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“Oh, Mama,” said Myrtle. “Next week, we are having a dinner party. I’ve invited the Smythes and Lord Brookshire. His sister shall be in town then, so I invited her as well. She has been spending a great deal of time in Bath. I hope she is in good health. Of course, you are all invited. We can arrange to have Violetta meet—”

Mama cut into Myrtle’s statement. “And Orris. They may as well meet Gladys too. I cannot imagine her father will retrieve her, nor trust her to travel alone this season. I have sent word to him of our dilemma. I should hear from him as soon as the boat docks, and it would do well if she had a new marriage contract. Perhaps it will save him from caring much about the hurt feelings of his business colleague.”

“Or he could pass on to glory,” Gladys cut in.

Orris barked out a laugh, earning the cool glare of her mother.

“One mustn’t pray for another’s demise, Gladys. You were raised better. Now, Myrtle, Samuel, let us speak on dinner arrangements. Violetta and Gladys, prepare to take our leave. And Orris, you would do well to behave whilst we are gone.”

“Yes, Mama,” she said, blending in with Gladys’s and Vi’s acquiescence of the directions.

Mama did not look back. She held firmly to Myrtle’s arm, speaking quickly about guest lists and seating arrangements. Samuel was smart enough to trail them a few paces.

“You won’t come?” Gladys asked, placing a hand on Orris’s arm.

She knew herself to be a favorite among the cousins, but the underlying reason of the event was to secure suitors. Orris had yet to see any of interest. It was quite futile. “I promise I will go along on tomorrow’s adventure. It will be the same people there, I am sure. The Earth could very well cease having air to breathe before there was a new member of society among us.” She laughed, patting Gladys’s hand.

“Come along, Gladys. Orris holds herself apart. She would rather wed a cowboy, isn’t that right, Orris?” Violetta pulled Gladys away by the other arm. “I want to go out before the sun grows too intense.”

She was right. There was somewhat a drought, and without the cloud cover, the days had been somewhat warmer. Though Orris suspected her sister was still a bit angry over Gladys’s secret return, which meant more competition for limited suitors. She knew a discussion was warranted, but Orris had been preoccupied with her own troubles.

With a sigh, she headed for her own bedchambers, where Fields helped her into her favorite riding attire, more befitting for her ride later in the day. She would have loved to be free of her corset, as she could have done in Texas when not entertaining. There, she would have been able to resign herself to bed, to know who planned a visit, and to dance with a young man who did not have to gain approval from a queen.

She had to stop lamenting. Positively no good would come of it.

The fresh air might help regain her senses. Though she did not want to be objectified by the passing gentlemen in the pleasure gardens, she could go to their own gardens.

She moved through the ballroom, stopping along the way to admire the work Mr. Fain had done thus far. He had begun on the side with Myrtle and Samuel, completed a rough outline of everyone else. Yet… for her, there was only the dress. Had he not wanted to at least start on her face?

A spike of concern rippled through her chest. Was hers an undeserving face?

Shaking her head, she pushed aside such frivolity. She was not going to give another man over her sensibilities.

Lifting her dress, she stepped over the cups and brushes, handles covered in paint smudges. The door remained open, so Orris was able to leave unencumbered.

Through the door she went, her boots tapping rhythmically onto the marble stairs. Her mother had an affinity for stone architecture, it seemed. She found her way to the bench at the mouth of a great maze. It was not as large as their country home, yet it remained impressive.

Taking a seat, she turned so she might see the ornate fountain in the center of the yard. From it, a mermaid sat perched on a rock in the center of the sea, blue water trickling in an infinite circle, from the clamshell in her hands to the glimmering pool and back again.

She empathized with the mermaid. She too was stuck in her place, unable to swim in the ocean and far from home.

“An inspired work, is she not?”

The voice gave Orris a start. She’d thought of herself alone in the garden. She was on her feet and turning around, she found his handsome face. “Mr. Fain,” she said, her hand clasped at her neck. “You gave me such a start.”

“I am deeply apologetic. It was never my intent to frighten you. I thought you would have heard me upon approach. Again, forgive me.”

“It is quite all right, sir,” she said. “I am glad to see you are enjoying our accommodations. This”—she waved to the fountain—“is one of my favorites of all my mother’s extreme indulgences. She’s leaned toward the ornate since before we were born. My father even had a golden bull erected in her honor on his ranch.” She could not stop the smile, her cheeks tight with the mirth that accompanied fond memories of her papa.

“Ah, he must have been a truly great man. To cherish his wife. Such men are in too short supply.” He took a step forward, his eyes on Orris. Then two backward, farther away from her.

Orris started once to draw closer to him, then recalled. He was not in her class. He could not be a close friend. He could never be anything more than someone summoned to paint her family’s portraits. “He was, indeed,” she said, opting to return to her place on the bench.

“You are privileged to have such an adoring family.”

“You said I’m blessed. I say they are a bit suffocating,” she said. She would not allow anyone to think ill of her family, so she offered a gentle smile.

“I fear you have not seen enough families suffering from the opposite condition. I pray you never know such pain.” Mr. Fain’s eyes took on a faraway expression for a moment before returning to her. She could almost tell when the switch from some distant place back to present time occurred.