Free The Bride Behind the Curtain by Darcie Wilde Page B

think. Too much had happened in the space of a short hour. James. Aunt Kearsely’s revelation about Mother. Could she possibly have been telling the truth? There was no way to know.
    â€œAdele?” asked Madelene. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
    â€œNo, but it doesn’t matter.” Adele made herself cross to the sofa and sit down. “What is it you wanted to tell us, Helene?”
    Helene and Madelene settled onto leather armchairs on the other side of the coffee table.
    â€œI have been thinking,” Helene said, “about how Almack’s was founded.”
    â€œWhy would you?” asked Adele.
    â€œBecause it is significant,” she answered loftily. “Almack’s used to be just a gambling club. It was not, however, as fashionable as some others, and it was losing business. Then, along came the board of lady patronesses, and all of a sudden, people were clamoring to get in. Seven women, working together, took Almack’s from being a second-rate club to the most exclusive and revered set of rooms in the fashionable world.” She paused and looked at them.
    Madelene twisted her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, Helene, I know I’m very slow, but I don’t understand.”
    â€œI propose we do something similar.”
    â€œYou want us to set up a club?” said Adele.
    â€œNot quite. I suggest we three work together to transform not a club, but ourselves. We take ourselves from wallflowers to triumphs.” Helene leaned forward, her amber eyes shining. “You said it yourself, Adele. You should be in charge. You’ve got everything needed to be a success. You’ve got wit and personality and social standing. Why aren’t you as much of a success as your sister?”
    Because my mother didn’t trust me.
Adele winced, but of course she couldn’t say that out loud. She didn’t really know these two. Not yet.
    â€œIt’s not possible,” Madelene said.
    â€œMadelene’s right,” said Adele hollowly. “Society has made up its mind about us.”
Has sheltered and sabotaged us, has beaten our futures into the shape they believe best . . .
    â€œAnd why is that?”
    â€œBecause I look like a dumpling!” Anger, unreasonable and petty, surged through Adele. What was the matter with this girl? There were things that could not change. Ever. It didn’t matter what one person wanted when the whole world—strangers, family,
everybody
—wanted something different.
    â€œThat shouldn’t matter. You’re a duke’s daughter, and your brother has not only salvaged the title, he’s made the family rich. You should be fighting off every fortune hunter in England, plus new ones from the Continent.”
    â€œIt does matter.” Adele tugged futilely at her ruffled sleeves.
I shouldn’t have come. I’ve got too much to worry about without listening to Helene Fitzgerald’s madness.
“Everybody says so.”
    Triumph sparked in Helene’s eyes. “That’s exactly it. Everybody
says
so. Like they say I’m a shrew and Madelene’s a . . .”
    â€œDisappointment,” said Madelene.
    Helene took her friend’s hand and squeezed it gently. “So, how do we change what they say about us? We get together, and we do it.” She shifted in her chair so she faced Adele squarely. “You said you used to dream of the dances you’d give and the dresses you’d have. Could you actually do it? Could you organize wardrobes for the season? And perhaps even a ball?”
    Adele opened her mouth and closed it again.
No. Of course not.
Except that wasn’t what she said. “I . . . well, I’ve imagined doing so . . .”
    â€œLike you imagined those dresses? With the suppliers and the costs and all of it?”
    â€œWell, yes.” She’d spent enough time sitting near the chaperones