She flinched then turned on the spot to face him, her eyes narrowed.
She found an expression not unlike her own staring back at her. Her father was glowering at her, utter dislike spread across her face.
“Now, we must talk of all that you will do as a marchioness. First, you must hold a ball.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why must I?”
“Because it is the done thing,” Margaret explained, waving her arms in the air. “You must announce yourself as a marchioness on the ton’s stage. You must play a part now. It is a performance.”
“You must also hold a tea party, only for the ladies,” Ernest went on. “Your mother did the same when we married.”
“Yes, that’s right. You must invite all the well-to-do ladies that you can,” Margaret seconded. “As for your clothes…” She looked down the gown that Frederica was wearing.
Once again, Frederica had donned the pink gown her aunt had given her. It was the only one in her wardrobe that she felt truly comfortable in. She fidgeted with it now, adjusting the skirt haphazardly.
“You must start dressing like a marchioness.” Margaret gestured to a pile of ladies’ journals and magazines she had brought with her. “These will tell you all about the latest fashions from Paris. The mode this month is ruffles.”
Frederica tried her best not to scoff, knowing it would incur her parents’ wrath all the more.
“You know she will not do it, Margaret.” Ernest sighed heavily, rubbing his brow. “She is quite determined to embarrass us. I am convinced of it. Did you not see how interminably miserable she looked at their wedding? I am sure she did it just to spite us.”
“Ernest!” Margaret complained.
“I know it,” Ernest spat.
Frederica felt pain in her gut. She didn’t know what else to do. The guilt was swelling inside her, along with the shame and fury. She couldn’t argue with her parents; that particular fire had completely gone. Instead, she spun on her heel and marched toward the door, only before she could reach it, it opened.
She jumped back to avoid being hit as Allan walked into the room. His eyes shot to her and then to her parents.
Something leapt in her chest at seeing him. She was trying to hold so many emotions inside of her that the confusion of happiness, relief, and fear at his entrance made it all the worse. She blinked madly, holding back tears she was afraid would fall.
The idea that Allan would hear even more about how much her parents were disappointed in her was a cruel thought indeed.
“Frederica?” he said to her, walking toward her. “Your parents have come to visit?”
She nodded, unable to speak for a sudden lump in her throat.
“What a pleasant house you have, My Lord,” Margaret declared with a suddenly simpering tone, moving to her feet as she swept an arm around the room, admiringly.
Frederica tore her gaze away from her mother, choosing to stare at Allan instead. She was still trying to figure out a way to creep past him and escape her parents.
“We simply came to see if our daughter was settling in,” Ernest explained.
“Were you now?” Allan asked in a somewhat dubious tone. He walked toward Frederica, his eyes moving to meet hers. “Are you all right?”
“I —”
“She’s fine,” Ernest said, cutting Frederica off before she could finish speaking for herself. The expression on Allan’s face altered at once. His jaw hardened to something that was almost unrecognizable. “We have simply been giving her instructions in how to behave now she is a marchioness.”
“What events to hold — a ball, and a tea party,” Margaret chimed in.
“Who she should invite,” Ernest continued.
“What she should wear.”
“I see,” Allan said coolly. “And you think a marchioness needs to hear such words from an earl and countess, do you?”
Frederica’s eyes widened.
