Free A Debutante's Guide to Rebellion by Kathleen Kimmel

those people that they did no favors by simply raising the floor of the appropriate marriageable age, without lifting the ceiling as well to compensate; it seemed that by the time one was mature enough for matrimony in some eyes, spinsterhood was already waiting to pounce.
    Her mother sighed. “Oh, darling. You know I only want the best for you, don’t you? Come upstairs. We can talk there. And I have something to show you.”
    Eddie followed her mother dutifully up to her room. Her mother crossed to her vanity. A lockbox sat atop it, next to an old silver jewelry box that held her mother’s less expensive baubles. Lady Copeland lifted a key from around her neck and fit it into the lockbox, opening the lid to reveal the Indian diamonds—without their necklace. A few folded sheets of paper were tucked in next to them, and Lady Copeland removed them and spread them out on the vanity. Eddie drew near. Sketches, she saw, of a new necklace. This one was more geometric, bolder, the lines making the diamonds seem somehow commanding.
    â€œYou’ve changed the setting again,” Eddie noted, because it was clear she was supposed to say something. This made the fourth such alteration.
    â€œDiamonds like these require the perfect setting. One that can match their particular qualities. What do you think?”
    Eddie leaned over the sketches. “It would certainly draw the eye,” she said.
    â€œYou don’t think it’s too masculine?”
    â€œPerhaps a little,” Eddie admitted.
    â€œHa! You see. I coax the truth out of you. I utterly agree. These won’t do at all. I’ve sent the man back to the drawing board.” Lady Copeland clasped her hands and sighed. “You were always such a timid child, and I’m afraid you’ve never grown out of it. It takes a hundred questions to get one clear answer from you.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” Eddie said.
    â€œSometimes I wonder if it was my fault. I was always so afraid for you. The whole time I was carrying you, I was sure I’d lose you. And then the birth . . . It was so smooth, I was certain that we must have missed something, that something must have gone wrong. And then you were quiet, even as a baby. Sometimes I’d pinch you, just so you’d startle and I’d know that you were still alive. I lost all your sisters so young.”
    Her sisters. Isabelle, Elizabeth, Prudence, Millicent. All dead before they could walk.
    â€œThey were all so lovely, your sisters,” her mother said, and stroked her hair. She did not have to add
and you are not
. Eddie looked down. The princesses had died, and the little goblin girl had somehow survived. The girl with the crooked nose and large ears, with pimpled skin and large, ungainly feet. “I lost them, but I have you. And I will do right by you, Mildred. I will see you taken care of. I will see you comfortable and safe. Lord Averdale can provide comfort and safety and more. He’s perfect, don’t you see?”
    Eddie blinked away tears. She was disloyal, wanting to marry Lord Averdale only to get away from home. Ungrateful. It was true that her mother had always, always protected her. When she found out her friends were mocking her, her mother had held her close and whispered that it would be all right, that she didn’t need such false friends. They had each other, didn’t they?
    She was harsh, yes. But she could be kind like this. Sweet and doting. And at these times Eddie wondered if it was only her foul temperament that kept her from pleasing her mother. Maybe she
was
stubborn and obstinate, and drove her mother to such harshness of pure necessity. Perhaps Eddie hadn’t tried hard enough. Perhaps there was still a chance for her to change herself in some small way. She would never be a swan, but perhaps she could be not
quite
so much of an ugly duckling. She could manage a goose, at least, surely.
    â€œI know what’s