And then there were the suitors.
They lined up every day outside Willow Street—gentlemen, officers, and lords—with trinkets, bouquets, and a startling amount of very bad poetry.
They swarmed around the sisters wherever they went. Promenading in the park was no longer a congenial exercise. It was a parade with Gwendolyn surrounded by one group of titled and noble gentlemen and Elise by another.
Dara followed with whoever was left. Surprisingly, she did have her suitors. No one who sparked her interest, but decent men, a few with titles.
She kept it all in perspective. Her sisters always included her, and her goal had never been about herself. No, she was honoring her promise to her Gram, to not let any of them be shuttled off and devalued. They were gentlewomen, and they deserved the favors of their class.
Gwendolyn solved their problem of having too few dresses. In the beginning, the sisters tried to change the look of their muslin gowns with ribbon and lace. However, they soon discovered they couldn’t run this way and that for social obligationsandply their needles. They also couldn’t afford dressmakers or even another maid. Gwendolyn finally pointed out that she saw nothing wrong with a simple white dress, especially for unmarried women. “Furthermore, look at where we live. Willow Street. There is no hiding that we don’t have great fortunes. So why are we trying to pretend?”
Her words made sense. Besides, Dara and Elise would rather read than pick out threads and resew frills.
For the next affair, a musicale at Lady Ponsby’s, the sisters wore their white dresses without any embellishment. There were some less than kind comments, especially from Lady Byrne about how “frugal” they appeared.
However, the next day, the papers praised the Lanscarr sisters’graceful and demure silhouettes. Their gowns became a mark of their style, and were quickly copied by other debutantes, including Helen and Sophie Byrne.
Yes, all was very good andexactlyas Dara had hoped, except for one thorn in her plans—Michael Brogan.
He took pleasure in annoying Dara every chance he could. Worse, he charmed Elise into being his willing accomplice.
Dara’s next confrontation with him happened when she and Gwendolyn had gone on errands only to return and find Elise entertaining Mr. Brogan in the sitting room.
The two sat so close on one of the settees that their knees were touching. He held a hank of wool hooked around his hands that Elise was happily winding into a ball. Tweedie, their chaperone, sat on the other settee, her chin lowered to her chest as if she was dozing in spite of Elise’s happy giggles and the couple’s whispers.
Only that morning, Dara had made a rule, which her sisters had agreed to honor, that male visitors would only be allowed to call betweenthree and five o’clock. “We must pace ourselves. Be decorous,” Dara had said.
It was hours before three. And did “decorous” include giggles and whispers? Especially after Dara had instructed Mr. Brogan to leave Elise alone?
Elise looked more than pleased to entertain him. There was a rosy bloom in her cheeks, a sparkle of pleasure in her eyes. She had rarely appeared more radiant.
Andthatwas the crux of the matter—Elise could claim the heart of any man in the world... and Dara feared that she had chosen Michael Brogan.
The sight of the couple together on the settee squeezed Dara’s heart into a hundred pieces. And she hated herself for it. Elise and she were the closest of the sisters. They shared the same mother. In spite of their being little more than a year apart, Dara had guarded and protected Elise from when they were both toddlers. They slept in the same room.
But the truth was, Michael Brogan could drive a wedge between them. Sisters should not be attracted to the same man. One of them would lose, and it would probably be Dara.
Surprising how much the realization hurt. She was also tired of having to be the bigger person all... the... time.
The couple was so busy with their wool andtheir flirting, they didn’t register Dara and Gwendolyn’s presence immediately. Mr. Brogan’s back was to them, so it was Elise who finally glanced up and then made a small surprised sound. There was no guilt or shame in her face. She was rather pleased with herself.
Mr. Brogan turned in his seat and then rose, the wool still around his hands. He made a gentlemanly bow. “Miss Lanscarr, Miss Dara, I’m pleased I have the chance to see you.” He spoke to both of them, but his gaze went directly to Dara—and was it her imagination, or did she see a glint of laughing triumph in the depths of his gray eyes?
Was he mocking her? And using her sister to do it?
The last shreds of infatuation died. In its place was fury and a grim determination to teach him respect.
“Why, it is always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Brogan,” Gwendolyn was saying as she removed her bonnet and handed it to Molly to take upstairs with their packages. “Have you been here long?” Dara removed her own bonnet and gloves.
“Not very long,” Elise said quickly. “Hardly any time at all.” Dara knew Elise made the claim for her benefit. Considering the size of the ball of yarn Elise held, Mr. Brogan had been here for well over fifteen minutes.
At that moment, Tweedie came awake with a snort. Her eyes were wide, and she blinked like an owl until she focused on Gwendolyn and Dara. “Oh, dear, did I nod off? Last night was very late for me.”
Gwendolyn offered kind words. Dara gave her a reassuring smile she did not feel. Tweedie must be a better chaperone than this.
And then inspiration hit. She’d show her how a good chaperone should behave.
Dara walked over to the settee where Mr. Brogan still stood. “It was late for all of us, Aunt,” she replied as she lifted the wool off his hands, dumped the mess of it into Elise’s lap, and then sat down on the settee beside her sister. She even wiggled to take up as much room as possible on the narrow piece of furniture.
