Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Sorry, sis. I can’t. Jenna’s already expecting me.”
She pursed her lips. Jenna was only seventeen. Why should she attend the gala if Wendy couldn’t? She turned back to her mother. “Are you sure Father didn’t get Michael a ticket?”
“I’m sure. You know Michael. He’s not interested in such things.”
“What’s taking everyone so long?” Her father appeared behind John. “The limousine is waiting.”
Wendy looked away, infuriated by his stubbornness and her tears.
“In a moment, darling.” Her mother moved to the dresser. “Wendy, where’s your diamond tennis bracelet? I want to borrow it.”
Her request was salt in the wound. “Seriously, Mother?”
“Don’t be a sourpuss,” John said, righting his tie in the mirror as he winked at her.
“All of you, get out of my room!” Wendy snapped.
How dare they mock her feelings?
Outside, Nana barked wildly.
“What in God’s name is that dog barking at now?” her father griped, marching to the window to stare through the marbled glass.
“It’s too late for deliveries. Something must be out there, George. It’s likely just a squirrel or a raccoon.”
“It’s the driver. He’s waiting for us by the gate.”
“I’ll be ready in a minute.” Her mother clipped the diamond bracelet around her ivory-gloved wrist and moved to the window seat. “Where did these leaves come from, Wendy? Did you have the windows open?”
“Why would I have the windows open, Mother?”
Her mother checked the latch, and jealousy twisted in Wendy’s stomach as they approached the door. She refused to wish any of them a good night, so she turned her back to the lot of them.
“I just need my stole, George darling, and then I’m ready.”
Her father sighed. “John, tell the driver we’ll be right there.”
They left the nursery without another glance back, and Wendy blinked through the pain of abandonment. Once more, she was forgotten and overlooked.
Deep down, she believed her father did not secure her ticket because he feared she’d embarrass him. He knew she had an unruly side, and he urged her to be more like the refined daughters of his friends. But the longer he held her back, the further she desired to run from his expectations. She wanted to shatter them so he would see, once and for all, that she was her own person.
The click of the front door punctuated their descending footsteps and fading chatter. The house fell into empty silence.
Wendy growled and fell back on her bed. “Ouch.” Plucking a hairpin from her hair, she scowled and then threw it to the nightstand.
Nana continued to bark even after the limo drove away. She went to the window to see what was out there, but the surrounding mansions were dark, the inhabitants most likely on their way to the ball.
With a sigh, she stepped into the shadows and unzipped her gown, letting it fall into a puddle of wilted chiffon. Slipping out of her undergarments, she pulled on a plain white nightgown and unpinned her hair.
Her eyes narrowed on her reflection as childlike ringlets coiled about her cheeks. Her mind and body were not that of a little girl anymore, yet here she was, dressed the same and ready for bed by eight.
Grinding her molars, she shook out her curls until dark waves fell wildly down her shoulders and back. The dark coal around her eyes had smudged from tears, leaving her blue eyes more prominent than usual. She looked dangerous and slightly unhinged. She liked seeing herself that way and wished others could see this side of her, too.
Her mind once again drifted to Peter Pangbourne. “Let’s see what you think of me now, Peter.” She reached for her phone, angling the lens upward as she formed a pout with her lips. She snapped a picture and sent it to him.
Her father misjudged him and she should show him just how much. There was something different about Peter. He might dress in designer clothes like the other men of society, but something untamable lingered beneath his surface.
When she first met him, he smelled of grass and wilderness, not the typical scent of a refined gentleman. And once he started texting her in that forward, flirty way, he confirmed that he had a darker side. That was the only side that interested her.
A loud crash broke the silence, and she jolted upright, bolting to her feet. Nana went berserk on the back lawn, barking wildly as Wendy rushed to the door. Cool air teased her ankles, the draft rushing up the stairs from the foyer.
She snatched her robe from the bedpost and rushed downstairs. A chill raced up her spine as she crept along the banister.
“Liza?”
The maid didn’t answer.
Perhaps she forgot to latch the door. That would explain such a draft, but what was that crash? Wendy tightened the belt of her robe as another chill raced over her skin.
“Michael?” Perhaps her brother had come by. “Is someone there?”