A Great and Terrible Beauty - Page 88/116

"Of course, my dear. But don't be too long about it."

When he's gone, I reach out for Pippa's hands. "Please don't," she says. Tears pool in her violet eyes. I can't think of anything to say.

"He seems quite distinguished," Ann offers after a moment of silence.

Pippa gives a short, sharp laugh. "Yes. Nothing like a wealthy barrister to wipe away Father's gambling debts and save us from ruin. I'm nothing more than a marker, really." She doesn't say it bitterly. That's what hurts. She's accepted her fate without fighting it.

Behind her, Bartleby Bumble, Esquire, is anxiously waiting for his future bride. "I've got to go," Pippa says with all the enthusiasm of a woman meeting her executioner.

"Her ring is lovely," Ann says, after a moment. Above the crowd, we can hear Mrs. Nightwing offering her loud congratulations and others chiming in.

"Yes. Very lovely," I agree. We're both trying to put a good face on it. Neither of us wants to admit the enraging hopelessness of the situationor the guilt at not having drawn that short straw ourselves. Not yet, at least. I can only hope that when my time comes, I'm not foisted off on the first man who dazzles my family.

Felicity breezes by. She's got a handkerchief in her hand that she's twisting into a messy lump.

"What is the matter? You look as if the world has ended."

"Pippa is engaged to Mr. Bumble," I explain.

"What? Oh, poor Pip," she says, shaking her head.

"Has your father come?" I ask, hoping for happier news.

"Not yet. Forgive me, but I'm far too nervous to wait around here. I'm going to stay out in the garden till he comes. Are you certain I look presentable?"

"For the last time, yes," I say, rolling my eyes.

Felicity is so anxious she doesn't come back with a snappy reply. Instead, she nods gratefully and, looking as if she might be unable to hold her breakfast a moment longer, dashes off toward the lawn.

"Well, if it isn't the lady Doyle."

With a great flourish and an exaggerated bow, Tom announces his arrival. Grandmama is beside him in her best black crepe mourning clothes. "Is Father here? Did he come?" I'm nervously craning my neck, searching for him.

"Yes," Tom starts. "Gemma"

"Well, where is he?"

"Hello, Gemma."

At first I don't see Father. But there he is, hidden away behind Tom, a ghost in his ill-fitting black suit. There are deep circles under his eyes. Grandmama takes his arm in an effort to hide how badly he shakes. I'm sure she's given him only a touch of his usual dose to get him through, with a promise of more after. It's all I can do not to cry.

I'm ashamed for my friends to see him this way.

And I'm ashamed of being ashamed.

"Hello, Father," I manage, kissing his hollow cheeks.

"Did anyone know we'd be seeing a queen today?" he jokes. The laugh makes him cough hard and Tom has to hold him steady. I can't look at Ann.

"They're serving tea in the ballroom," I say, steering them upstairs to a quiet, out-of-the-way table, away from the crowd and the gossips. Once we're seated, I introduce Ann.

"Charming to see you again, Miss Bradshaw," Tom says. Ann blushes.

"And where is your family today?" my grandmother asks, looking around for someone more interesting to talk to than the two of us. She would have to ask that question, and it will have to be answered, and then we'll all sit in awkward silence or my grandmother will say something unkind under the guise of being kind.

"They're abroad," I lie.

Happily, Ann doesn't try to correct me. I think she's grateful not to have to explain that she's an orphan and endure everyone's polite, silent pity. Sudden interest overtakes my grandmother, who, I'm sure, is wondering at this very moment whether Ann's relatives are rich or titled or both.

"How very exciting. Where are they traveling?"

"Switzerland," I say, just as Ann barks out, "Austria."

"Austria and Switzerland," I say. "It's an extensive trip."

"Austria," my father starts. "There's a rather funny joke about Austrians" He trails off, his fingers shaking.

"Yes, Father?" "Hmmm?"

"You were saying something about the Austrians," I remind him.

He knits his brows together. "Was I?"

There's a lump in my throat that will not go away. I offer the sugar bowl to Tom. Ann is watching his every move with fascination, though he's hardly noticed her.