The Little Wren

The First Chapter

So here it is. Enjoy!

“Orange doesn’t fit you, dar-ling!” trilled Lillibetta. I sometimes think she should be an opera singer, you know.

I looked at the mirror. “Actually, it seems alright, Aunt...”

She snatched the gown out of my hands. “No, it simply won’t do at all!” Then, another dress was thrust into my hands, this time a garish yellow-green.

I cast down the gown in a huff. “Why are we even looking for a new gown, Aunt?” I grumbled. “Surely there isn’t another ball coming up?”

Lillibetta shook her head. “No. But has your mother not told you?”

I looked up at her. “What?”

Her eyes opened wide. “She hasn’t told you? Oh! I am sorry! She's overseas, isn't she?”

However whimsical and empty-headed my aunt may seem on first sight, she is actually a vicious, bald-faced liar.

“Second... season?” I spluttered. “But I barely survived the first!”

“Oh, you’ll do fine!” she assured. “Dear Vivian will be there to make sure you cope!”

Vivian Wagnor, a vindictive, coquettish girl exactly like her mother. I was doomed.

Sighing, I picked up the gown I had previously cast to the floor and pulled it over my head. Looking hesitantly into the mirror, I half-screamed and attempted to scratch it off my body. The poufy sleeves and loose bodice looked appalling on a slim-waisted creature like me.

Lillibetta caught my hands and stepped back, her head tilted at a curious angle. She nodded approvingly. “It looks amazing on you, my dear.”

Just then, the doorbell rang. I thanked God and excused myself, hastily rushing towards the door and thrusting it open. “Hello!”

Apparently, God didn’t want to be thanked, for Andrew Wynter, my brother’s best friend, stood in front of me.

***

He stared at my dress while I stood there, reddening like a steadily-ripening tomato. Then, he tipped his hat, grinning. “I’m looking for Quinn. Is he out?”

“Yes,” I said breathlessly, feeling like I’d just run a mile.

Andrew lifted an eyebrow. He had the lazy, casual stance of a man approaching his prime. In fact, he was three years older than my twenty-seven years (at which I was no longer considered prime stock).

I then realised I had been staring at him like I was a starving dog, and he a buffet. A flush started spreading to my face. “Would you... come in and wait for him, then?” I said, curtseying awkwardly.

He nodded and favoured me with another brilliant smile that almost knocked me over. “I’m sorry to impose, Lady Mercer,”he apologised with a tilt of the head.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I mean, to have you here is wonderful! I mean...” I trailed off, realising that I was babbling, as was my habit. “Anyway, just come in and make yourself at home.” Then I recalled another thing he had said. “Haven’t I told you before to call me Wren?”

I’ve always told him that, but he never listens. He’s never listened for the past twelve years I’ve known him.

“Yes, you have told me before.” He bowed, answering in his usual non-committal way. Just then, I heard the pitter-patter of feet on the stairwell and internally cursed my bad luck. I had taken too long - Aunt Lillibetta was coming down.

“Dear me!” she cried. “It’s Lord Waverly!” She bent her knees in a carefully practised curtsey. “Why, I was just talking to my dar-ling Vivian the other day - about you!”

I was bombarded with exclamation marks as Lillibetta took Andrew firmly by the arm and led him into the living room, still chattering on; “She says you have the most wonderful eyes!”

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, his “most wonderful eyes” crinkling up with humour. “And might I add that I think your daughter makes a most stunning debutante?”

“Your praise is welcome indeed, my lord!” she cried. “I am looking forward to introduce her to you! She is most excited! Is that not so,  dar-ling Ren-Kaye?”

I followed them, face sullen. “Yes, most excited indeed.”

Andrew gave me an amused look, as if he knew what I was thinking (as if!), and reached over, pulling me towards the two of them and thereby very effectively introducing me to the conversation.

“Are you excited about your second season?” he said, his hand still on my arm, where it was sending tingles up my spine.

I should have said “Oh, yes, indeed!” but I don’t know what came over me. Instead, I said, “Not really. It’s bound to be an utter fiasco again.”  

He arched one of his magnificently curved eyebrows. “I don’t remember it as being a fiasco. Surely it wasn’t as bad as that?”

I sighed. “It was worse. Don’t you remember that no one asked me for a dance?”

“I asked you to dance,” Andrew pointed out.

“Well, you only asked me ‘cause I was your best friend’s sister,” I returned.

He stared at me with a strange look in his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

That look made me uneasy, like ants were invading my body. “Well, I... ah...”

We had forgotten all about Aunt Lillibetta. My aunt is not someone who likes to be ignored, like... Like a sack of flour or something. At the pause in conversation between Andrew and I, she immediately leapt in. “Vivian always said you were a pretty little thing, didn’t she?”

A pretty little thing. The only time Vivian had said that about me was when she had been trying to convince Hugh Finchley to take me on a date. (Hugh had red spots all over his face the last time I saw him, when I was eleven.)  

“Vivian and Ren are such good friends, you know!” Aunt meandered on. “They play together every time Viv comes to visit!”

Playtime that always resulted in half of my hair being torn out, and my dolls being claimed by her.

“The conversation soon turned to flattering Viv with meaningless words.

The second chapter will be coming out soon.