Chapter 16
That day, my frustration knew no bounds. I sat on the sofa seething, my hands gripping either end of that delicate white cane. My right leg pressed firmly against its center as I attempted to snap the wretched thing in two.
Cecilia sat beside me, her gaze distant as though lost in some profound reflection.
Our quiet, or rather, my not-so-quiet, moment was interrupted by a voice, cool and composed. "I hear you are allergic to my perfume."
Startled, my head snapped up, my anger momentarily forgotten, replaced by a wave of confusion. "Pardon?" I blurted. When had she entered the room? Not a clue. The door must have opened, but I had been too consumed by my war with the cane to notice.
Millicent's lips curved into a knowing smile that made my stomach twist, not in that pleasant way people write about in novels. No, this was a "you have been caught" kind of twist. She reached up and touched her ear, drawing attention to the small red earrings dangling from her lobes. "Red earrings, and a mole on the right earlobe. You must be referring to me."
The room seemed to grow colder as she spoke.
Cecilia, Laura, and I were positively flabbergasted as the woman standing before us matched the utterly ludicrous description I had conjured in my moment of panic. Oh yes, Laura was present that day too. The three of us exchanged glances. My eyes darted over Millicent's features. Her sharp bone structure and aristocratic air made it obvious she was cut from the same cloth as the Grand Duchess. The resemblance was striking, really. Except the Grand Duchess had green eyes.
However, despite my impressive skills in deduction, I was utterly clueless as to who Millicent actually was. If only I had known then what chaos this red-eyed woman would eventually bring into my life.
Millicent moved toward me with the kind of grace that could make a swan envious. She stopped just far enough away to establish some unspoken air of superiority. "Florence Lorynthall," she said. "Permit me to present myself. I am Millicent Vaneeri, the Duchess of Ivoryspire."
I recovered from the initial shock admirably. I began to rise from the sofa, determined to greet her properly, though my loathing for etiquette was bubbling. I leaned on my cane for support but fate decided it had had enough of my dignity. With a sharp crack, the delicate cane that was a victim of my earlier attempts to snap it in half, finally gave up the ghost.
What followed can only be described as a graceless descent to the floor. I stumbled forward and landed with an unceremonious thud. "Damn it! Fucking hell!" I cursed before I could stop myself. Cecilia had to help me back to the sofa.
And Millicent? Oh, she was enjoying herself far too much. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips as she regarded me. I could feel the heat of my humiliation creeping up my neck.
Forcing myself to regain composure, because heaven forbid I let Millicent Vaneeri witness me flounder further, I straightened up on the sofa, smoothing my dress.
Millicent took a step closer, her red eyes fixed on me with unnerving precision. "I trust you are feeling better?"
I slid to the farthest edge of the sofa. Might as well play into my fabricated allergy. "The doctor advised," I said, injecting just the right amount of sternness into my tone, "that I keep a safe distance from your perfume."
"Is that so?" she said lightly then her gaze shifted to Cecilia and Laura, who stood awkwardly in the corner. "Might I trouble you both to grant Florence and me a moment of privacy? I should like to have a word with her."
The very idea of being left alone with Millicent sent a jolt of panic through me. "I require Cecilia's assistance," I said quickly, gesturing to the broken cane on the floor. "As you can see, my cane is no longer functional, and I may need her support."
Millicent's smile didn't falter. In fact, it seemed to widen. "There is no need for you to stand during our conversation, Florence," she replied smoothly. "You may remain seated."
Oh, how I loathed her composure. She wielded her words like a fencer with a blade. The banter between us became a delicate battle of wills, my simmering irritation meeting her calm. How dare she be this composed while I struggled to keep my temper in check?
I could see Laura mentally lighting a candle for my soul as she glanced between Millicent and me. Cecilia hesitated, clearly torn between obeying Millicent and defying her for my sake. Alas, both of them soon relented under the weight of Millicent's unspoken authority, offering weak curtsies before exiting the room.