Page 2 of The Pureblood Daughter
“Is something the matter, Papa?”
The expression vanishes, replaced with the endearing smile Adelina is so used to. “Not at all.” He hands the letter back to Lady Gray and opens his paper once more.
“The Rosettis,” Adelina says, looking to her mother now that her father has dissolved into his news stories once again. “Lord Rosetti is—”
“An earl,” Lady Gray says. She lowers the letter and sets her sights on Adelina. “And his eldest son is unmarried yet. Aviscount.” She begins to fan herself with the parchment as if the very thought has her overheating. “Can you imagine?”
Adelina cannot. A wealthy viscount would be a good match indeed for any of the young ladies looking so dutifully for a husband, but he’d certainly not have any interest in her. “Mama, you know I—”
“I know you have all the qualities of a lovely wife,” Lady Gray says, and it’s as though she can read Adelina’s mind. “Why shouldn’t the viscount take an interest in you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps because I can barely take a turn about the floor without feeling faint?” Adelina clutches her linen napkin in her lap, but her mother brushes her off with a wave.
“Hurry now and finish your breakfast. We must go to the modiste promptly. If everyone received an invitation—oh, it’ll be dreadfully crowded. You know how popular Mrs. McDonald’s designs are. Rose!” Lady Gray rises from her chair and sweeps from the room, still beckoning the lady’s maid, the letter clutched in her hand.
Adelina looks helplessly to her father. “Papa, you must tell her.”
He lowers his paper so Adelina can see his smile. Taking her hand, he gives her fingers a light squeeze. “You know how she gets about these things. Indulge her, hmm? You’re her only daughter, after all.”
Blowing out a sigh, Adelina pulls away from him. “Oh, very well.” When he puts it that way, how can she refuse?
Her father chuckles and resumes reading.
Another ball, she thinks as she pops a second cherry into her mouth,another opportunity to see that which I can never have.The juice explodes on her tongue, tart and sweet.How delightful.
Chapter Two
The carriage coasts along thecobbled streets of Everborough, and Adelina leans over to peer from the window. It is an overcast night, and the moon limns the dark clouds in silver. Despite the shawl draped over Adelina’s shoulders, she shivers.
“There it is,” Lady Gray whispers as she looks out the window beside Adelina, her tone bordering on reverence.
Indeed, the Rosetti manor strikes veneration into Adelina’s heart, and she can’t help the slight gasp that escapes her lips. “It’s so...” She searches for the right word as the carriage rolls up the winding drive toward the glowing manor, and only when the footman has helped her from the carriage and she looks upon the home in all its grandeur does she finally find the word.
Romantic.
The manor has more windows than she has time to count, and its steeply pitched roof seems to touch the sky. If she were to stand on that roof, perhaps she’d know what it’s like to trail her fingertips through a cloud or taste a rainbow on her tongue. Would it taste like spring? Like collecting flowers with one’s lover after a storm? The thought sends goose bumps dancing over her skin.
Lady Gray steps down from the carriage behind her and takes Adelina’s arm.
“Are you ready?” she asks, reaching out to lift Adelina’s chin with a featherlight touch.
“For what?” Adelina pulls away. “We’ve been to ten balls this season, and I can count on one hand how many dances I’ve had.” She pushes her shoulders back and stands tall. “This ball will be no different.”
Lady Gray clucks her tongue. “You don’t know that. Where’s your sense of spirit? Ofromance?” She opens her fan with a snap and flutters it demurely, making the ringlets of blond hair around her temples dance. “Perhaps you’ll meet your husband tonight, hmm?”
Her mother’s excitement makes Adelina smile even though she’s tempted to frown.
Once Lord Gray has stepped from the carriage and taken the ladies’ arms, the three set off toward the Rosetti manor.
Adelina tries not to grip her father’s arm too tight, but she feels she might lose her balance as they climb the many stairs to the entryway. She pauses to catch her breath at the top, and then her mother guides her gently inside.
Servants swarm about the hall, serving glasses of wine and trays of appetizers that make Adelina’s mouth water. Young women in pastel dresses sweep past with dizzying grace, pursued—ever politely—by gentlemen with horses and houses and butlers to call their own. Laughter and voices rise into the cathedral ceiling, where hundreds of candles flicker, casting light on the revelers below.
Adelina tilts her head back to take in the artwork adorning the ceiling, but she can scarcely make out a painted form before her mother ushers her into the ballroom, where a quadrille is well underway.
As soon as she steps through the arched doorway, her chest constricts. Couples dance to a song played by an orchestra sitting upon a dais at the far end of the ballroom. The dancers move as if of one body, not a pointed toe or carefully positioned hand out of place. If a young man were to slip his hand ever a touch low, a lady might be required by decorum to pull hastily away, even should she wish to explore that touch further. Not that Adelina would know.
In the rare occurrence she’s asked to dance, her steps are always one beat behind, her every gesture slightly out of sync with those around her. Thinking of it now, she glances down and finds her fingertips trembling. She clenches her hand into a fist as a young woman appears from the fold.
