Eventually Yours

1 Swiss Chocolate

"Perhaps the blue dress would do better to bring out your eyes."

"The sage is fine, Mama! I'm not changing again."

I stood in the corner of my elder sister's bedroom, watching the argument unfold between my mother and Emily for the dozenth time today. It had long since ceased being amusing and now I fought to refrain from rolling my eyes each time they raised their voices at one another. It had become the only sound that one could count upon in the house. Roosters crow at dawn, the sun rises in the east, and my mother and sister are eternally at each other's throats.

"I think the sage is lovely," I offered, attempting that sisterly support so lacking between Emily and I, but no one heard. They weren't even listening. Frankly, I doubted they were aware of my presence in the room at all.

Maids circled Emily's hem and bust, prodding and pulling to form the perfect feminine shape; a shape that Emily did not have. She frowned and braced herself against the massive Venetian standing mirror in front of her while three servants tugged unrelentingly at the strings of her corset. One of the girls even braced herself with a foot upon Emily's back as she pulled. I bit my lip to keep from snickering at the breath that Emily expelled when they finally had it tied. Unheard or not, my attempt at support had not been in vain.

"There!" our mother exclaimed victoriously as Emily's face practically turned blue in her suffocation. "Beautiful!"

"Mother, honestly, could we not order a new corset from Mademoiselle Francis?" Emily huffed, blowing a strand of hair from her face which her lady's maid, Veronica, hurried to restore.

"No," her mother answered forthwith. "You will wear this one so that you may learn not to partake in so many hors d'oeuvres."

"Mama!"

"I'm only being honest, dear," she answered, not paying any mind to the reddening of her eldest daughter's face, as she focused instead on selecting the finest bits of jewelry to accessorize. "You know how it is. This is your second season. There will be no debut, no buzz about your name or your prospects. You are old hat, trite. The daughter of an Earl who failed to secure a husband in her first season despite her prominent family name and father's title. Do you not recall the humiliation?"

I closed my eyes, hissing in a breath as though I'd felt the sting of the insult myself. I did not need to look to know the anger present on my elder sister's face. This home had not been a pleasant place to live since Emily had joined society and then failed at the one task given to women since birth. She had hardly any suitors at all and it wasn't for lack of trying. We had attended every ball and picnic. Our mother had accosted nearly every available gentleman in London, but none had shown any interest.

It wasn't that Emily was homely. She did not have the fair auburn hair and bright blue eyes of her sister, that was true. Nor did she have the same feminine hourglass shape that I somehow, miraculously, seemed to possess. But her countenance was pleasant enough and she had no noticeable deformities. Emily's issue had always lied within her disposition. She was disagreeable and, at some times, downright sour. She was very picky for a girl with no options and, within her own family, quick to anger and prone to tantrums. It made her rather unpleasant to live with. I had hoped she would be able to maintain her composure long enough to secure a husband before the poor, unfortunate soul realized the future he had signed up for. But she had proven even that too difficult a task when she had lashed out at Sir William Davis last season for his accidental spilling of punch upon her brand new chiffon gown, creating such a scene that the entire family was forced to retire early that evening.

"How could I not recall when you will not let me forget?" Emily finally exploded.

I was just beginning to contemplate my escape when I heard a faint knock at the door and turned to open it, my mother and sister's bickering reaching a boiling point behind me. I smiled at the man who entered. The oldest of us all, my brother Elijah Harrington, entered the bedroom, took one look at the situation unfolding in the midst of it, and raised his eyebrows at his youngest sister beside him. I chuckled quietly as he cleared his throat to get their attention.