The Lady Who Sinned

VI. The Runaway

Once upon a Town...

Tommy said she changed ever since she came to Madam Pearson's.

'Of course, I did not.'

'You make friends with those twins. They're insufferable.'

'No, Tommy. They're just ignorant.'

That night, she wondered if Tommy was right. Had she changed?

*****

One could have heard a feather land on the carpet of the drawing room. Even the servants who served them were careful not to make a sound as Cressida and Belinda stared at each other.

This was the first she had to face someone she truly knew since her return. Dealing with McKenzie Haverston, Belinda could say, was far better than facing Cressida. The woman knew her too well. She had seen Belinda in her best gowns, in her radiance when they debuted. Cressida was there when Belinda was first presented to the ton and witnessed how she enthralled every man in the room.

The things she had said to Cressida rang back to her in soft, mocking tunes. Oh, how it had been fun then, to find someone who was a match to her wit.

Cressida was the first to break her silence. Sipping her tea, she gracefully smiled across from Belinda. There was no mockery in the way she stared, but as always, Cressida was filled with pride, a thing they shared in common. "You never changed, Belinda."

She cocked a brow. "Do not lie, Cressida. We both know I look hideous."

"Well, of course, you do. What I meant is your... haughty air." Cressida put down her tea. "I must admit, I quite missed it. The ballrooms have been quite a bore without you."

Belinda smiled. Cressida had always evoked such a unique mixture of vile and amusement in her. The lady had always been too carefree, acting freely without truly gaining the ire of society. She was not even punished for dripping pond water on this very estate when they were young.

Cressida had been in the Herald too many times before, but no one truly hated her as much as they were amused by her. She had been a walking scandal, yet she survived the disapproval of the Town.

And her strong will to fight back, to protect Mary Featherton, the outcast of polite society, had always confused Belinda. What was there in Mary Featherton that Cressida could not find in the other ladies?

Belinda had to admit that the spark of anger in Cressida's eyes whenever they battled in ballrooms or the corridors of Madam Pearson's had always been an amusement. It always felt like a reward whenever the woman would fight back, when she would spare Belinda her precious time.

But things were different now. The years had changed them, she thought. There was nothing left but a bitter feeling of envy. And Belinda hated it. She hated feeling it, because it meant she was lacking. She had nothing, while Cressida had... Cressida had this. A husband and a child.

A home.

She shook the thoughts that ate at her and sustained the little pride she had left, reminding herself that some were born lucky to be hated and loved all the same, while others were merely hated.

"Is that why you're here?" she asked, gesturing toward the window. "Here in Easton because the ballrooms are a bore?"

"Oh, no, of course not. I'm here because Peyton shall not grow up surrounded by the damaging opinions of polite society. She shall have to face many of them in the future, of course." Cressida waved her hand dismissively. "And Peyton loves the pond."