Sighing, Verity resisted the urge to rub her brow while she turned the other way to Elowen. “I suppose it is just the two of us now.”
“What would you like to do?”
“I am not here for myself, but for you. You should be making friends and dancing,” Verity reminded her sternly before wrinkling her nose at her own tone. “That is, I want you to enjoy yourself. It’s not about me.”
Her younger sister offered a sheepish smile. “I don’t mind.”
“But I do. Why don’t you… go try some punch?”
“It will be watery.” Then the girl paused and said suddenly, “Yes, I suppose that I should. Will you be here when I return?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where should I find you then?”
Verity huffed in irritation. “I don’t know!”
The surprised and hurtful look on Elowen’s face was the first sign she’d done something wrong. Although older than Octavia, Elowen had never really attempted to enjoy her Season very much and seemed determined to be a wallflower. There was always some sort of distance she put between herself and the rest of the siblings, and Verity could never sort it out.
But I still know when I’ve done something wrong.
“I’m sorry,” Verity murmured with a sigh. “My head is bothering me more than I might have anticipated. Perhaps I shall go sit down. Find me in the matron’s corner, will you?”
She left before Elowen could say anything more, knowing conversation would not be fruitful. Feeling out of sorts, Verity sat in the corner before realizing she needed to still be paying attention. So she moved to the front row in a corner where she could watch the dancing and the various conversations playing around the large room.
“Well, there weren’t any names mentioned in theLondon Grey Truth,but I would bet you a shilling or two it’s the Qintby family.”
They were talking about her journal!
Straightening her spine, she turned slightly to the three older ladies sitting further down her row. Curiosity sat heavy in her gut. A few of their faces looked vaguely familiar. She sorted out their names while she listened.
“It’s nothing but a gossip rag,” the one with white hair muttered severely. “I cannot believe anyone would dare to point fingers.”
“But there were no names,” insisted the first.
“I can’t imagine it being the Qintby family. Why, they stand to loose too much should they participate in anything corrupt. There would be too many ladies left should the men go to debtors’ prison.”
The second perked. “Debtor’s prison?”
“This is why you should be reading it! You missed it all just a few weeks ago. You see…”
Verity couldn’t hear anything as someone plopped down noisily into the chair beside her. It was Octavia, limbs flailing and the chair scratching noisily on the ground; her hand caught on Verity’s glove and she felt something sticky there.
“Fancy meeting you here,” her sister said with a cheeky smile.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, I say, dearest sister, I was planning to enjoy a moment of respite with you. And to pull Elowen into the next dance. I found her a partner. But what the devil is wrong with you? You haven’t used that tone since I sneezed on the royal retinue at my first ball.”
Verity slunk lower in her seat. She couldn’t focus, she couldn’t hear, and she couldn’t take care of her sisters. Not like this.
She bowed her head and rubbed it at last, closing her eyes. All she needed was some peace and quiet. There was a storm whirling through her that she couldn’t focus on. “I’m fine. I’m simply… Tired.”
The chair on her other side shifted as her other sister took a seat and offered a lukewarm glass of lemonade. “It’s not very good, I’m afraid. It’s already being watered down. Perhaps they expect it to be crowded this evening?”
A crash sounded. Laughter and shouts followed. Intermingled in it was a familiar voice that had Verity pursing her lips. “Or,” she muttered as she stood, “They expect it to end early.”
“Do you think they would?” Octavia added with interest.
