“Of course,” Hope assured them, walking with them toward the door.
A footman returned wraps and coats to each in turn. Hope waved the guests into their carriages from the steps. The front door closed. She breathed out a sigh of relief.
Verity could stand it no longer. “If that is what Munro has to offer, I want none of it,” she declared firmly. “You and Mother can think of me what you will, but there is no universe in which the Penroses or Sangfords and I could ever form an alliance.”
“Well, that is good to know,” Hope answered pleasantly. “You would have greatly fallen in my esteem if it were otherwise.”
Verity stared at her sister. “I don’t understand. If they are not suitable companions, why did you introduce us?”
“You were so very reticent about what Munro has to offer,” Hope explained. “I thought it best to show you the worst at your earliest introduction. Then all that followed would be less daunting. Even enjoyable, given half a chance. Our fair city has its share of disagreeable, gossiping, uncharitable persons. But there are also families worthy of your acquaintance. You will meet several such individuals at the Macraes’ ball. And now that you have survived the worst of us, you can relax and enjoy the best of us.”
Verity folded her arms. “I suppose you think you are very clever to manipulate circumstances thus.”
“Oh, yes, indeed!” Hope grinned. Then she slipped her arm into Verity’s. “Come on, let’s put you back into one of your old dresses. This one’s color does nothing for you. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
At the thought of the imminent release from the loathsome gown, Verity was instantly cheered and willing to forgive Hope just about anything. She no longer feared an enforced friendship with the girlish Miss Penrose, nor did she dread further probing questions by Miss Sangford. She did, however, still have a letter to write to Mr. Cole’s sister. Once the butterfly hadbeen returned to him and an explanation offered, all that was immediately problematic in her life would be dealt with.
Perhaps, after all, Munro was the fresh start her mother had hoped it would be. For the first time, Verity felt a rush of optimism toward the future. Really, she should give it a fair chance. In fact, she pondered, as she slipped the familiar soft muslin over her hips once more, she had already survived the worst. Hope was right. Better things awaited her.
Such pleasant anticipation did not fit as comfortably as her well-worn dress, but she was willing to let it linger. After all, what did she have to lose? If the Sangfords and Penroses of the world could be so easily discarded, she was free to risk without danger. And that was something she might just be brave enough to do.
