dressing gown; her small, pretty
feet were bare. She appeared ready for bed, not for supper.
“You’d best hurry,” Victoria snapped. “Mr.
Breen is eager to see you, and he looks especially handsome
tonight.’’
“Well, I have a headache and won’t be coming
down to supper.” Juliana went to her dressing table, and, sitting
down, began with quick strokes to brush her hair. “You may give my
regrets to Mr. Breen, Tory. He’ll simply have to wait until the
wedding ceremony in the morning to drool over me.”
Instead of flouncing out in a huff to carry
the message as Juliana expected her to do, Victoria came into the
room. She was studying her cousin’s set, pale face reflected in the
oval dressing table mirror, and she gave her dark head a tiny
shake.
“I don’t understand you, Juliana.”
“I know you don’t.”
“One would think you were the first girl in
the world whose family arranged a marriage for her. Why, Dorinda
St. Clair’s parents did the same thing last summer and even though
she didn’t care two figs for Harold Lovelace, she welcomed the
match. And their wedding was splendid. I never saw anything like
it. But even Harold Lovelace can’t compare to Mr. Breen. Mr. Breen
has more money than half of the best families in St. Louis
combined! And,” she added, wagging a finger at her cousin, “he
doesn’t mind a bit about your brothers’ exploits, Juliana. He did a
complete investigation of your background even before we arrived
here, Papa learned, and merely laughed when he was told of the
scandal. ‘Everyone has skeletons in their closets,’ he told Papa.
‘So long as your niece conducts herself as a lady and presents only
clean linen to the world, I don’t give a damn about those brothers
of hers.’ So you see, you ought to be grateful for this match. No
man in St. Louis would be as broad-minded as that!”
“How admirable,” Juliana bit out between
clenched teeth. She threw the brush down and jumped up to face her
cousin. “Did it never occur to you, Victoria, that I might wish to
choose my own husband—if I want a husband at all! Marriage need not
be the sole goal of womankind. And marriage to a man one doesn’t
like ... or trust ...” She broke off at her cousin’s sneering
expression. “Never mind. I can see that you will never understand,”
she cried.
Victoria grabbed her wrist. “I understand
that you are being most selfish. Papa tried to do what is best for
you—and he feels quite sad that you aren’t happy about it. Can’t
you—for his sake—even
try
to put on a smiling countenance?
This should be a happy time for him. His business dealings with Mr.
Breen will make him a
very
rich man, and at the same time,
he is discharging his responsibility to you in a most beneficial
way—why, you’ll want for nothing! You’ll be the envy of everyone
back home! But you,” she said scathingly, her skin shining dully in
the fading pool of light, “you fail to show him any gratitude for
it! Or for the years that he and Mama have given to raising,
clothing, and feeding you! I think you’re hideous, Juliana! You
don’t deserve John Breen, you don’t deserve this beautiful dress,
and you don’t deserve one whit of pity. I’m glad that we shall be
rid of you after tomorrow and I know that Mama and Papa will be
glad too.”
Juliana’s eyes stung with tears. “You’re
right about one thing, Tory. You will be rid of me after
tomorrow.”
“It can’t come soon enough for me,” her
cousin shot back, ignoring the pain in the other girl’s face.
Victoria turned on her heel and walked to the door. “I’ll give Mr.
Breen your message,” she flung over her shoulder. “No doubt he will
be most displeased.”
Not as displeased as he’s going to
be
, Juliana cried silently as the door slammed behind
Victoria. She covered her face as hot tears flowed down her cheeks.
Victoria’s words had hurt more than she thought possible. So did
the knowledge that her escape would
feet were bare. She appeared ready for bed, not for supper.
“You’d best hurry,” Victoria snapped. “Mr.
Breen is eager to see you, and he looks especially handsome
tonight.’’
“Well, I have a headache and won’t be coming
down to supper.” Juliana went to her dressing table, and, sitting
down, began with quick strokes to brush her hair. “You may give my
regrets to Mr. Breen, Tory. He’ll simply have to wait until the
wedding ceremony in the morning to drool over me.”
Instead of flouncing out in a huff to carry
the message as Juliana expected her to do, Victoria came into the
room. She was studying her cousin’s set, pale face reflected in the
oval dressing table mirror, and she gave her dark head a tiny
shake.
“I don’t understand you, Juliana.”
“I know you don’t.”
“One would think you were the first girl in
the world whose family arranged a marriage for her. Why, Dorinda
St. Clair’s parents did the same thing last summer and even though
she didn’t care two figs for Harold Lovelace, she welcomed the
match. And their wedding was splendid. I never saw anything like
it. But even Harold Lovelace can’t compare to Mr. Breen. Mr. Breen
has more money than half of the best families in St. Louis
combined! And,” she added, wagging a finger at her cousin, “he
doesn’t mind a bit about your brothers’ exploits, Juliana. He did a
complete investigation of your background even before we arrived
here, Papa learned, and merely laughed when he was told of the
scandal. ‘Everyone has skeletons in their closets,’ he told Papa.
‘So long as your niece conducts herself as a lady and presents only
clean linen to the world, I don’t give a damn about those brothers
of hers.’ So you see, you ought to be grateful for this match. No
man in St. Louis would be as broad-minded as that!”
“How admirable,” Juliana bit out between
clenched teeth. She threw the brush down and jumped up to face her
cousin. “Did it never occur to you, Victoria, that I might wish to
choose my own husband—if I want a husband at all! Marriage need not
be the sole goal of womankind. And marriage to a man one doesn’t
like ... or trust ...” She broke off at her cousin’s sneering
expression. “Never mind. I can see that you will never understand,”
she cried.
Victoria grabbed her wrist. “I understand
that you are being most selfish. Papa tried to do what is best for
you—and he feels quite sad that you aren’t happy about it. Can’t
you—for his sake—even
try
to put on a smiling countenance?
This should be a happy time for him. His business dealings with Mr.
Breen will make him a
very
rich man, and at the same time,
he is discharging his responsibility to you in a most beneficial
way—why, you’ll want for nothing! You’ll be the envy of everyone
back home! But you,” she said scathingly, her skin shining dully in
the fading pool of light, “you fail to show him any gratitude for
it! Or for the years that he and Mama have given to raising,
clothing, and feeding you! I think you’re hideous, Juliana! You
don’t deserve John Breen, you don’t deserve this beautiful dress,
and you don’t deserve one whit of pity. I’m glad that we shall be
rid of you after tomorrow and I know that Mama and Papa will be
glad too.”
Juliana’s eyes stung with tears. “You’re
right about one thing, Tory. You will be rid of me after
tomorrow.”
“It can’t come soon enough for me,” her
cousin shot back, ignoring the pain in the other girl’s face.
Victoria turned on her heel and walked to the door. “I’ll give Mr.
Breen your message,” she flung over her shoulder. “No doubt he will
be most displeased.”
Not as displeased as he’s going to
be
, Juliana cried silently as the door slammed behind
Victoria. She covered her face as hot tears flowed down her cheeks.
Victoria’s words had hurt more than she thought possible. So did
the knowledge that her escape would
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