Perception ✔

14 Cads & Consequences

The day of our first party, two days later, my nerves were frayed. I had no appetite but forced myself to eat lest the girls catch my jitters.

Edmond spent the entire day cleaning my carriage—we'd all but abandoned Gareth's, while the house was abuzz with life from the three girls panicking at every misplaced hairpin.

Cinderella hesitated a time or two but once she held her gift of chocolates, thankfully from a batch she hadn't sneaked, she felt more confident.

Edmond would drive us, Poppy decided, even though we still had one perfectly capable coachman. She insisted he was too old. Admittedly, much like the cook, he was not at the manor in full capacity.

I understood Poppy's trick immediately. Surely, Edmond did as well. Still, he gave no protest. When we emerged from the house to him dressed so well, my feet felt heavy. My heart pounded but all the blood rushed to my gut.

The girls overtook me, for what else could they do when their silly mother stopped moving?

Once they were down the steps, Edmond held out his hand for them each and they piled into the carriage.

When it was my turn, I feared he'd let me fall. Instead of two hands, however, he held me by the waist, an action that lit me up. It wasn't uncommon; this was usually how he assisted me. Perhaps it was the extra care needed for the elderly.

I felt a hundred years old when he eased me in. The door closed to Cinderella's marveled words. "Stepmother, your face is so red!"

This didn't help my blush. I fanned myself. "Oh, it's just so hot," I said, ignoring the cool breeze of the evening. Once the carriage started moving and I could get my thoughts together, I focused on Poppy and Piglet sitting across from Cinderella and I. They were to keep her safe.

"But...that requires so much effort," Poppy cautioned. "What sort of reputation would we garnish?"

"That does not matter," I informed her. "If it requires hostility, so be it. I will need to get a feel of the mothers to see where any danger may lie." I told Piglet, "Your voice is unparalleled. So do not shy away." Poppy had no need for my praises, so I left it at that.

Cinderella was all nerves. I squeezed her hands. I wanted to convey some good news I'd gotten from Edmond...before he'd deemed me an unworthy friend.

One look at Cinderella's labored breathing, and not for the corset, and I decided against sharing it.

Apparently, Poppy, who had been in attendance when I spoke to Edmond, decided this was good motivational news to share, and not something terrifying for three young women who barely knew what to expect from this party much less life. Therefore, she took it upon herself to do the honors.

"Sometimes, members of the royal family frequent these events incognito." When her news failed to garner any wild shrieks as she herself seemed ready to give, she asked, "Isn't that amazing?"

The light in her blue-gray eyes had me smiling. It was rare that she looked so young. Today, too, she had most of her right eye nearly covered by her hair. The rest was tied up. Truth be told, she and Cinderella...looked alike. Should they stand side-by-side for any given moment, their blood relation became apparent.

Similarities in looks were as far as it went. Their personalities were polar opposites.

"That sounds difficult," Cinderella said, "to keep track of the guest while searching out a duke or duchess."

"Not just the duke or duchess but an even higher ranking! Why, don't you want to marry into royalty! Wouldn't that be splendid?"

No one echoed the sentiment but I was pleased. Seeing Poppy lose her composure wasn't common. This was the only thing she'd ever wanted...to marry into the monarchy, something that was an impossibility within her father's merchant class. I'd never told them about my own background—the memories were too painful. But now, with the help of this marriage and a bit of prestige and luck, anything was possible.