Bewitching The Recluse [BOOK 2 of Price Family Saga]

40. Chapter (The Gathering of Hags)

Lydia Winthrop surveyed her daughter with a disdainful glance, who chose to lower her gaze to the ground rather than confront her mother. 

"Foolish child! I could dissect myself for you, and yet you remain indifferent to your own affairs! Do you wish to be condemned to spinsterhood, Mary? Is that your heart's desire?!" 

Mary knew that engaging in an argument with her mother was futile – when Lydia set her mind to something, she could traverse obstacles with the determination of an unstoppable carriage on cobblestone streets. Although Mary harboured hopes that her mother's pursuits had not yet involved actual carriages and obstacles, but perhaps it was only a matter of time ere she would leave fatalities in the wake of her anger. It had been several years since she had witnessed her mother so agitated and disdainful.

"Your duty was to enter that room, identify the Marquess, and provoke a scandal. What was so challenging about that?!" 

Mary couldn't comprehend her mother's fixation on the Marquess, despite acknowledging him as a remarkably handsome man. Yet, she couldn't fathom him as a potential husband, let alone entertain thoughts about what mysteries lay beneath his reclusive facade. Over the years, she had come to realise that disputing her mother on such matters was an exercise in futility.

"Mother, I implore thee, compose thyself. Princess Augusta Frederica entered the room with other esteemed guests and commanded my departure – I could not contest her wishes, of course." 

Mary opted for a discreet silence regarding Miss Ward and Captain Hayes, recognising that the Princess' desires held a weightier significance than her own mother's severity. 

Lydia abruptly seized her daughter's chin and compelled her to meet her gaze. "This is because," her mother hissed in her face, "you indulged yourself at the banquet, you miscreant, and deny it not, for I witnessed it! Truly disheartening to know that if I were in dire straits, my daughter would prefer sustenance over filial duty!" She then released her with equal suddenness and added, "As if you had not beheld your reflection! Plump sow! Who would willingly take thee as a spouse?! Repulsive oaf!" 

Mary quivered beneath the onslaught of insults but endeavoured to rein in the emotion that surged in her throat, attempting to persevere through the tears in her eyes. She possessed her imperfections, yet she did not perceive herself in as harsh a light as her mother sought to portray. 

"Mother—" she commenced, but Lydia cut her off. 

"Hush and remove thyself from my sight! My guests shall arrive presently."

Her daughter made no attempt to converse further but swiftly withdrew. 

What an insufferable girl, Lydia lamented in her thoughts, so utterly incapable! What transgression am I atoning for, that Providence has burdened me with a daughter!

At that moment, her servant announced the arrival of her companions, Percivaline Chatterton and Elinor Merryweather. Lydia donned a false smile and a glint in her eyes, concealing her inner agitation from those social parasites. After all, nothing was irretrievably lost.

"My esteemed friends!" Lydia warmly greeted them. "I am delighted that we have once again managed to reconcile. Pray, take a seat. What may I offer you? I confess, I have a great inclination for a glass of red wine."

Percy and Elinor exchanged swift glances, with Percy stating, "Dear Lydia, truly? Wine before luncheon? Do you perchance have cause for celebration?"

Lydia maintained her smile, detecting the sarcasm in her friend's tone. 

"The cause for celebration will present itself once she triumphs in the wager," Elinor spoke on her behalf, seating herself on the settee and grinning, "I failed to observe your courtship of Marquess St. Arcey at the ball – do you mean to surrender already?"