“Admit it. You can’t wait to attend next year.”
I stomped the grass beneath me. “I’d rather kiss a toad!”
“Perhaps it’ll turn into Prince Charming,” Genevieve said in a singsong voice.
“Gen!”
Before Genevieve could tease me further, Julianna approached with Cedric Sternfeld at her arm. I prayed she hadn’t overheard our conversation. The last thing I needed was another rumor about me, this time kissing toads.
I savagely took a bite of my raspberry tart. Our cook, Theodora, always baked the most heavenly pastries, but Julianna’s presence soured the taste. She looked infuriatingly pretty in a lilac sundress and her chestnut hair twisted back.
“If it isn’t Amarante and Genevieve,” Julianna said in a faux-cheery voice. “Why haven’t you joined the rest of us in welcoming our new neighbor?”
I tried not to scowl as Genevieve and I stood and curtsied to Mr. Sternfeld.
“Apologies, Mr. Sternfeld. Amarante and I merely wandered off,” my stepsister said. “I hope you won’t take offense.”
Mr. Sternfeld bowed. “Not at all. You’re Madam Lydia’s daughters?”
He had a friendly baritone voice and a kind gaze which lingered on Genevieve a beat longer than customary. So hewasimpressed by pretty faces. Hopefully he had enough sense to choose the right one.
“Indeed. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sternfeld,” Genevieve said.
“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Genevieve,” he said with an easy laugh. “I cannot thank your mother enough for such a warm reception upon moving in. Your backyard is lovely.”
“Our gardener does a fantastic job with the roses,” Genevieve said with a demure smile. A hint of pink stained her cheeks.
Julianna’s grip on Mr. Sternfeld’s arm tightened. “Didn’t you fall into the rose bushes one year, Amarante?” she said. “Madam Lydia almost had that gardener Rhonda fired.”
“Her name is Rowena,” I said stiffly. “And it wasn’t her fault I fell.”
“The thorns scratched your face horribly.” Julianna looked up at Mr. Sternfeld with a pout. “Scratches are awfully unattractive on a woman’s face, aren’t they, Mr. Sternfeld?”
He had the decency to look uncomfortable. “Not at all, Miss Julianna. I find them to be great conversation starters.”
I fought the urge to laugh at Julianna’s reddening face.
Mr. Sternfeld flicked his gaze about, as if searching for another topic. Genevieve’s sketchbook caught his attention.
“You draw, Miss Genevieve?” he said brightly, picking it up from the grass. She had nearly finished the sketch. It depicted the lawn and several figures, one of them Mr. Sternfeld himself.
“A little,” my stepsister said.
“A lot,” I corrected. “She’s been drawing for ages.”
Genevieve elbowed me in the ribs.
“Masterful!” Mr. Sternfeld exclaimed. “Tell me, how did you render these forms with so few strokes?”
“Well, I used the broad side of the charcoal to block out the shadows—”
“I doubt Mr. Sternfeld wants to hear about your amateur techniques, Genevieve,” Julianna said. She snatched the sketchbook and tossed it over her shoulder. “My mother hired a famous Aquatian artist to paint my portrait. Nowhiswork is truly masterful. I would love to show you, Mr. Sternfeld.”
Mr. Sternfeld cleared his throat. “Thank you, Miss Alderidge, but I’m afraid I’ll be busy.”
“Why is that? Will you be attending the Season?” Julianna said eagerly.
“I won’t. But my sister Olivia will,” he said. “I’m chaperoning her.”
