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"I DO NOT THINK I AM BEING UNREASONABLE," Beatrice said the following morning. She dropped her poor excuse of needlepoint to her lap and crossed her arms against her chest with an exaggerated huff. "But must it be so difficult to meet the man?"
"Have you thought that, perhaps, this Mr. Chen is not in search of a wife this season?" Ophelia asked, her eyes flicking over her book to look at Beatrice briefly. The sunlight filtered in through the windows, causing the copperish strands hidden within the brown mop of hair to glisten. "Or he is avoiding you on purpose?"
"He is not avoiding me." Beatrice rolled her eyes. "I do not intend to force his hand. I simply wish to meet him formally. That is all."
"How could he not wish to marry you?" Frederica wondered, twirling a loose golden curl around her finger. She sat facing the window, overlooking the happenings in Grosvenor Square. "If the Queen hadn't declared Daphne as the diamond, you would, without a doubt, have earned the title."
Ophelia mumbled in agreeance.
Elizabeth glanced up from the music sheet at her sisters, causing her to strike the wrong key on the piano. A shrill and unbecoming noise cried out. She winced at the noise and immediately withdrew her hands from the keys. "Sorry!"
Frederica slapped her hands against her ears and Beatrice jumped in her spot, the needlepoint slid down her thighs, hitting the floor with a soft thud.
"Lizzie, you are thinking too much," Ophelia said, her gaze fixed on the pages of her book. "Do not lead the melody, allow it to lead you."
"I fear she is not thinking enough!" Frederica retorted in a rather snarky tone and her hands fell to her lap. Looking at Elizabeth, she said, "I hold nothing but love for you, sister, but I beg you, please stick to the violin."
Ophelia rolled her eyes. "The piano is not so difficult, Lizzie shall catch on soon. If only it were sooner than later for the sake of our sanity."
"Mother wishes I learn piano," Elizabeth reminded in a forced joyous tone, her fingers playing with the sheet music. "She says I ought to master the instrument before the wedding."
With a raised brow, Ophelia reminded, "You are aware, are you not, that once you are married you have no obligation to humour mother's every wish? Is there any harm should you stop now?"
Beatrice nodded.
"I—" Elizabeth faltered open seeing a figure moving in the corner of her eye.
Mary, their lady's maid, shuffled into the drawing room with a piece of parchment clutched tightly in her fingers, beelining towards Ophelia. Upon seeing what Mary held, Ophelia's eyes widened and she dropped her book to her lap.
