Mark of Distinction (Price of Privilege) Read Online Free Page A

stomach tightening, I quietly rose and retreated to my chamber.
    There, I spent hours practicing various greetings before the ornate looking glass. I lacked the social graces my counterparts possessed, for Mama was far more concerned with deflecting William’s temper than overseeing my comportment. Nevertheless, I rarely felt my deficiency. It was easy enough to compensate by imitating others.
    Yet whom could I imitate?
    In my village no young lady of rank graced us with her presence. My only memorable observations of a peered father-and-daughter pair had occurred in the marketplace near Am Meer during my stays with my dearest friend, Elizabeth. A carriage bearing an insignia rumbled between the buildings, causing heads to turn. When the door opened, a dainty, silken foot emerged, followed by a well-dressed young lady and her father. Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow at me, the signature mischievous look that always warned me we were about to get into trouble. Though Mrs. Windham had bid us to hasten our return, as Hannah needed the milled flour, it was a rarity to observe someone arrayed as beautifully as this girl. How could we not remain a little longer?
    The pair was mesmerizing, particularly the girl. Sapphire feathers whirled about her face, accenting piles of jetty ringlets. Her dress, a brilliant bone-colored satin, fell behind her in magnificent folds, reminding me of the heavy tail of a peacock. When a group of cottage children, ten or twelve winters old, shyly offered her violets, her father beamed. Yet I noted how the girl’s eyes narrowed and her smile froze with annoyance.
    “Who is she?” I asked Elizabeth.
    She shook her head, eyeing her in distaste. “Never seen her before. Why do you suppose she’s here?”
    Instead of answering, I studied the girl’s miffed expression, which suddenly transformed. Clinging to her father’s arm, she dimpled and tossed her curls as she bounced on her toes, pointing to Anne Goodman’s stall, where a tatted lace parasol hung. “Oh, Papa, look! Can we buy it? Millicent has one similar, but that one is twice as lovely. Oh, please!”
    Her father in turn preened his moustache, pretending to debate the purchase that he obviously planned to make.
    “Fancy him not seeing through that act,” Elizabeth murmured.
    I watched the girl’s rapturous face as the merchant opened the canopy and showed off her handiwork. Elizabeth frowned, and I knew it was because she’d been secretly saving for the item for months. To cheer her, I gave her a teasing jab with my elbow. “You don’t suppose they’re here to court Henry, do you?”
    Elizabeth’s mouth widened in a genuine smile as her eyes lit with pleasure. “I’d like to see her try.”
    I laughed, envisioning the story that Edward and Henry would carry back to us of how they handled the situation. If anything was stable in this world, it was our foursome.
    Elizabeth’s brow furrowed for a moment before she spoke. “Lady Foxmore is in residence this week. Do you suppose they are here for her ladyship’s matchmaking services?”
    I studied the girl with a newfound respect. “If so, then we might well be looking at a future duchess. It’s not hard to imagine her at a court ball, is it?”
    When Elizabeth made no comment, I turned and found her expression wistful. As I followed the line of her gaze, it wasn’t directed at the parasol. Instead she studied the gentleman as he shook his small purse, looking for the correct coinage for the purchase. He nearly burst with pride as he pressed the coins into Anne Goodman’s hungry palm.
    I understood Elizabeth’s sentiment better than I desired to. Neither one of us would ever know a father’s approval. Trying to mask my own pain, I nudged her as the pair turned toward their carriage. “Come on, let’s go see how much Anne made. Knowing her, I warrant they paid London prices.”
    Elizabeth shook off her trance. “’Tis a mercy, too. Just yesterday I overheard her state she