Page 408 of Hell Hath No Fury
ATONEMENT
A NOVELLA FROM THE SOCIETY CHRONICLES
IVY FOX
CHAPTER ONE
Colleen
“God, I’m excited for tonight! Aren’t you excited, Col? I’m soooo excited!” Sierra squeals, before stretching her arms out, far and wide at her sides, twirling around in the center of my bedroom like a spinning top run mad.
If I didn’t know by now that my kid sister was absolutely giddy about attending tonight’s gala at the Richfield Country Club, then her little dance would have been sufficient to clue me in on how ecstatic she is.
Ever since her cotillion took place last month, or as my mother calls it, ‘Sierra’s official entrance into high society,’ my sister has made it a point to RSVPyesto every invitation that comes through our mailbox, determined not to miss a single event this summer.
Not that I can fault her enthusiasm.
In fact, I prefer Sierra like this—excited and gleeful.
It beats the tension she had been creating in our home for the past few years.
Although, again, I don’t blame my baby sister for that either.
It’s not her fault our mother had been adamant in keeping her under lock and key until her acceptable coming out dance at sixteen. She only allowed Sierra to attend family gatherings, school functions, and very little else until then. Not that our mother’s strict rules on Sierra came as much of a surprise to me. Not too long ago, the matriarch of our family had imposed the same restrictions on me when I was her age. But where Ihad been fine leading my life away from the public eye that the Richfield name immediately puts us under, my sister was starting to grow resentful with each passing day that she was deprived of the attention. Not being able to attend all the soirees and galas us Richfields are forced to be a part of in Asheville was also starting to create a wedge between us, one that was growing day by day, hindering whatever sibling affection Sierra could have for me.
And although as the eldest daughter of Josephine Richfield I have been groomed not to show my true feelings in any situation, having my baby sister mad at me through no fault of my own was hurting me deeply and it was getting harder and harder to hide how affected I was by Sierra’s increasing bitterness toward me. So much so, that even I found myself counting down the days until Sierra could accompany me to these boring lame events.
Besides, if there was anyone in all of Northside who could make even the most boresome, tedious affairs somewhat eventful, it would be her. Sierra can turn anything into a party.
Alas, it’s one of the flagrant differences between the two of us.
While she is wild and free of all inhibitions, I was taught that for a woman to be taken seriously, she had to be serious herself. So even though we might have both grown up in the same strict household, Sierra is not like me in any way, shape, or form. Never has been, never will be—no matter how displeasing that fact is to our mother. With a stubbornness that is almost enviable, Sierra refuses to conform to the shackles of our legacy or upbringing. And if I’m perfectly honest with myself, on some level, I do envy her rebellious nature. However, I try to surpass that small sliver of envy, knowing that Sierra can be the way she is only because she had the good fortune of being born second in line.
I wasn’t as lucky.
Still…
I’m grateful that she doesn’t have the same burdens on her shoulders that were bestowed upon me right from birth. Sierra deserves better than the prison that awaits me. She’s the very definition of a ray of sunshine. Her light is so bright that it’s almost blinding in its beauty, eclipsing everyone around her. If she walked a mile in my shoes, then that light would eventually dim and the world would be lesser for it.
“I wonder who’s going to be there? All of Northside’s heavy hitters, most likely. Do you think the gala will have a band? God, I hope they don’t put on that classical music that bores me to tears. I want to dance all night!” She giggles, still twirling around like a merry-go-round on steroids.
“Can you stop? You’re making me dizzy just from looking at you.” I pretend to scowl, brushing my hair for the umpteenth time this evening.
On cue, she stops her childish dance, placing her hands on her hips as she glowers at me.
“Doesn’t it get tiring?” she asks with a frown.
Pretending to stare at my own reflection in the mirror, and not hers behind me, I continue to comb my hair, refusing to acknowledge her displeasure with me. When she sees that I’m not going to engage with whatever is on her mind, she takes a few steps closer to me, her perfectly flawless reflection making mine look pale in comparison.
“It must hurt like hell, huh?” she insists, this time with a pitying gaze.
“What does?” I reply on autopilot.
“Having that stick up your ass? You’ll probably need surgery to remove that sucker with how far it’s up there.”
My lips twitch on their sides, but I quickly tame them before my smile is let loose. Our mother taught me long ago that norespectable woman laughs at such poor humor. Especially when it’s made at her expense.
“Cute,” I mumble instead, keeping my scowl in place. “Don’t let Momma hear how funny you are tonight, or she won’t let you come to the dance.”
