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“My lady, surely you cannot mean to waste expense and time on my plain, wholly unexceptional sister, when both would be so much better spent on the more attractive of the pair of us. The little toad is hardly worth the effort, and I fear you’ll find the outcome most unsatisfactory.”
Adelinda tilted her head and summoned her syrupiest, most beguiling fake-as-a-purple-wig-on-donkey expression. The calculated one that inevitably ensured she acquired whatever the pampered darling coveted at the moment.
“Thank you for your kind words, sister.” Jemmah couldn’t attribute the acidic taste on her tongue to the lemonade she’d just choked on.
How could Adelinda be such a cruel, insensitive bacon-brain?
Adelinda laughed, the often practiced before her looking glass tinkle ringing hollow and shrill rather than light and musical. Snapping her fan open, she fiddled with the spines, expectation still arcing her winged brows.
Dense as black bread.
“Hmph.”
A sound very much like a stifled snort or oath escaped Lady Lockhart. She fumbled in her reticule for a moment then glanced up in triumph as she withdrew a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles. “Aha, here they are.”
She extended them to Adelinda.
“I believe you are in more need of these than I am, if you think your sister is inferior to you in any way, but most especially in comeliness.”
In a soundless challenge, the dowager’s eyebrows crept upward as well.
They glared at each other, brows elevated and eyes shooting daggers in a silent battle.
At the imagery of Lady Lockhart’s and Adelinda’s eyebrows jousting, Jemmah muffled a giggle.
“I simply cannot believe this treachery.” Adelinda averted her gaze first, and in her typical harrying fashion, turned an accusatory scowl on Jemmah. “How long have you been scheming behind my back, Germ? Worming your way into her ladyship’s good graces so you could steal this opportunity from me?”
“You know as well as I, Adelinda, that I rarely am permitted to attend these functions, and I haven’t had the pleasure of Lady Lockhart’s company in months. And—”
“One year, two months, and ... ah ...” Lady Lockhart scrunched her eyes as she examined the ceiling, her mouth working silently. “...twelve days. Valentine’s Day last year, it was.”
She veered her knowing gaze at Jemmah. “You spent most of the afternoon hiding in the library.”
How on earth had she remembered that?
Mama seemed to rouse herself from her gawking stupor and touched Adelinda’s forearm. “We’ll discuss this later, darling.”
After taking a long pull from her teacup, God knew she needed it after a confrontation with Adelinda and Mama, the dowager bestowed a satisfied smile on Jemmah. “After tea tomorrow, we’ll need to see to acquiring you a wardrobe suitable for a young woman of your new station.”
“But... but…” Jealousy contorting her face, and seemingly oblivious to the small crowd that had gathered, hanging onto each recklessly-spoken word, Adelinda planted her hands on her hips and confronted their mother.
“Mama, tell Germ she can’t. You won’t allow it.”
Jemmah straightened.
No. No. No.
They would not steal this opportunity from her.
Mama opened her mouth, but before she could affirm Adelinda, Aunt Theo’s voice cut the air, firm and unrelenting.
“Oh, she’ll allow it, all right.”
They swung their attention to Aunt Theo, her approach having gone unnoticed due to Adelinda’s unbecoming show of temper and the semi-circle of intrigued spectators blocking their view.
Smiling at her guests, Aunt Theo angled her head before suggesting, “I’m sure you’ll allow me a moment for a private family conversation.”
As Aunt Theo cordially looped her arms in Mama’s and Adelinda’s elbows, the onlookers scattered like roaches in sunlight. Drawing her mother and sister nearer, Aunt Theo dipped her head, her face granite hard.
“You’ve overstepped the bounds, Theodora. I shall determine which of my daughters is most suited for the position.” Mama slid Adelinda a smug, sideway glance.
“As I said, Belinda, you will allow Jemmah this honor. Because if you refuse,” Aunt Theo directed her wrath squarely at Adelinda, “this selfish, spoiled bratling will feel the full effects of my displeasure, and I assure you, after I’m done, a haberdasher won’t consider Adelinda for his wife.”