Wrapped Read Online Free Page B

elsewhere.
    “And yours?” Julia asked me.
    “Napping inside, perhaps,” I said.
    Father abhorred the practice of hiring chaperones to arrange matches and generally keep girls like Julia and me in check. But Mother—and custom—dictated I have one. Father managed to persuade her that his ancient aunt Rachel would be just the person. Aunt Rachel wouldn’t do much to secure a match, but she also hadn’t gotten in the way of my studies. Mother had worried that a less vivacious chaperone might place me at some disadvantage, but Father teased that his money and title were enough to draw interest.
    I just hadn’t counted on them drawing interest so quickly.
    “Lucky,” Julia said, shaking her head lightly. “Oh, Agnes, I envy you.”
    “Well, she’s still a chaperone,” I said. “I’m supposed to drag her around with me during the day. And by God she moves slowly.”
    “It isn’t only that your chaperone is so easy to evade,” Julia interrupted. “You belong here. I feel utterly out of place in all this.” She cast her eyes on her own new dress—a perfectly nice frock of pink silk—and waved her glass of sherry toward the crowd.
    “I assure you I don’t fit at all,” I said. “And you look ravishing, by the way.”
    She smiled. “As ravishing as I can when I weigh a stone under what I ought. Mother swears she’ll have me eating nothing but honey and goose fat if I don’t have my court dress filled out by next week’s fitting.”
    “She’s mad,” I said. “You’re perfect.”
    “I’m far from that, but I’ll do fine. Still, I’m glad you’ll be clearing off so soon. The rest of us will have a hard time finding husbands until the men are all convinced you’re spoken for.”
    “Really, Julia—”
    “Stop being modest. It merely adds to your already lengthy list of things I wish I were.” She shook her head gently, the smile on her face shifting a little.
    “I feel about as natural here as a pig in church.”
    “Well it doesn’t show. And I’ve never seen so many men staring at a pig.” She nodded to the guests.
    I was having difficulty breathing.
    “At least there’s one eligible young man who doesn’t fancy you,” she added, nodding toward the mummy, where Rupert presided over the extraction of a small figurine from the body, something looking like actual flesh now peeking from the wrappings at the feet.
    “Quite right about that,” I said. “Though I can’t imagine anyone fancying him .” I huddled close to Julia to share Rupert’s latest misadventure, one involving a goat and a statue in Covent Garden. “Did you hear—,” I began, but stopped when I saw her expression.
    She was looking at me wide-eyed, expectant, but more than that, a little caught out. “Oh,” was all I managed.
    Julia nodded, this time her cheeks growing pink. “Mother’s convinced he’s a good match for me. Lady Perkins is working toward it already.”
    “Oh,” I repeated. Julia was a lovely girl. Smart and genuine and kind.
    Everything Rupert wasn’t. I couldn’t make myself imagine them together.
    But I knew the rules, and imagination rarely entered into things. Julia’s father was a successful merchant and manufacturer, and though they had money, they had no title. Father had lands and a title and a seat in the House of Lords, all making Rupert something of the best-case scenario for someone like Julia.
    “He’s a decent sort of man,” she said, though I could tell she was fishing for reassurance.
    I hesitated. “He is,” I said carefully. “Mother always says he possesses enough of my father’s good attributes to make her hopeful. She seems to think he needs only the right sort of woman to refine those qualities.”
    Mrs. Perkins appeared suddenly at our sides. “Miss Wilkins, always stealing the show, aren’t we?”
    “I’ve done nothing like,” I said to the woman, whose husband’s death had left her with just enough to be independent, but not enough to live in