“That really isn’t the point.”
“Besides, perhaps it will serve as a conversation starter?” Thalia laughed at the image. “I might have those handsome lords who dare approach me guess how old the dress is, and how many times I have altered it.”
“I think it’s adorable that you assume any lord is going to approach you once he sees you wearing that.”
Thalia scowled at her aunt. “You know there is a fine line between constructive criticism and just being mean. And you, dear aunt, are walking it dangerously.”
Her aunt sighed. “If I have said it once then I have said it one hundred times. All of this might have been avoided if you had just considered one—just one of the offers that came your way these past two years. I know there were a few.”
Thalia snorted. “As if such a thing as that was possible.”
“You would be married by now,” her aunt continued, pleading. “Your woes would be in the past. And you would not be forced to beg as you are now, throwing yourself at the mercy of lords in the vain hope that one of them takes a fancy to you.” Her nose curled as she eyed the dress again. “And need I say that any lord who takes a fancy to you in that dress is one not worth the begging.”
“I don’t plan on begging.”
“You’d better,” her aunt continued. “Funny that these past two years you were so insistent that such a thing was beneath you.”
“I did not spend the last two years avoiding those so-called offers because I did not wish to beg. I did it because none of the men who pursued me were suitable.”
“They were!”
“They were not,” Thalia said, her tone turned suddenly sharp because she was through having this conversation. “And besides…” She grimaced and looked away, a sense of shame taking her. “Even if they had been, you know as well as I do that not a one would have stuck around once he found out about Olivia.”
“Oh, Thalia…”
“It’s true,” Thalia sighed, letting the gown sag against her, the excitement that she had forced upon herself fading like the sun behind storm clouds. “You know that the moment I mentioned my daughter they would have turned and fled as if their buttocks were on fire.”
And the worst part… I wouldn’t have blamed them.
How had her life come to this?
Truly, Thalia had no idea. She had tried so hard to do the right thing—she had even done the right thing, and from that mindsetshe would not budge. But that was the problem with this world, that even when one’s intentions were pure and right, the worst still so often happened.
Was it enough that she told herself regardless of where she was and what she was faced with, that she wouldn’t change a thing? She supposed it had to be.
What made it all the harder still, or darn near impossible, was trying to convince others of this truth. Especially when she wasn’t able to tell themwhythings had turned out the way that they had. Lies made because it was the right thing to do, consequences suffered because Thalia was a better person than most believed. And if she was the only person who knew it… that was going to have to be good enough.
“Is Olivia sleeping?” Thalia asked her aunt.
“She is,” her aunt said softly, concern now etched across her face. “And you need not worry about her tonight. I will make sure no harm comes to her.”
“Thank you…” She smiled and reached for her aunt’s hand. “You know how much this means to me. Everything you have done…”
“I know it, dear. I just pray it’s not for nothing.”
Thalia owed her aunt everything. It was just a month ago that she appeared suddenly on her doorstep, begging for a place to stay. It was four years before that when they had last seenone another, and her aunt, despite her objections and many questions, had generously offered to look after her the best she could.
But it wasn’t enough. A temporary measure that could not last. And they both knew it. Which was why Thalia had since committed to her new plan, one which would begin in a few short hours. One which she hoped would save her and her daughter from damnation.
“You know what you need to do tonight.” Her aunt straightened herself and then took the gown, holding it to Thalia’s body as if it was a stunning work of art fit for a queen.
“I do.”
“I am serious, Thalia,” she pressed on her. “I know that you hate to beg. And I know you wish that you did not need to. But your situation…” She clicked her tongue with worry.
“I am aware of my situation.”
“Are you? You have no money. Nowhere to live. No prospects. No future, if tonight does not work as you need it to.”
