“Oh, sir,” Hannah began, raising her hand.
Hope lit his features, but he took one step too many and collided with the thick wooden door.
Hannah smothered her face with her gloved hand, but the next moment was unavoidable. A laugh burst forth, no matter what she did to try and stop it.
“Hannah,” her mother hissed beside her. She quickly looked about, then dragged Hannah to the nearest shop, pulling her inside. “Goodness, girl.” She shook her head, smoothing her hand across her brow. In doing so, she successfully brushed aside a curled strand of auburn hair. While similar in color to Hannah’s, her mother’s hair was much more brown, and did not seem to have the startling effect that Hannah’s did.
“This is our first appearance in town,” her mother continued, “and you are already showing your true colors. Can you please, for my sake and your father’s, do your best to keep them hidden for atleastthe next six months?”
Hannah bit her lip, chest deflating as her laughter ceased with her mother’s sharp reprimand. “I’m sorry, Mother. But you did not find that funny in the least? I do feel sorry for the man—”
“A perfectly polite,handsome, young man at that,” she said, shaking her head. Her blue eyes practically bulged with her words.
“You have no way of knowing if that young man is polite.” Hannah removed one of her gloves, fingering a bit of the deep-blue velvet ribbon on the shelf of the haberdashery. They might as well be productive while they were here.
Her mother bristled beside her, then bent her long, trim frame to look at a table full of gloves. “He smiled,” she said, her words distracted by her task. “That is more than I can say of your manners.”
“At least I have a sense of humor.” Which was more than Hannah could say of any number of wealthy people. They tended to be a rather stiff lot.
Mrs. Gibbons pinched her lips, surely attempting to keep her frustration in check. “Someone else’s pain or embarrassment is not something one should find humorous.”
Hannah’s mind wandered to last night—the young man pouring out his heart and soul in a profession of love and offer of marriage, only to be rejected with little to no remorse on the lady’s part. The would-be lovebirds had not seen her on the opposite side of the balcony, which had suited Hannah just fine as she had been doing her best to go unnoticed. But then the entire situation had taken a rather strange and uncomfortable turn.
“I do not always find such things humorous.” She turned and strode to the counter to ask the young worker if she could purchase some of the ribbon.
As Hannah and the shop girl returned, Hannah avoided her mother’s piercing eyes. She could feel the heated gaze searing the skin on the side of her face. The young girl quickly snipped off a yard of ribbon and handed it to her.
“Hannah,” her mother said, her voice low. “I do not need to remind you why we are in Warthford in the first place, do I?”
She swallowed, running her fingers over the ribbon to avoid her mother’s accusing eyes. “No. I am perfectly aware.”
“Good.” She took a deep breath, then forced a worn smile onto her face. “Then I suggest you please try.”
Hannah gritted her teeth, spinning on her heel to pay for her merchandise.
Please try.
Hannah ground to a halt, pressing her eyes closed for a moment before turning back and calling a smile to her lips. “Is there anything you wish to purchase, Mother?”
See? She could try. She could be the polite, dutiful daughter. And oftentimes she was. It was only in those moments when Hannah’s mind seemed to take over her actions that she failed. And it was often too late before she even realized what was happening. Like the previous evening, when she had driven herself into that young man.
“No. Thank you, but I do not need anything.” Mrs. Gibbons patted her hair, not meeting Hannah’s eyes.
Hannah’s heart sank. Her mother was clearly frazzled today, and Hannah’s rude laughter had not helped. They were in Warthford for a task, and if Hannah failed, then they would have to move. Again.
They left the shop, the midafternoon sun welcoming them with warmth. Hannah turned her face toward it like a sunflower searching for sustenance, making her bonnet practically useless in its task.
“Now, we shall have at least five new dresses commissioned.” Her mother looked at Hannah, quietlytskingher until Hannah dropped her chin and kept her face under the shade of her bonnet. When sure that Hannah’s light complexion was protected, she proceeded. “Hopefully we will receive invitations soon once they see how lovely you are and understand that your father is a wealthy gentleman.”
Hannah had heard her mother’s monologue daily since they arrived one week ago. They had not even unpacked their last trunk and already her mother was dragging her into the small town to be admired and asked after.
“Especially after the Lindfields' ball last night. I had several mother’s approach me who wished to meet you. Before you disappeared, that is.” She gave Hannah a critical eye.
“I told you,” Hannah said, gripping her reticule tighter, “I was warm.”Warm from embarrassment, she neglected to add.
Her parents were not what one would call subtle, and Hannah wilted under their praise in public. Especially since they did not offer it as freely at home, behind closed doors. She felt rather like an animal being auctioned off.Look at her silky red coat. Isn’t it breathtaking? And what of her figure? Yes, very good for rearing children, I agree.
Of course, the comments were not so outspoken or crude as all that, but Hannah read between the veiled flatteries. And instead of opening her mouth and sticking her foot into it, she had chosen to retreat to the quiet safety of the balcony. Rather thoughtful of herself, really, for then she couldn’t cause embarrassment to her parents.
