How does he always know what effect he has on me?
“Speaking of practical matters,” Hugo said, his voice carefully neutral as he turned his attention to his daughter, “you’ve received several invitations that require our attention.”
“Invitations?” Rosalie’s eyes lit up with excitement. “From London?”
“Indeed. Three balls, two garden parties, and what appears to be a musical evening at the Worthington estate.” Hugo consulted a small stack of correspondence beside his plate. “Your debut is generating considerable interest.”
“How wonderful!” Rosalie clasped her hands together with delight. “Oh, Papa, this is everything I hoped for. London society, grand ballrooms, elegant gowns…”
Such innocent enthusiasm. If only she knew what awaits her.
“I can hardly wait to experience a proper London ball,” Rosalie continued, her voice bubbling with anticipation. “The dancing, the music, the opportunity to meet so many interesting people. I’ve heard that Lady Pemberton’s events are particularly lavish.”
“Lady Pemberton does know how to throw a memorable party,” Hugo agreed carefully.
“And I’m especially eager to attend a masquerade,” Rosalie added with sparkling eyes. “There’s something so deliciously mysterious about dancing with someone whose identity you don’t know. So romantic!”
Sybil felt Hugo tense beside her though his expression remained composed.
“Masquerades can be… unpredictable,” he said mildly. “Perhaps we should focus on more traditional entertainments for your first season.”
“Oh, but Papa,” Rosalie protested, “surely there’s no harm in a little mystery? Besides, I’ve heard that one can’t truly be considered a success in London society unless they are mentioned in the scandal sheets!”
Oh, dear. This is not going to end well.
Sybil watched Hugo’s jaw tighten almost imperceptibly, waiting for the sharp rebuke she was certain would follow. Instead, he simply continued buttering his toast with methodical precision.
“Is that so?” he asked with deceptive calm.
“Absolutely,” Rosalie declared, oblivious to the danger. “I once heard Lady Worthington say that a small scandal can actually enhance one’s reputation, provided it’s the right sort of scandal. Nothing truly improper, of course, but perhaps being caught in a private conversation with an eligible gentleman or dancing one too many sets with the same partner…”
The right sort of scandal. As if there were such a thing.
“I see,” Hugo said, his voice remaining perfectly level. “And you believe that courting scandal would benefit your social standing?”
“Well, within reason,” Rosalie said though something in her father’s tone was finally registering as she spoke. “That is, I wouldn’t want to do anything truly shocking. But surely a little excitement, a little mystery…”
“Pursuing scandal,” Hugo said with quiet authority, “will only earn you a reputation. One that will follow not only you but both your younger sisters as well.”
Rosalie’s enthusiasm dimmed slightly as the implications sank in. “I… I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You should have.” Hugo’s gaze held hers steadily. “Because every choice you make this Season will reflect on your family. Every whisper, every raised eyebrow, every mention in thosescandal sheets you find so appealing will become part of your sisters’ legacy as well as your own.”
“I was only joking, Papa,” Rosalie said quickly though her voice had lost its earlier certainty. “I don’t actually want to cause a scandal. I simply meant… that is, I thought perhaps…”
“You thought that reputation was something you could gamble with and still emerge unscathed,” Hugo said, not unkindly. “Many young ladies make that mistake. Most live to regret it.”
Most. But not all. Some don’t live long enough to even do that.
The memory of Emmie’s fate hung unspoken in the air, a reminder of just how completely scandal could destroy a young woman’s life.
“I understand, Papa,” Rosalie said quietly. “I’ll be more careful with my words. And my wishes.”
Hugo studied his daughter’s face for a moment then his expression softened almost imperceptibly. “Good. Now, shall we discuss which invitations to accept?”
That’s it? No shouting, no forbidding her to go out at all, no dramatic proclamations about the evils of society?
Sybil found herself staring at Hugo with something approaching amazement. This was not the same man who had silenced Leah with a single look and ordered the immediate destruction of hercreature collection. This was someone calmer, more measured in his responses.
