Free The Apothecary's Daughter by Julie Klassen

Lilly also excused herself, stepping away from her
aunt and Mrs. Langtry to greet her approaching friend.
    “Christina, there you are. What a lovely gown.”
    “It is nothing to yours, and you know it.”
    “Nonsense.”
    A year older than Lilly, Christina Price-Winters was plump and
well-endowed, and her mauve dress dipped low to reveal more cleavage than Lilly would have felt comfortable exposing even had she
that much to expose. Christina’s face was broad, with prominent eyes
and expressive brows that often rose and fell in dramatic punctuation
during conversation. Her wide mouth was given to smirks and sardonic
one-sided grins.
    “Zee gown eez mag-nee-fee-sawwnt,” Christina said, mimicking
her French dressmaker. “Ew-la-la, eet transforms votre fille, madame.
So svelte. So graceful …” Christina snorted. “She is more skilled
in opening Mother’s purse than in stitching seams that much is
certain.”
    “That explains why your neckline is so low,” Lilly quietly teased.
“Or perhaps Madame Froissant ran out of material?”
    Christina grinned. “This is my current scheme to encourage
Edward to propose. Do you think it will succeed?”
    Lilly glanced at the balding but highborn lord who was staring at
Christina with frank admiration. “I believe it already has.”
    Though not a beauty, Christina’s family, connections, and deep dowry supplied her with a promising number of most eligible suitors.
Far more than Lilly enjoyed.
     
    Christina’s ginger-haired brother, William, walked across the
room toward them. Secretly, Lilly had shared her aunt’s keen disappointment when he had announced his plans to wed last year. He had
been the first man in London to catch her eye and raise her hopes.
She found him amusing and sweet-natured and had briefly believed
he admired her as well. Perhaps he had. But with Will, and the few
suitors that followed, she had quickly learned that she had neither the
rank nor wealth to hold the interest of a gentleman of quality nor
of his parent with the purse strings. Men enjoyed dancing with her
and flirting with her, but in the end went on to marry girls with better
connections and richer dowries.
    Will Price-Winters bowed before her. “Miss Haswell.”
    She curtsied. “Good evening, Mr. Price-Winters. What a fine
ball this is. And where is your lovely new wife?”
    He shrugged. “Some earth-shattering calamity with her hair, I
understand. No doubt she shall be down directly.” He frowned at
something over their heads. “I say, who is that?”
    Christina followed his gaze and rolled her eyes. “Mr. Alban.”
    “Your old tutor?”
    “And recently Lillian’s as well.” Christina hunched over, rubbing
her hands together in imitation of Mr. Alban, parroting his stammering speech. “Miss … Miss Has-s-s-well. Do decline the vairb to be
onc-c-ce more.
    “Christina, please,” Lilly admonished. Christina’s imitation was
spot on, but Lilly did not wish to injure the man’s feelings or reputation.
    “What is he doing here?” William asked.
    Christina shrugged. “He all but begged an invitation, and Mother
hadn’t the heart to refuse him.”
    Mr. Oscar Alban was educated, mild-mannered, and patient. He
was also short, balding, and wore thick spectacles and ill-fitting clothes.
It was little wonder parents trusted him with their daughters.
    Mr. Alban bowed before Christina’s parents, who now stood conversing with Lilly’s aunt and two older couples. “Mr. and Mrs.
Price-Winters. Thank you for your generous-s-s invitation. I cannot
remember when I’ve enjoyed mys-s-self more.”
     
    Mrs. Price-Winters was reserved in her reply. “You are welcome,
Mr. Alban.”
    The tutor turned to those assembled around his host and hostess.
“I had the privilege of instructing Miss Price-Winters s-s-some years
ago. And now Miss Has-s-well also. It as been a rare honor indeed to
teach two s-s-such fine and gifted ladies.”
    “Thank