Page 25 of The Pureblood Daughter
She sits back and presses a hand to her forehead, taking a moment to breathe and steady herself. Rose brought afternoon tea and sandwiches not long ago, and although the tray is empty now, Adelina still feels ravenous. Her swimming vision and light-headedness serve to make her nauseated, and she’s just reached to take a sip of tea when her mother sweeps into the room.
Lady Gray carries a note in her gloved hand, and her lips are pulled into a frown. She settles onto the settee nearest Adelina and lets out a troubled sigh.
“What bothers you, Mama?” Adelina asks. She sips her tea, which is now cold, and looks up at her mother expectantly.
“A letter came for you,” Lady Gray says, though she’s lacking the usual excitement correspondence brings her. Instead of beaming, she worries at her lower lip.
“Who from?”
“The viscount.”
Adelina’s heart pitter-patters in her chest, but she strives to give no outward indication of her excitement. Lord Rosetti sends letters in the evening; why now send one to the house, knowing it would surely be intercepted?
“He wishes to accompany you to the opera tomorrow evening.”
Adelina sets her cup and saucer down on the tray and turns to face her mother head-on. “You sound troubled by this.” She glances at the letter clutched in her mother’s hand and feels a wave of anger. Her mother reads all the letters that come to the house—aside from Papa’s, of course—and Adelina wishes for once she could read her notes in privacy.
“It’s not me, dear. It’s your father.” Lady Gray leans back on the settee and sighs. “He’s been absurd about Lord Rosetti’s courting of you. That night after the Oakley ball, I thought I’d never hear the end of it. But for goodness’ sake, his father’s anearl. Should you marry, you’d be a countess someday.” She laughs and presses her fingertips to her forehead, which has a gentle glow from the heat in the room. “If only men saw fit to explain their ways to us.”
If only, Adelina thinks, still perturbed about the viscount’s elusiveness.
“May I?” Adelina holds out a hand, and her mother passes her the letter. The wax seal on the outside is broken, but its vibrant crimson color catches her eye. She holds the letter taut, and the script on the page matches that on the letters she receives near nightly.
Miss Gray,
I was pleased to escort you about the floor at the Oakley ball, and I’ve thought of you often since. It would be an honor to accompany you to the opera tomorrow evening. Should you find this agreeable, I will look forward to meeting you this coming eve.
Cordially,
Viscount Theodore Rosetti
Adelina touches the ink that forms his name, then catches herself and quickly folds the letter up before handing it back to her mother.
“I’d like to accept his invitation.”
Lady Gray smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and Adelina already knows what she’s going to say.
“Your father has forbidden it, my dear.”
“He has forbidden me from attending the opera?” she asks, her voice sharp. “What madness is this, Mama? Lord Rosetti is a viscount, and he’s taken an interest inme. My shakes and spells have never given Papa reason to prohibit gentlemen from courting me before, so why now? Whyhim?”
Her mother opens her mouth—perhaps to remind Adelina that she’s neverbeencourted before—then quickly closes it. The fire is gone from her brown eyes, and she casts her gaze out the far window.
“I don’t claim to understand him, Adelina. I told you yesterday, he’s been ill-tempered of late. It’s unlike him, and... it worries me.” Lady Gray grips the letter in her lap, and the crinkle of the paper pierces Adelina’s ears.
Lately, she’s been sensitive to light and sound; the shrill sting of silverware on porcelain near sent her into a fit over breakfast. If not for the fact she’s never been bedded by a man, she might indeed think herself with child.
She stands from the pianoforte and walks to the window. Outside, the sun is shining, and people stroll in the warm air. Ladies walk arm in arm with their husbands, some with children and nursemaids in tow. Adelina narrows her eyes, her fingertips pressing against the windowsill as if she could tear it away with her bare hands, free herself from her father’s rules and her mother’s hovering. It’s never bothered her before, but now, when she wants something for the first time, her parents insist upon standing in her way.
“So, that’s it, then? Papa will steal my only chance at marrying and leave me to wander these halls a spinster?” Adelina whirls and levels a glare at her mother. “You do realize this may very well mean I’ll never give you grandchildren, yet you’re going toallowit?”
She shouldn’t have said that; to bring grandchildren into an argument is akin to digging a knife into her mother’s back. Regret floods Adelina, but she can’t bring herself to apologize, the anger still so sharp on her tongue.
Lady Gray’s faraway look shifts, morphing into sadness, then an austere expression. She rises, her shoulders pulled back and her spine straight. “It’ll do you no good to raise your voice at me. I’ve tried to convince your father otherwise, but he’ll not hear it, not since the Oakley ball. You shouldn’t have danced with him that night. Youknewyour father’s feelings on the matter and chose still to disobey him.”
“Disobey? Mama, do you hear yourself?” Adelina’s voice carries, and out in the hall, one of the maids pauses, surely to listen and report back to the other staff what she heard. “I’m being courted by aviscount. Am I the only person still of sound mind in this family?” She throws her hands up and laughs humorlessly.
“It seems your father is not the only person in this household who’s acting”—Lady Gray’s gaze shifts up and down Adelina’s aggressive posture—“out of character. Lord Rosetti will not be accompanying you to the opera. If you have something more to say about it, you can take it up with your father. I’m tired of fighting with him.” Lady Gray drops the viscount’s letter onto the settee and quirks a hazel brow before turning and leaving the sitting room, closing the door a bit too loudly behind her.
