"And you've been walking like there's a string pulling you up from the sky," Joyce added, mimicking Daphne's posture in anexaggerated fashion, making Annie burst out laughing again. "Honestly, you're starting to make me feel self-conscious!"
Daphne rolled her eyes but couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, alright, fine! I've been working on... improving my posture."
"Your posture?" Annie said, gasping between giggles. "For what? Are you going to compete in some sort of standing contest?"
Daphne crossed her arms and attempted to look indignant, but she knew she was failing miserably. "I just thought it was time I behaved a little more... properly, that's all."
Joyce leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Proper? Since when have you cared about being proper? You've always done whatever you pleased, and now suddenly you're... what, trying to impress someone?"
"I'm not trying to impress anyone," Daphne lied, though she couldn't stop her fingers from fiddling with the napkin in her lap. "I just... thought it might be nice to try something different."
Annie leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Does this have anything to do with a certain Duke we keep hearing about?"
Daphne's eyes widened. "What? No! Absolutely not!"
Joyce and Annie exchanged knowing looks, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh, it absolutely does," Joyce said with a wink. "You're trying to impress the Duke, aren't you? Admit it!"
Daphne threw her hands up in exasperation. "I am not! Why would I want to impress that... that infuriating man?"
The Duke was someone who was well known. Many women wanted the chance to be married to someone like him. Of course, it was not something that Daphne had ever cared about. But her sisters wasted no moment to tease her.
Annie giggled. "I don't know, Daphne. You tell us. Is it the brooding scowl? The way he constantly glares at everyone like they've just insulted his horse?"
"Or maybe it's the way he says your name," Joyce added dramatically, placing her hand over her heart. "‘Lady Daphne...'" she imitated in a deep, exaggerated voice, sending Annie into another fit of laughter.
Daphne groaned, her face flushed with both embarrassment and amusement. "You two are impossible."
"We're not the ones trying to be duchess material all of a sudden," Joyce teased, nudging Annie. "Come on, Daphne, just admit it. You're acting all proper and ‘refined' because you want to prove something to the Duke."
Daphne hesitated, her smile fading just a bit. Her sisters, as ridiculous as they were being, had hit closer to the truth than she'd expected.
"You are being ridiculous, both of you," Daphne got up from the table, "And I have no time to entertain it. Now, if you can excuse me, Isadora shall be coming over any minute now. I have preparations to make...."
Daphne could not get away from her sisters fast enough. She knew that the longer she remained in their company, the more questions they would hurl in her direction.
For now, she was not interested in answering any of them. Soon enough, Isadora visited to continue their lessons.
"Good morning," she greeted, grinning at her friend from the door. "Are you prepared for this morning?"
Daphne sighed, already exhausted when thinking about the day before her. "I am as ready as I will ever be..."
"That is good enough for me," Isadora grinned.
As they started, Isadora was relentless in her instruction, offering no sympathy when Daphne faltered.
"Again," Isadora said sharply, standing with her arms crossed as Daphne tried once more to navigate the parlor with grace. "Your steps are too heavy. A lady glides, Daphne. She doesn't stomp."
"I'm not stomping," Daphne muttered, barely containing her frustration. "This is just how I walk."
"Well, it's not good enough," Isadora replied, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Do it again."
Daphne bit her lip and tried to follow the instructions. Shoulders back, chin up, light steps. She could hear Isadora's voice in her head with every movement, each word a reminder of what she wasn't doing correctly. It was maddening.
After what felt like an eternity, Isadora finally nodded. "Better. Now, let's work on your curtsy."
Daphne groaned inwardly. She hadn't realized there were so many intricacies to something as simple as curtsying. But, as Isadora had pointed out multiple times, everything about a Lady was deliberate—every movement, every word, every glance. There was no room for error.
