18. Miss Carter's Solution

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"The wedding ceremony was lovely," Mabel lied to Miss Carter, dipping her head. Both lying and head-dipping were becoming unattractive habits, but she couldn't help it. The yesterday's wedding was the worst day of her life, even with all the terrible things that had befallen her lately.

Beautiful in white, Hazel glowed, then looked as modest as could be wished for in a virginal bride. Every fold of her dress, every flower she caressed, every smile she gave said that she was entering the holy matrimony with joy and willingness. It was as if she had never spoken with disdain about marrying beneath her or gave away her maidenhead.

Mr. Aldington couldn't stay solemn for happiness. It broke through his reticent nature like sunlight through the forest boughs. It tormented Mabel. She was lying to him. She was lying in the house of God. Worse, the besotted gleam in Mr. Aldington's eyes reminded her of the gleam in Everett's eyes when he mocked her. When he had just sampled Mr. Aldington's perfect bride.

She couldn't forget. Sweat coated her armpits even in the coolness of the parish church. The spacious building of old sandstone, smelling comfortingly of melted wax, didn't hold enough air to refill her lungs. Everett kissed her. He kissed her right after he had lain with her sister. He was incestous, he was sinful and his lips had tasted hers. She rolled her eyes up to keep the tears from flowing and the church from spinning. She couldn't forget.

All she wanted was to drop into Miss Carter's arms and confess everything. To weep over her damned soul, because despite her remorse, she still wanted to be Hazel. Oh, how she wanted to be uncommonly pretty for just one day! How she wanted to get from men exactly what she desired. Alas, throwing her heart open would lose her Hazel's sisterhood and Miss Carter's respect.

So, instead of crying, she laughed, telling Miss Carter how Dr. Berkshire interpreted her tearful gaze in the wrongest way possible (while concealing what caused them, of course).

She described the wedding breakfast, without omitting a single item from the panoply served, then tried to imitate the man's pompous expression.

"Miss Walton." She squinted to remember what he had said word for word. "Miss Walton, you appear to be in a melancholy and on such a joyous occasion as today! I beg of you to open your eyes to those who would divert you from it."

And she straightened her shoulders just like he did, so much so that her bosom bulged forward.

Miss Carter—Harriet, as she had asked Mabel to call her—laughed uproariously. "How deliciously awkward!"

Amelia smiled wanly from her chair. A basket of yarn replaced the kitten in her lap. She was rewinding the balls to give thread desired thickness.

"I didn't know what to say after that, my dear Harriet, so I just ate the wedding cake, like I haven't eaten in weeks," Mabel said.

"This doesn't fall far from the truth, for you have a miser's appetite lately," Harriet chided.

She squeezed her eyes just for a split moment, trying to forget. They wanted her to eat and be jolly. "Alas, the delicious cake, dusted with sugar and full of raisins, tasted like cockroaches after Dr. Berkshire's speeches. Now I feel like a terrible fool for missing out on the flavours."

"I believe we can help this," Harriet exclaimed, pushing the plate with tarts toward Mabel.

She studied the wonderfully browned tarts. "And my maid nearly fainted trying to lace my corset this morning to add to my grief." They also wanted her to have a tiny waist.

"Then find a stronger maid." Miss Carter dismissed her complaint with a wave of her hand. "As for your other misfortune... There is one prospect that I wish to discuss with you before bringing it forth to your parents."

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