be bent or broken by anyone with sufficient status or sufficient audacity, and the consequences are temporary rather than permanent.”
“And the third category?”
“Rules that are purely performative. Conventions that exist only because everyone has agreed to pretend they exist. The proper number of courses at dinner. The appropriate fabrics for afternoon wear. The exact degree of enthusiasm one should display when greeting acquaintances.” Serena smiled slightly.
“These rules can be ignored entirely by anyone who is interesting enough to get away with it.”
“And you believe I’m interesting enough?”
“I believe you’re exactly interesting enough to make society wonder whether they should be following your lead rather than judging your failures.” Serena crossed back to her chair and sat down with deliberate grace.
“You’re not a debutante who needs to be moulded into acceptable shape. You are a woman of intelligence and competence who happens to be entering society under unusual circumstances. That is an asset, not a liability.”
Mel considered this perspective. It was not how she had been thinking about her situation. She had been preparing for battle, expecting to defend herself against constant attack. Serena was suggesting something different, not defense, but offense. Not survival, but success.
“You think I should go on the attack?”
“I think you should be exactly who you are, without apology or modification. Society expects you to be intimidated, grateful and desperate for acceptance. When you’re none of those things, when you meet their scrutiny with calm competence and complete indifference to their opinions, they won’t know how to respond.”
“That seems optimistic.”
“It seems accurate. I’ve watched society destroy women who tried to please everyone and elevate women who refused to try at all. The difference is confidence. Not arrogance, mind you, that’s easily dismissed. Genuine confidence, the kind that comes from knowing your own worth and refusing to be diminished by other people’s judgments.”
Mel thought about her years of service, about the careful competence she had cultivated to ensure her survival. She had always believed that competence was her greatest asset, the thing that made her indispensable. But she had wielded itdefensively, as protection against dismissal rather than as a tool for advancement.
“You’re suggesting I use the same skills I have always used, but with different intentions.”
“I’m suggesting you stop hiding.” Serena’s voice carried an edge of something that might have been admiration.
“You’ve spent your life making yourself useful while remaining invisible. You cannot be invisible as the Duchess of Trevane. The question is whether you will let society define your visibility or whether you will define it yourself.”
The door opened before Mel could respond, and three small figures burst into the room with the particular energy of children who had been promised they could meet the important visitor after their lessons.
“Is this the lady who’s going to help Miss Grace become a duchess?” Thistle demanded, skidding to a halt in front of Serena’s chair.
“Because Miss Grace is already very good at being in charge of things. She probably doesn’t need help.”
“Thistle.” Mel’s voice carried the familiar note of affectionate exasperation.
“We discussed appropriate introductions.”
“I introduced myself. I’m Thistle. This is Anna, and this is Viola. We’re the duke’s daughters, and we have a toad namedBrutus and another toad named Caesar and seventeen beetles in the collection room.”
Serena’s expression shifted from composed to delight.
“Seventeen beetles. That’s quite impressive. Do they all have names?”
“Some of them. The ones with distinctive markings. Viola draws them and I write descriptions and Anna organises everything into categories.” Thistle paused, considering. “Are you really going to teach Miss Grace how to be a duchess? Because she’s already very good at things. She taught Viola to read aloud and she taught Anna to be less bossy and she taught me the proper names for all my specimens.”
“I’m not going to teach her how to be a duchess. I’m going to help her understand which parts of being a duchess actually matter.” Serena glanced at Mel with evident amusement. “Your Miss Grace has already mastered the important things. I’m simply going to help her navigate the unimportant ones.”
Anna had been observing this exchange with her characteristic analytical attention. Now she stepped forward, her expression serious.
“Lady Serena, may I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
