“Clary,” Emily said, sounding pained. “You promised to wake me up. Look at the snow! I could not believe it when I opened my eyes this morning. Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your life?”
Clarissa chuckled as her ebullient cousin practically ran tothe window. If she had been five years younger, she might have pressed her nose against the glass, but thankfully, at nearly eighteen, she had a little more decorum than that.
“One would think you had never seen snow before,” she said teasingly.
“Not in the country! This is my first Christmas here.”
Emily had come to live with them two years earlier when Clarissa’s uncle tragically died in a riding accident. Lord Crompton had welcomed Emily into the bosom of the family without delay. She was a dear girl, although her enthusiasm and excitement could be tiring at times. She was still not out in society, given the concerns her father retained over allowing this too early, but she was charismatic, beautiful, and strong in character.
Clarissa had taken a little while to grow used to her, however. When Emily arrived, Clarissa felt bitter toward her parents for their obvious excitement and happiness at having two girls in the house again. Despite her own confusing feelings toward Catherine, she still missed her sister terribly and did not like the idea that Emily had been adopted as a replacement.
Since then, however, she had grown to love her dearly. How could she not when the girl was such a ball of happiness?
“Would you like some tea? You are going to wear out the carpet if you hop about like that.”
Emily turned with a grin and came to sit beside her as Clarissa poured some tea for them both. For a blissful moment, all was quiet as Emily sat back on her chair, staring out the window and sipping her tea, her eyes twinkling merrily.
Clarissa settled herself, sighing contentedly and listening to the crackle of the fire. There were three letters beside the teapot that she had not immediately observed, and she now picked them up. Two of them were bills for services rendered. The third she did not recognize and frowned at it.
She opened it without much cause for alarm until she read the missive inside. Clarissa swallowed convulsively, her fingers tightening on the paper, noting its quality and thickness.
They had been invited to a house party at Lady Eleanor Kingston’s country estate. Clarissa rose to her feet and then abruptly sat down again as Emily turned to stare at her in surprise.
She read it again, but there could be no mistake. Lady Eleanor expected the ‘pleasure of their company’ for Christmas.
She suddenly found it hard to breathe and tried her best to tamp down the nervous energy fluttering through her body. It had been a very long time since anyone in good society had thought of the Crompton’s and pleasurable company in the same sentence.
“What is it, Clarissa? You have gone very pale,” Emily said, a little frown marring her face.
Clarissa startled as the door opened behind them, and her mother entered the room. Her mother had an elegant stride, which Clarissa had always admired. They were almost as tall as one another now, but Clarissa had never been able to emulate her poise.
Lady Crompton wore a long plum gown of fine silk. Her blonde hair, streaked with grey, was twisted atop her head in a complicated construction, her expression tight and irritated.
“Good morning, Mama,” Clarissa said carefully.
“Good morning, Aunt,” Emily piped up.
Clarissa swiftly hid the invitation behind her back, giving a warning look to her cousin. Her mother walked immediately to the fire, plucking a discarded shawl from the back of one of the armchairs and flicking an irritated glance at her daughter as she pulled it about her shoulders.
“It is so cold in the house, Clarissa. Are we to have no fires this winter?”
It was an old argument.
Her mother was used to luxury and had not adapted well to being excluded from society. Although her father’s business dealings had picked up in recent months, Clarissa was still loath to overindulge in buying coal. Lady Crompton would have burned all the wood in the estate on the first day of winter if she had her way.
“I will ask Poppy to bank it up for you, Mama. Have you seen the snow? It is so beautiful.”
“It is a nuisance for getting about,” her mother snapped, placing her hands closer to the fire and sighing heavily. “I would give a great deal to live throughout the year in the sunshine. I cannot abide all this cold.”
After a short pause, her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she turned to Clarissa with a half-smile. “I am sorry; I fear I have not had enough sleep.”
“Papa’s slumber has not improved, I take it?” Clarissa inquired gently.
Her mother cast her a fatigue glance. “It has only worsened.”
They shared a smile, and her mother came to sit beside Emily as she poured her a cup of tea. Lady Crompton’s gaze settled on the letters at Clarissa’s elbow, a frown on her face as she noticed the discarded envelope from the invitation.
Clarissa knew instinctively that there was no use concealing it any longer. Her mother would merely root it out anyway. She pulled it from her side and handed it over. Emily’s eager eyes tried to read it while it was upside down under her nose, but she was not quick enough.
