Ever since she was injured in a terrible accident, Cordelia Williams has felt adrift. The accident claimed more than her limb; it ruined her reputation and destroyed her dream of becoming a famous painter.
Worried that her disability makes her a dis...
Sunlight crept through Cordelia's curtains, painting her eyelids red. She groaned, draping an arm across her face.
Last night was a blur. She had vague memories of sharing scones with Benny and trading stories with Ophelia. They'd stayed in the rose garden until the quiet hour before dawn, their faces tipped toward the star-speckled sky.
It felt like a miracle they hadn't been caught. Cook had been making bread when they walked inside. The older woman had kept her eyes on the kitchen table, kneading herbs into the dough. A smile had slipped across her wrinkled face.
Cordelia squinted at the window. The bread would have finished baking by now. Servants had probably served warm, honey-drizzled slices to Mother in bed. Benny and Ophelia would have eaten with Father in the breakfast room, dark circles under their eyes. Had they missed her? Would Ophelia continue acknowledging her, or had they faded to strangers with the rising sun?
Cordelia was in no hurry to find out.
She rubbed her forehead, fighting off an impending headache. Her gaze landed on the trunk beside her desk, and the pain grew sharper. Part of her had hoped yesterday's important announcement was a dream, but it seemed she wasn't so lucky. Her parents really did want to send her to a convent.
A series of knocks rang at her door. Cordelia straightened her sleeves. She'd collapsed into bed after parting ways with Benny and Ophelia, not bothering to change out of her dress. The rumpled green fabric had seen better days, although she supposed that was bound to happen after a race in the rain and a late-night foray through a rose garden.
"Come in," she called, gathering her blanket around her chest.
Hannah slipped into the room. She carried a silver tray with a teapot and a matching teacup. A slice of fresh bread accompanied the tea set.
Cordelia's mouth watered.
"I hope I didn't disturb your rest," Hannah said, closing the door behind her. "I would have waited longer, but your mother grew concerned when you didn't emerge from your room." Her voice lowered, and she gave Cordelia a conspiratorial smile. "If I didn't know better, I'd say she's worried you've fled the manor. She muttered something about you being halfway across the country by now."
"Leaving Mother's presence will be a travesty, indeed," Cordelia said. "I can't wait to hear her farewell speech. I'm sure she's been practicing for weeks."
Hannah set the tray on the dressing table. Her fingers flitted over vials of rosewater and pots of face cream. She picked up one of the pots, looking between Cordelia and the pale cream. "In that case, perhaps we ought to spend extra time getting you ready. We still have four days until your carriage departs. Your mother might think twice about sending you away if you look like a proper lady."
Cordelia eyed the beauty products. "Do you think changing my appearance will make that much of a difference?" she asked.
Hannah exchanged the face cream for a necklace. She held it up, checking it against Cordelia's eyes. "It will once wealthy suitors start calling on you."
Cordelia choked on her tea. The teacup rattled in its saucer as she scanned the room for the nearest exit. Was it too late to climb out the window?
Hannah disappeared into Cordelia's wardrobe and returned with an armload of dresses. A familiar twinkle shone in her eyes. "Trust me, by the time I'm finished, Mr. Ingram and his friends won't be able to take their eyes off you."
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