There were so many things she wanted to address, but she decided to start with the most pressing matter. “Emma is being rather vocal about going into mourning,” Mattie explained. “And she isn’t being very compassionate towards Franny.”
“This does not surprise me in the least,” her father remarked. “Emma has never been as tender-hearted as you.”
Mattie sank back into her chair. “Furthermore, I caught her flirting shamelessly with Lord Winston on our outing to the village.”
Her father’s expression turned disapproving at this revelation. “I do believe that Emma is determined to grow up far too quickly.”
“What should we do?” Mattie asked, feeling at a loss.
To her dismay, her father only shrugged. “This is precisely why I did not want you to have a Season this year. You are needed at home to tend to Emma.”
“Emma doesn’t need a nursemaid,” Mattie insisted. “And I do believe she will balk at hiring a governess for her.”
“Then what can we do to help her?” her father asked.
Mattie let out a deep breath. “I was hoping you would know,” she replied. “But I do believe that we have both coddled her for far too long. She has become rather self-absorbed.”
Her father rubbed his temples wearily. “If only Emma could be more like you. You have grown into such a fine young woman.”
“Thank you,” Mattie said, brushing the compliment aside. “Emma even had the audacity to suggest that I forgo next Season in favor of her debuting.”
Dropping his hand to his side, her father responded, “She said something similar to me. I tried to talk her out of it.”
“Well, it didn’t work, because she thinks it is a solution to all of her problems,” Mattie muttered as she tried to keep the anger out of her voice. Emma had been so rude to her, and insulted her, left and right. But the worst part was that Emma had no idea—or she did not care—about the pain she inflicted on other people.
Her father turned his attention towards theopen window. “What would your mother have done?” he asked, almost to himself.
“I was considering sending Emma off to a convent,” Mattie joked half-heartedly.
A soft chuckle escaped from her father’s lips. “I do not think that would solve anything.”
Mattie grew serious. “I was thinking we could move Franny into my bedchamber,” she said.
“But your room is the smallest.”
“I doubt that Emma will switch rooms with me, making it a moot point,” Mattie remarked. “But I grow tired of the jabs she makes at Franny about how she should be over her grief.”
Her father’s gaze met hers and his eyes looked tired. Defeated. “Your mother would have known how to help Emma,” he said with a wistful tone.
“Mother is not here, but you are,” Mattie stated firmly. “Emma needs a stern reminder of how to behave.”
“I have never been one to issue a stern rebuke, at least to my daughters,” her father admitted with a sigh. “But I do not share the same reservations for my congregation.”
There was a moment of strained silence as Mattie mustered up the courage to voice her next thought. “I was hoping you might reconsider Lady Dallington hosting me for a Season.”
Her father huffed. “Surely you cannot be serious?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “With everything we have discussed, you are needed more at home than ever.”
“No,” she said adamantly, shaking her head. “I do not think I can change Emma’s behavior. And I need to live my own life.”
“You will have your chance next Season,” her father asserted.
“Father…” Mattie started to protest.
Her father raised his hand, silencing her words. “I thought we had agreed that this was what was best for you.”
Mattie’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “You are wrong! This is what is best foryou,” she declared, her voice rising in frustration.
“Mattie, you are being unreasonable,” her father scolded.
