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“Verity, good, you are here. What do you think?” She lifted two types of glasses for me to see. “Which, in your opinion, is better for wine?”
I looked between them, eyes wide. “Are they not the same?”
The looks on the faces of all the staff showed I was clearly wrong.
Aphrodite chuckled. “They are not, this is Pacomé glass, much grander with a beautiful shine in the light. This is a Winston glass, a bit more commonplace but still quite nice and, most importantly, light in the hand.”
“Most importantly?”
“Yes, we do not wish our guests to be put off by the strain of carrying their glasses all night,” she answered. And even still I could barely see the difference. I was more amazed that she thought of such details.
“I shall leave it to your expertise.” I smiled as I took a seat by the window.
“Very well, we shall begin the night with the Pacomé and then afterward bring out the Winston,” she informed the servants around her. I watched, wondering if I could ever do the same.
I was not one for parties and I was not sure Theodore was either. But it was expected…then again, would we be able to afford it? For the first time I wondered what life would be like off such a grand estate…I was sure we would not be destitute but my life would change. It was a nerve-racking thought but neither glassware nor balls would deter my heart.
“Verity, I do not mean to press, but are you all right?” she questioned, gaining my attention. At this moment, she sounded and looked just like her mother. I had not even noticed the servants had gone from the room.
“You know you look very much like your mother.” I laughed, partially to deflect.
“Your brother said the same thing only this morning!” She frowned, her eyes plagued with horror. “Really?”
“Your mother is a great lady. Do you not wish to be the same?”
“I love my mama to bits, but I do not wish to become her.” She lifted her papers once more, but unlike her mother, who would have let the topic go, she paused and then shifted her gaze to me. “Have you fallen in love?”
“Me?” I panicked. “I—”
Before I could finish, the door opened, and my brother walked in, his face in confusion. “My dear, what exactly did you order that has the maids in such a fit? I just watched them rush toward the kitchen.”
She gasped and rose to her feet. “All of the cakes must be finished!”
“All of the cakes?” Evander and I both questioned, but she was already up and running from the room.
Evander looked at me and tried not to laugh. “How many cakes do you think she is speaking about?”
“I cannot guess. My mind is still trying to get used to you saying my dear,” I teased, rising to my feet.
He was embarrassed. “Yes, I am sometimes shocked too.”
“Well, though it gives me jitters to hear, I must say happiness does look good on you, big brother,” I replied and wished to tell him of my own.
“Thank you, little sister. However, now I fear you have cursed me.” His smile faded a bit. “I have been meaning to speak to you. Forgive me for my neglect.”
“I am fine,” I lied. I was a mess and plotting my own marriage right under his nose. “Were you not be seen by Th—Dr. Darrington? What of him?”
“I dismissed him. The man frets for nothing. He even forgot his pocket watch. I’ll have one of the footmen return it to him at the ball.” He walked over and put his hand on my head.
I frowned at the thought of Theodore being dismissed, but forced it down as I looked to him. “I am also not your daughter, nor am I a child. This does not work on me any longer.”
“Must you be so harsh?”
“Yes, I have been rather soft of late.” I grinned.
“Why?”
Theodore. Everything was because of Theodore. “What is it you wish to speak to me about?”
He frowned. “You clearly changed the subject.”
“I do not wish to speak to my brother about female issues. What is it you want to say?”
“You must be more careful when walking the grounds,” he said, a scowl now on his face. “Fitzwilliam has returned to town.”
“I know. Odite and I saw him in town. But what does he wish to accomplish by returning?”
“I fear I know, and as you are not a child, I shall tell you. He hopes that I will die and have no male heir, so that the estate would fall to Gabrien,” he reminded me. “If such a thing happens, you know our younger brother will have little power, at sixteen years of age, to stop his mother and Fitzwilliam. They shall once more take hold of Everely.”
