Adhering to her mother’s guidance, of practicing the perfect curtsy and the perfect smile in front of her mirror, were beginning to grate. Perhaps because of their recent encounter with Huntley? It had certainly brought out a side of her mother that Gabriella found she could not approve of. Because although she conceded that Huntley did not appear to be eligible for his title, the man did not deserve to be insulted because of it. And although she’d always known that her mother was somewhat high in the instep, she would never have supposed that she would treat another peer, let alone another person, with such complete and utter scorn. Least of all when she felt he deserved their sympathy rather than their censure.
“Well, I think it’s a marvelous idea,” Aunt Caroline had said.
“Of course you would,” Gabriella’s mother had muttered.
“And you have always placed great import on participating in charitable work.” Gabriella had given her mother a sweet smile. “Surely you would not have us turn our backs on someone in need when we are in a position to help?”
“Well . . . I . . .” Her mother had frowned. “I really don’t have the time, Gabriella. You know how busy I am raising money for the hospital and advocating on its behalf.”
“Of course. I wasn’t suggesting that you take on this task but rather that I do,” Gabriella had said. “And besides,” she’d added before her mother could voice a protest, “it will give me something different to do besides studying insects.”
That remark had apparently settled it, although her mother had still been concerned about Fielding’s opinion on the matter. Eventually she’d said, “I will have to ask your father for guidance in this matter.”
Which had resulted in another conversation filled with questions and explanations, at the end of which Gabriella’s father had said, “If what you say is true and the Duke of Huntley and his sisters are as unprepared for their new positions as you claim, then something must indeed be done to rectify the situation. But,” he’d added with a pointed look at Gabriella over the rims of his spectacles, “I am not convinced that your helping them as you suggest would be the right approach.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Gabriella’s mother had said.
Flattening his mouth, Gabriella’s father had given his wife a quelling look before adding, “Your sister brought disgrace upon this family, Gabriella. We cannot risk a single mistake. I’m sorry.”
“But—”
“The answer is no.”
And that had been the end of that, but it had not put a damper on Gabriella’s determination to help Lady Juliette and Lady Amelia. She simply could not bear the thought of them going through what she had once had to endure. A shudder went through her as she recalled how the other young ladies of her acquaintance had reacted when she was a child and they’d seen her pick up a spider. It had been during a party in celebration of the eighth birthday of Penbrook’s youngest daughter, Lady Charlotte. The children had been gathered in the parlor and Gabriella had spotted the tiny creature crawling on one of the roses in a nearby vase.
“That’s disgusting,” Lady Charlotte had squealed as Gabriella had stood with the spider crawling around her hand.
“You’re disgusting,” Lady Rowena had said while scrunching her nose.
“Only boys would touch an insect,” Lady Hyacinth had told her with mocking disdain.
Gabriella hadn’t spoken to any of those girls since, but she had been keenly aware of their critical gazes and hurtful snickers whenever their paths crossed over the years that followed.
Now, with the eventuality of Lady Juliette and Lady Amelia enduring a similar painful experience, Gabriella could not stand by and do nothing. Her moral compass simply wouldn’t allow it. Which meant that she would have to find a different way—one that meant thwarting her parents’ wishes.
A knock sounded at the door, pulling Gabriella away from her thoughts and back into the present. “Come in!”
One of the maids entered. “My lady, the Earl of Fielding has come to call on you. Shall I tell Simmons to show him into the parlor?”
With a sigh, Gabriella nodded. “Yes. Tell him that I will be down in just a moment.”
The maid departed with a bit of a bob, the door gently closing behind her.
Marry well.
The mantra that had been repeated in the Radcliffe household since she’d been a child reverberated in her head like a bell. It had become even more constant since her sister’s marriage. Gabriella winced. Victoria had summoned the courage to determine her own future—one apart from the ton. But at what cost? She’d left behind her family and all of her friends, travelling to the far side of the world for the sake of one man. It seemed incomprehensible.
Glancing down at the vanity table, Gabriella’s gaze fell on the mother-of-pearl comb that had been her sister’s. Victoria had pressed it into her hand one day, shortly before her departure, and said, “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you. Don’t ever doubt that.”
But if that was true, then why hadn’t she written?
Angered by her sister’s betrayal, Gabriella turned from the vanity table and headed for the door.
Arriving in the parlor a few minutes later, she had to admit that Fielding did look rather dashing in his navy blue jacket and beige trousers—certainly more fashionable than Huntley. She cast the thought aside and went to greet Fielding, not liking the fact that she’d just compared her almost-fiancé to another man.
“You look as lovely as always,” Fielding told her as he came to place a kiss upon her outstretched hand. It was elegantly done—much more so than Huntley’s awkward effort.
Stop it!
