AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER1
“Upon my word, I have never met a more unmarriageable female in my entire life!”
Emily Montgomery flinched under her stepmother’s scathing tirade, her gaze naturally falling back to the carpeted floor. In her second season, she was met with disappointment yet again in her efforts of finding a suitor.
She glanced bitterly at her reflection on the polished mirror, staring dully at the brown eyes that stared back at her. Her flaming red hair, which her stepmother had often declared brazen and wild, was pulled back severely from her face so that whatever feminine charms she had left were practically obliterated.
“It might help if Emily would dress better,” her father, the Marquess of Rutbridge, gently suggested although his brown eyes suggested he was somewhat worried about his eldest daughter, too.
At his mild, almost placating tone, his wife turned her scornful gaze to him. “Have you any idea how much these gowns cost?” Horatia Montgomery demanded. “This is already Emily’s second season, and if we spend any more on her, there will be none left to spend on Amy’s coming out!”
From her place on the other side of the room, Amy shot her stepsister a gloating look, her blue eyes boring into Emily’s with piercing clarity. Amy smiled a little before turning back to her book, happy to let the entire scene play out before her without her interference.
“Emily is still young,” the Marquess insisted. “I am certain there will be a suitor soon.”
“Well, there had better be!” the Marchioness snapped. “She has embarrassed us long enough. How will Amy ever be able to hold her head up if her stepsister continues to be a dismal failure?” She swiveled towards Emily, who instinctively shifted her gaze to the carpet at her feet. “Tonight, we go to the Hawthorne ball. Make sure you do better than you did the last time!”
With that parting remark, Horatia Montgomery swept out of the room in a huff, the scent of expensive perfume trailing behind her. Her daughter, Amy, shot her older sister one last triumphant look before quietly following after her mother.
Emily cast one glance at her father, who looked just as defeated as she was.
“I…should go and prepare for the ball,” she mumbled.
“Your mother means well, child,” he sighed. “It is just that…she has a rather strong opinion on things.”
Lady Horatia Montgomery had a rather strong opinion onmanythings, and most of them involved her husband’s children from his first marriage. She could hardly control Benedict, Emily’s older brother, and ever since the title of Earl was passed onto him, he had become even more of a thorn in his stepmother’s side.
Emily, however, was a different matter altogether, and Horatia exercised as much control as she could over this one daughter, who would not even speak up for herself.
Emily nodded quietly before scurrying out of the salon and back to her rooms. As soon as she closed the door, she sagged against it and sighed in relief, closing her eyes as she thought of the last ball she had attended two nights past.
Unlike the other young ladies of her limited acquaintance, she was unversed in the art of snagging and holding the attention of any man. She spent most of her time in the shadows, watching as her friends were led to the dance floor one by one.
Except her—she was a wallflower through and through.
A timid knock snapped her out of her thoughts, and she opened the door to find her maid, Jenny Harris, looking at her with wide eyes. At a score and five years, she was Emily’s closest friend and confidante. As with most in her station, Emily considered her more worldly although Jenny’s suggestions had more often landed Emily in hot water than brought her any real success.
Jenny led her mistress firmly to the vanity and declared quite loyally, “Methinks you should pay her no heed, Milady. Ye can snag any young man ye wish if ye but put the slightest effort into it!”
Emily sighed and smiled tremulously at the maid from the reflection in the mirror. “You do not need to appease me, Jenny. I am well aware of my limitations.”
“Well, if Her Ladyship only put more effort into yer gowns, there’d be less trouble, that’s what!” the maid scoffed. “I’ve never seen such hideous gowns in me entire life, and I’ve seen some truly ugly ones, I have.”
Emily pursed her lips to keep from laughing. On that account, she could agree—the dresses that her stepmother had bought for her truly werehideous. On any other young lady, they might have been passable, but with her brilliant red hair, those pallid pastels only made her look wan and sickly—hardly the traits a man would want in a wife.
And if the colors were not washed out, Lady Rutbridge picked out the most outdated styles that made Emily the laughingstock of many gatherings amongst the Ton. There was one particular gown that Emily could recall that had a rather high neckline that practically declared her a spinster!
“I’ve seen the gown she’d chosen for the ball tonight,” Jenny scowled. “Ugliest thing I’d ever seen, that one. Good thing I’m a bit handy with needle and thread!”
Emily’s brown eyes widened at her maid’s words. “You—what did you do with it, Jenny?”
“Fixed it, I did!”
With a flourish, Jenny presented her a gown of silk in soft, warm brown with a shimmering, gauzy overdress in pale gold. Emily’s eyes were drawn to the low-cut square neckline edged with a playful ruffle of lace and the empire-waisted bodice adorned with a discreet sprinkling of pale gold beads.
The maid truly outdid herself with this one—it was far more beautiful than any other gown Emily had worn before. Still, it was nothing like the fancy gowns that the other young ladies of her age paraded around in the ballrooms of London.
Emily shook her head. “Oh no! No, no, no! I cannot possibly wear this one!”
