“You’ll use that time to study Minnie.” Mother gave her a sharp nod. “When you return home, you’ll be as refined and demure as she is, and the duke will be your suitor.”
“It’s more likely for me to win the next cricket cup.”
“Don’t joke. I want you to discover Minnie’s secret, and you’re going to do precisely what she does.”
Four
Brighton, 1892
Esther had got herself a poor bargain by following Minnie to Brighton. She’d swapped her controlled and restricted life in London for a controlled and restricted life in Brighton. Not very bright on her part.
But when Mother had convinced her to come by telling her that going to Brighton would be a wonderful holiday by the sea, she’d imagined an adventure full of excitement and surprises. Instead, she spent the days playing whist with Minnie, Mother, and the dowager.
She almost missed the propriety classes Mother ordered her to attend every week.
Mother and the dowager were two fierce players. They played every round as if the future of the kingdom depended on which cards they chose.
What was worse was that the weather, usually grey and cloudy all over England, was shiny and unseasonably warm. She would love to take a walk on the Chain Pier or visit the Royal Pavilion. The worst thing was that Alexander was nowhere to be seen.
Esther had arrived four days ago, and he wasn’t there.
“Your turn, darling,” Mother said.
“Oh, of course.” Another problem was that Esther was a terrible whist player, and when she played as the dowager’s partner, a fierce wave of anxiety bothered her.
From the other side of the table, the dowager shot her a poisonous glare that would kill a cobra. Not that Esther could blame her. So far, she hadn’t shone in the game.
Minnie arched a dark eyebrow, likely encouraging her to drop the right card. She was always so poised and prim that Esther felt small and inadequate.
She straightened her back and closed her elbows. She might be a poor whist player, but at least she would have grace.
“Remember what I told you,” the dowager said, lowering her glasses down her straight nose.
“Of course.” If only Esther knew what the dowager was referring to.
The old matron had given her more pieces of advice in a few days than her parents, grandparents, and tutors combined in nearly twenty-five years.
She lowered the two of diamonds; a safe card to play, surely.
“Esther!” the dowager said as Minnie said, “Are you sure, Esther?”
Mother pressed a finger to her temple. “Dear, dear.”
What had she done now?
“You played a lower honour,” the dowager answered her silent question, seemingly reading her mind. “I’m sure you have a higher card than that!”
Oh, bother. She had, but she hadn’t noticed it.
“May I?” Minnie tilted her head to take a peek at her cards. “Yes, she has.”
“Oh, enough!” The dowager dropped her cards on the table and stood up. “You’re doing it on purpose.”
She suppressed a shiver. “No, I promise. I’m genuine.”
“I meant that as a compliment because at least your card choices would be a deliberate attempt at sabotaging my game, instead of plain daftness. I’m not surprised you’re still unmarried.”
Mother put down the cards as well. “That’s unfair.”
