Verity was grateful for the silencing look her mother must have shot at Henry. She truly did not need to hear all of this right before dinner.
She did not want to hear a thing.
The city passed by the window of the carriage and Verity allowed herself to get lost in it for a moment. Anything was better than thinking about her future.
Verity knew that her brother could not care for her forever. She did not wish for him to do so, but she had tried to find a suitable match for herself. Even when she was in mourning over what had happened with Cedric, she still attended all the high society events the following year. It wasn’t her fault that no one really even seemed to look her way.
Eventually, much too quickly in Verity’s opinion, they arrived at the Aldford residence. It was a grand manor house with a large estate surrounding it, but Verity did not care for a tour of the home, because she did not wish to be here for long.
She could hardly even lift her eyes of the ground as the butler greeted them and took them inside. How was she supposed to be polite to this stranger when she knew that her brother wished to set them up? It was such an awkward and humiliating position to find herself in, especially because she had met Cedric so organically at a ball.
“Well hello there.” A much older man rose to his feet as soon as they stepped inside the parlor. “Lord Henry Sinclair, how wonderful it’s to see you.”
“Lord Ambrose Aldford,” Henry replied with a much more pleasant tone than he had used in the carriage when speaking toVerity. “Thank you so much for inviting us. This is my mother, Lady Elizabeth Sinclair, Countess of Reedsfield, and my sister, Lady Verity Sinclair.”
“How wonderful it’s to meet you.” Ambrose bowed and Verity curtsied, but she could not help feeling incredibly awkward, like she was on display. “And here are my five daughters. Lady Cordelia Aldford, and Lady Amelia Aldford. And my three youngest who have not debuted yet. Sarah, Patsy, and Harriet.”
Verity forced herself to smile. The younger girls all beamed back at her, well-practiced in their politeness. But the older sisters made it abundantly clear right away that they were not impressed with the sight of Verity at all. They greeted her with a monotone voice and made it very obvious that they were running their eyes up and down her in disgust. Was it her dress that did not please them, or Verity’s presence herself? She wasn’t pleased to find herself here either, but she did not think there any reason to be so rude about it.
Verity could not help but shrink under their scrutinizing gazes.
“Well,” Ambrose finally declared. “Let us head to the dining room. Dinner is served.”
Verity waited until everyone else walked first. She could not stand the idea of anyone looking at her from behind. Especially when she knew that everyone had talked behind her back for many a month.
Amelia and Cordelia walked just ahead of her, whispering just loud enough for her to hear, which actually might have been worse than whispers out of ear shot behind her.
She was certainly more burned by them.
“I would be embarrassed,” Cordelia giggled. “Being a jilted spinster.”
“I know,” Amelia agreed just as nastily. “I would not allow my face to be seen in public after what happened.”
An intense heat burned in Verity’s cheeks. This was exactly what she had been worried about. Having these girls hit on her worst insecurities only made this painful evening even harder to deal with. How was she supposed to get through this whole dinner when it was clear that she wasn’t welcome?
How could Henry do this to her?
The dining room was lavishly decorated, the long table set with fine china and sparkling crystal. Verity took her seat, strategically positioned between her mother and Henry, but directly across from Ambrose and his daughters. She kept her eyes downcast, hoping to avoid any more cutting glances or whispered insults, but she had a feeling that they would continue to come her way regardless.
Ambrose, seemingly oblivious to the tension, began the dinner with a toast.
“To new beginnings and prosperous futures,” he declared, raising his glass.
Verity forced a smile and lifted her glass along with everyone else, though she felt anything but celebratory.
The meal commenced, and Verity found herself picking at her food, her appetite completely absent. Conversations flowed around her, primarily between Henry and Ambrose, who discussed business and mutual acquaintances with an air of camaraderie that only deepened Verity’s sense of isolation.
Occasionally, Elizabeth would attempt to draw Verity into the conversation, asking her opinion on various topics, but Verity’s responses were brief and stilted. Her mind was too preoccupied with the whispers and laughter that seemed to bubble up every time Cordelia or Amelia spoke. She could not seem to manage any more than that.
Desperate to find some common ground, Elizabeth tried to steer the conversation toward Verity’s passion, just to see if there was anything herself and Ambrose could build upon
“Lord Aldford,” Elizabeth began, her voice steady but tinged with apprehension, “I have heard that you have a fine collection of paintings. That is very interesting, especially as Verity is an artist herself.
Ambrose looked at Verity, his expression bordering on condescending as he responded.
“Yes, I have a rather extensive collection,” he said dismissively, taking a sip of his wine. “However, it’s merely a hobby of mine, nothing more. I find my time is better spent on more practical pursuits.”
Verity’s heart sank.
