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That night, as I lay in bed, it occurred to me that with Anita going off to school, and my mother off on her travels, I was truly alone. I knew it was silly, but I had imagined that Anita and I would be friends forever. I hadn’t thought there would ever be a day when she would really leave me. But I guess we were both growing up. Maybe her place was typing school. And she seemed to be pushing me in the same direction as my mother had: to marry some boring lord. All I wanted was to escape the stifling life my mother was trying to thrust upon me. And now Anita was sticking me in the same box.

Perdita snuggled up against me in bed, and I stroked her soft fur, wondering how it had all gone so terribly wrong, wondering why Anita didn’t love me as I’d hoped she did. And wondering if I couldn’t persuade Miss Pricket to stay with me. Because without Anita, I had no one.

The rest of Anita’s visit was awkward. She spent most of her time downstairs visiting with the servants, and I busied myself with the running of the household. Mama had written to say she was coming home. I was hoping Anita would be headed back to school before Mama returned, but Jackson received word she would be arriving that night—Anita’s last night. We would have to suffer a quiet, strained dinner together. At least it was just for one night, and Anita would be gone the next morning. My mother could yell at me all she wanted then.

The dining room table was set to perfection, and the room was almost overwhelmed by flowers and candles. I looked perfect. Something about putting on my old trappings made me feel like myself again. And it made me miss my mama. Especially now that Anita was leaving me.

I’d decided to give my mama a grand welcome. I wanted us to be friends again. And I wanted everything to go perfectly. If only Anita hadn’t been there, but it couldn’t be helped. At that point I was just terribly disappointed with her. And she, too, seemed disappointed with me. Things felt different between us. Only now, in retrospect, do I see our friendship really ended the night she refused to travel the world with me. The night she picked a mundane life over one of adventure, with me.

In my mind, preparing for my mama’s return was just as important as having the Queen to dinner. I made sure to dress impeccably, taking care to wear Papa’s jade earrings and one of my loveliest dresses. I had the servants working all day t

o make sure the dining room was perfectly decorated, and the menu featured all of my mama’s favorites. Jackson had advised me that there would be an extra guest for dinner, a guest of my mama’s. I was curious who she would be bringing with her, but I was happy for the extra guest, so it wouldn’t just be me, Mama, and Anita. One thing I learned at Miss Upturn’s is that even numbers at dinner are always better.

Anita and I were in the morning room when Mama walked in. Following behind her was an exquisitely handsome man. He was older than me by a handful of years. Still, he was youthful, and decidedly American. He didn’t have that stuffiness that the men in London pride themselves on. And he wasn’t afraid to show his emotions or say what was on his mind.

“Cruella, my dear,” my mother said, by way of greeting me for the first time in weeks, “this is Lord Shortbottom. I met him on my travels, and then quite by chance we were on the same return ship to London. I knew at once he was someone you had to meet, and I just had to invite him to dinner, especially after he told me he would otherwise be dining alone at his club this evening. I was sure you wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. Welcome to our home, Lord Shortbottom—” But the brazen man interrupted me.

“Please, do call me Jack. I’ve been telling your mother to do the same, but she always insists on formalities. I do hope you won’t be scandalized by my unconventional ways, Lady Cruella.”

“Indeed not, Jack,” I said, taking a good look at him before I introduced him to Anita. “And please let me introduce you to my dear friend Anita. We’ve been friends since we were girls together.”

Jack made a great show of going to Anita and kissing her hand. “Enchanted, my dear. Simply enchanted.” But his eyes were on me. Jack was almost too slick, too charming, and I wondered how it was that he’d befriended my mother. He wasn’t her sort. Clearly he had money enough, but his breeding and lordship were in question. Jackson poured us drinks before dinner. We sat in the morning room sipping them while we waited for the gong. All the while I studied Jack as he told us of his travels and adventures around the world. I found I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. I was mesmerized by Jack already. He had a place in my heart almost the moment I laid eyes on him.

Through our conversations it became clear Jack had a fortune of his own, and a great deal more he was coming into. It was a great relief to hear of his many estates, here and in America, because then I knew his flirtations with me weren’t about trying to get his hands on my money. And as for the question of his lordship, well, he was some distant cousin or another of a baronet who didn’t have an heir to inherit, so everything was left to Jack. And suddenly I understood how this American got his handle. But the name Lord Shortbottom sounded ridiculous. I giggled to myself just thinking of it, happy he’d suggested I call him Jack.

Dinner was much livelier than I had imagined it would be. Mama directed the conversation to Jack whenever possible. She took pains to also include Anita when she could, and asked us about my birthday and our time together. In spite of the recent awkwardness with Anita, I was so happy Mama was making an effort with her. She knew how important she was to me, and I had been dreading to see how she would behave. I’d thought Mama would be angry she was there. It gave me hope that my mother was as eager as I was to mend our relationship.

“We had a lovely party for Cruella downstairs,” Anita said. I glanced at her sharply and realized she was trying to get a rise out of my mother. She had been that way since our debacle of a dinner, snippy and rude, and impatient with me. Mama’s eyes almost popped out of her head with anger, but Jack took it all in stride.

“Well, isn’t that a scream?” he said. “I’ve heard stories about old families and their relationships with their servants, and I think it’s quaint.”

“You come from a very old family, Lord Shortbottom, though growing up an American I can see how your experience might be very different,” said my mother, composing herself and trying to change the subject. I didn’t understand why Anita was trying to ruin our evening. Why would she say something she knew would anger my mother? Especially since she knew I was clearly trying to make amends with her.

“Oh, I think I fancied my cook, like most children did growing up in houses like these. She was like a second mother to me, really. Doting on me, sending me all my favorites when I was away at boarding school. Scolding me when my boots got muddy, but then turning around and arranging some little celebration in the kitchen for me on special days. So I would have something a little less formal and homier. I’m guessing you love your cook as much as I loved mine.”

“Oh yes, Cruella adores Mrs. Baddeley. She is also like a second mother, to both of us,” said Anita, needling my mama again for some reason.

“I do adore her,” I said, kicking Anita under the table, hoping it would make her stop with these provocative comments.

“Why, Mrs. Baddeley is the only person Cruella would trust to care for her sweet Perdita, aside from me.”

Blast! I hadn’t told Mama about Perdita yet.

“Perdita? Who is Perdita?” my mother asked.

“My puppy. We can talk about it after dinner, Mama,” I said, shooting a look at Anita and kicking her again. Harder this time. And then I added, “Should the ladies withdraw to the drawing room?”

Thank goodness Jackson intervened, saving us from an uncomfortable conversation in front of our guest. “Would the gentleman like some port before he joins the ladies in the drawing room?”

“Yes, I would, Jackson.” Jack gave him a wide Clark Gable smile. A smile I was already growing to love and adore. A smile that reminded me of someone. Someone I loved and missed terribly.

We ladies went into the drawing room, knowing we didn’t have much time before Jack would join us. I didn’t want to discuss Perdita that evening. I was angry with Anita for bringing her up at dinner. Honestly, I was completely taken aback by Anita’s attitude in general.

“Mama, I wanted to wait until later to tell you about Perdita. She’s a dear creature. And a gift from Papa. He meant to give her to me on my eighteenth birthday.” My mother flinched at the mention of Papa.

“What do you mean, Cruella? What are you saying?”

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