Kadida tilted her head, her braided hair brushing her shoulder. “Do we need to learn conduct, Lady Stanford? Or do you need reminding?”
Heat rose up Rose’s neck. She stared at the girl, Rose’s lips pressed into a line so tightly they ached. Slowly, she closed the book. “Perhaps,” she said coolly, “I do. Today I was…disappointed. That’s all.”
“By the merchant?” That was Miss Sharifi, whose pale brown eyes missed nothing.
Rose inhaled, sharp and silent. “Men often disappoint. Perhaps that should be the lesson.”
The girls gave her a collective look, the one shared among women who knew—whoreallyknew—what it meant to expect little and receive even less. It was a sentiment in which she certainly could relate.
Rose blew out a pursed breath. She picked up the next book:A Lady’s Guide to Decorum. “Very well. Let’s talk about tea. And choices. And when it is appropriate to ignore both.” She opened to a bookmarked page and read aloud, voice firm but inwardly hollow, “‘A lady does not betray emotion, no matter how distressed she may be. Her composure is her crown.’”
Stunned silence met her at this pronouncement.
“Utter rot,” muttered Gilly.
A laugh escaped Rose before she could catch it. It felt ragged. A tear might have threatened, but she blinked it back. She shut that book with a snap. “Just so,” she agreed. “And yet…” She stared at the front of the leather tooling cover. “Sometimes,” she said softly, “it’s all we have.” Her throat closed briefly, but she refused to pause. “Let’s pick three books each. One for pleasure. One for improvement. And one…for…for defiance.”
Miss Sharifi’s brows furrowed, her eyes glowing with intelligence. “Defiance?”
“Yes,” Rose said, meeting each of their gazes. “I highly recommend it.” She couldn’t believe what she was saying. Rose had never been defiant in her life at least before one irritating merchant had entered her world.
The women rose to pore over the books like young girls in a sweetshop—all except Inez, who stood apart from the others.
Rose moved forward. “Inez, Miss Macy?”
“I-I don’t belong here, ma’am. And if Billy gets wind of where I landed, I fear it will put everyone in danger,” she whispered.
“Nonsense. I shall personally see to your safety,” Rose said fiercely, her mask slipping. Purpose and a sense of ardent daring soared through her. She’d helped Inez, and it felt good.
“I can’t read.”
“Then you shall learn.” Rose spoke with complete conviction.
Inez was shaking her head, but Rose reached for her hand.
“It is possible, my dear.”
“Children learn to read all the time, Miss Macy.” Lena Sharifi had slipped beside Rose. “I’ll help you,” she told Inez. “I happen to read very well. I even helped children in my home country.” She looked at Rose, raising her chin in a show of rebellion. “My father was a doctor.”
“A doctor?” Rose echoed. Gratitude rushed Rose’s blood and, again, had tears constricting her throat and blurring her vision. “Do you practice as well, Miss Sharifi?”
Her shoulders relaxed somewhat. “Not officially,” she relented.
“But unofficially?” Rose asked, casting a quick glance toward Kadida’s swollen stomach. She flicked her gaze to Miss Sharifi again and was pleased by what she saw.
“Yes, unofficially.” She spoke so softly, Rose wondered if she was meant to hear the words.
“That is good to know,” Rose murmured. “Very good.”
“Come, Miss Macy.” Miss Sharifi looped her arm through Inez’s. “We must see Vella. She is to create gowns of silk for us. You would look lovely in the royal blue I spotted.”
With avid attention lighting her face, Kadida’s hand moved over her belly, listening to Miss Mabel Clark speaking softly. If memory served, Miss Clark hailed from the theater. She’d openedGulliver’s Travelsand was reading the main character’s accounting of his own life.
Books. Rose would be bringing more books.
Tomorrow, she vowed as she watched Kadida accept the book from Miss Clark and tuck it under her arm. The others filed out talking excitedly about the gowns Vella and Gilly were planning to create.
Hope soared through Rose.
