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Obviously, there would be no such kindness, even for the briefest of moments. “Yes, I am well. Thank you.”

Violetta let out a snort.

“Please, Vi. Those noises are most unladylike,” Mama said, offering a wave of dismissal to Dorchester and the two other footmen.

Orris had not learned their names. One of them was Boris—she thought, at least. Part of her was afraid to get to know them, lest they be carted off to parts unknown.

“I apologize, Mama. I fear I am overwhelmed,” Violetta said, tossing a sneer in Orris’s direction. “With all the happenings, I became excitable. Forgive me, Sister.”

“Of course. I know how much you abhor all things unbecoming a lady, dear sister,” Orris retorted. She matched the angry glare, serving as a mirror to Violetta.

Once satisfied, she turned her attention to the luncheon before her, catching her mama staring at Violetta, then to Orris, and back again. “Whatever has come over you two? I can recall when you two and Myrtle were inseparable. Even in collusion against my designs on securing suitable matches for you. And now… you behave as if you were mortal enemies.”

Orris opened her mouth, then shut it. What could she say that wouldn’t hurt Violetta? Everyone could see how her pursuit of a husband had changed her.

“Good afternoon to you, family.” Myrtle and her husband, Viscount Fredericks, breezed into the parlor, soundly saving Orris from her mother’s question.

“Oh, my darlings,” Mama exclaimed, laying her napkin on the table and standing to open her arms wide.

Myrtle and Samuel walked over to her, returning the affection with a hug and kisses on both cheeks. Myrtle wore the deep-emerald colors associated with Fredericks House but remained true to her Gray side of the family with the large sapphire necklace gifted to her by Mama during their first year in London.

“Mama, Sisters, we are deeply regretful to not have notified you earlier. We decided to surprise you and sit in on your portraits,” Myrtle said. She quickly moved around the table to offer Violetta, then Orris, an elaborate display of affection.

Mama had been right. They were extremely close, and even when they quarreled, their love for one another shone as bright as the North Star.

“I am surprised, but it is very good to see you. You look well, Sister. And you, Samuel.” Violetta spoke to him while still holding on to Myrtle.

“You are the picture of health and vibrancy, Vi,” he said, walking over to Orris and bowing to kiss her hand. “As are you, Orris.”

Orris stood to give him a hug the moment he’d released her hand. Samuel was an exceptional gentleman. He was smart, witty, and perfect for her sister. If only there were others like him in London. For Orris’s part, she had seen not one single bachelor who was not interested in her dowry, and fewer with any personality whatsoever.

She would just as soon marry a horse. At least she never had to worry over it wandering from rider to rider. Horses were loyal, and not one of her callers even considered them more than tools for transportation, hunting, or hauling farming equipment. Orris loved the gentle creatures. How could a man be expected to relate to her if they shared no common interests?

Why was it no one in her life understood having common goals with their choice in a partner? It was almost as if women were a commodity.

“So, tell me. What has been happening since we last saw one another?” Myrtle asked, once all the pleasantries were out of the way. She took a smattering of food from each platter while Mama poured her tea. They were alone in the room, no servants present, as Mama often dismissed them once they’d set out the array of food. Everyone could speak freely then.

“Oh, typically well. Your sisters will be accepting callers in the next few days. The house is almost ready to be opened. Just a few more details.” Mama brimmed with excitement. Her life was nearly what she’d dreamed of her entire life. As an opera singer, the doors of society had been firmly shut in London. It was not until wealth had found her by way of her now-deceased husband, Asa Gray, that she’d been able to return to London alongside three heiresses that the whole of the beau monde had received her.

With Myrtle becoming the newest Viscountess Fredericks, Lady Fredericks, there was no stopping the most eligible gentlemen of Mayfair from courting both Violetta and Orris. Power, respectability, and a presumed rise in stature were all on the table.

Myrtle nodded slightly, then looked to her sisters. “And you, Violetta… Orris? Are you both ready for the rigors of the season?”

Vi nodded, the expertly coiffed curls shifting ever so gently as she did so. “Yes, I have studied all the miniatures of this season’s bachelors. I have also studied my dance steps, as well as started French lessons with a tutor. I shall have my pick nearly quick enough to cause a scandal.”

Myrtle laughed along with Vi. Orris merely rolled her eyes. Just as she did not believe she should be placed in a barrel for shooting, she also thought men should not be treated as pawns, either.

“And what of you, Orris? Are you comfortable with the requirements of the social season?” Myrtle almost sounded like Mama.

When Orris brought her head up from her plate of sausage, she caught the conspiratorial wink Myrtle offered. She must have wanted Orris to know she was still on her side.

Myrtle had never taken finding a husband more seriously than any other thing.

“Yes, of course,” Orris said mocking-sweetly. “I will find a way to rope and hogtie a man before July. Then all I’ll need to do is skin him and mount him to a wall.”

Mama nearly choked on her roll. “Orris! What has come over you?”

Vi chortled, then sucked at her teeth.