She’s trying to make it sound sordid. As if I somehow tricked my way into this marriage.
“Indeed. I’ve been very fortunate in my husband’s support for causes dear to my heart.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’re dear to your heart. After all, you must have such sympathy for children without proper families. Growing up as you did.”
The implication hung in the air like poison. That Sybil had somehow been neglected, abandoned, left to fend for herself like the orphans she’d cared for.
She’s trying to embarrass me. Trying to remind everyone of my family’s scandal.
Around them, conversation had grown quieter. Other committee members were pretending not to listen while hanging on every word.
“My childhood was quite secure, thank you,” Sybil replied evenly. “As was my sister’s until tragedy struck. Which is precisely why I understand the importance of providing stability for children who’ve lost that security through no fault of their own.”
“How noble. Though one does wonder about the wisdom of putting someone with such… personal investment in charge of managing funds. Emotion can cloud judgment after all.”
Personal investment. As if caring about children’s welfare were somehow disqualifying.
Lady Pemberton cleared her throat uncomfortably. “Perhaps we should return to the seating arrangements?—”
“Actually,” Sybil interrupted, her voice growing stronger, “I think Lady Hartwell raises an interesting point about emotion and judgment.”
She rose from her chair, drawing herself up to her full height. Around the room, conversations stopped entirely.
“You’re quite right that I have a personal investment in this cause. I’ve seen what happens to children who have nowhere else to turn. I’ve held crying girls who aged out of inadequate institutions with no prospects and no family to support them. I’ve watched intelligent, capable young women reduced to desperate measures because society offered them no alternatives.”
Her voice was growing stronger with each word, the power of her conviction lending authority to her tone.
“And yes, that experience gives me emotional investment. It also gives me practical knowledge that most people in this room lack. I know what these children actually need, not what sounds charitable in drawing room conversation.”
Lady Hartwell’s face had gone pink. “I hardly think?—”
“Furthermore,” Sybil continued, not allowing the interruption, “I am the Duchess of Vestiaire. My husband trusts my judgment completely as do the other members of this committee who voted unanimously to put me in charge of this project. If you find my qualifications insufficient, you’re welcome to withdraw your support and find other ways to occupy your time.”
There. Let her try to dismiss me now.
The room had gone dead silent. Lady Hartwell stared at her with obvious shock, clearly unused to being challenged so directly.
“Well,” the older woman said finally, her voice tight with suppressed fury, “I see marriage has given you quite the sense of your own importance.”
“Marriage has given me the resources and position to help people who need it. I intend to use both to their fullest extent.” Sybil’s smile was polite but steel-edged. “Now, unless you have constructive suggestions about the charity, I believe we’ve concluded our business here.”
Lady Hartwell gathered her reticule with sharp, angry movements. “Indeed, we have. Good day, ladies.”
She swept from the room with as much dignity as she could muster, leaving behind a stunned silence.
“Well,” Lady Pemberton said finally, “that was certainly… direct.”
“I apologize if I was too forceful,” Sybil said, suddenly uncertain. “But I won’t allow anyone to undermine this project or suggest I’m unfit to lead it.”
“Forceful?” Lady Worthington laughed, the sound bright and approving. “My dear, that was magnificent. Lady Hartwell has been terrorizing committee meetings for years. It’s about time someone put her in her place.”
“Really?”
“Really. You handled that with exactly the authority your position demands.” Lady Pemberton began gathering her papers with obvious satisfaction. “I suspect word of this will spread rather quickly through society. Which can only help our cause.”
Word will spread that the new Duchess of Vestiaire won’t be bullied or dismissed.
As Sybil made her way home in the carriage, she found herself replaying the confrontation with growing confidence. For the first time since her marriage, she’d truly felt like a duchess—not just Hugo’s wife but a woman with power and position in her own right.
