Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“You did not tell him about what happened with Lord Finch?” Seraphina whispered fiercely, leaning across the sofa.
“Effie, that is not something you can hide,” Leonora added immediately. “You should tell him. He is your husband.”
“Shh!” Euphemia hissed, frantically cutting them off with a sharp wave of her hand. She darted a panicked glance toward the far corner of the grand drawing room. “Now is not the time. Cordelia and Georgianna are right over there. They will hear you!”
“But what if he finds out from someone else?” Seraphina pushed on.
“Who would tell him?” Euphemia whispered. “We’re the only ones that know. I only told you both and Emily. It stays between is.”
Seraphina shook her head. “Well, don’t you think he should know what happened with Lord Finch —”
“Stop talking, Seraphina,” Euphemia snapped under her breath, her eyes widening in warning.
Her sisters had arrived earlier that morning, their carriage announcement throwing the household into a brief flurry of excitement.
Euphemia had informed the twins of their arrival, and they had been excited all morning.
They sat in the drawing room, the sunlight and the scent of fresh lilies filling the room.
The tension of the whispered conversation broke when Cordelia suddenly stood up from her small stool. The young girl walked straight over to Leonora, stopping right in front of her. She tilted her chin up, staring Leonora squarely in the face.
“Is it true that you used to be very quiet when you were a child, Lady Leonora?” Cordelia asked plainly.
Leonora’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Who exactly told you that?”
“Her Grace,” Cordelia replied with a proud nod, referencing Euphemia.
Leonora shot a quick look at Euphemia before offering the girl a wry, gentle smile. “Well, that was a very long time ago, my dear. I am not nearly as introverted now.”
Euphemia couldn’t help but let out a soft scoff, a playful smile breaking through her lingering anxiety. “You are still entirely an introvert, Leo. You shouldn’t try to deceive the poor child.”
“I am nothing of the sort anymore!” Leonora argued defensively, straightening her posture. “I have made a few friends in the Mayfair this past season, and I even attended two separate tea gatherings without hiding in the conservatory. I am practically a social butterfly.”
“Attending a gathering and actually speaking to the guests are two entirely different matters,” Euphemia teased.
“How would you know? You’ve been here,” Leonora retorted.
“I know you like the back of my hand,” she answered.
“Well, making one or two friends is a monumental achievement for me, I’ll have you know,” Leonora muttered, though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
“There is absolutely no harm in it,” Euphemia laughed softly, shaking her head. “But a butterfly you are not, dearest. You are still our quiet Leo.”
Leonora crossed her arms, trying to look stern, but the giggles from the two little girls completely ruined her defense. Euphemia watched from the side of the room, a warm sense of relief washing over her as she saw her sister blending into her new life.
Seeking to shift the spotlight away from her own nature, Leonora looked down at Georgianna, who was clutching a small, leather-bound book in her lap. “And what about you, little one? Are you as fond of interrogating guests as your sister, or do you prefer the company of your pages?”
Georgianna looked up, her eyes wide as she offered a shy smile. “I like stories. Especially the ones with the knights and the hidden castles.”
Seraphina, who had been shifting uncomfortably on her seat, tried to lean forward to engage.
She shifted her posture awkwardly, clearing her throat loudly.
“Ah! Knights! Yes, well... I suppose knights are rather... pointy, aren’t they?
With the swords and the big, heavy clanking metal suits?
Do you practice sword fighting with your dolls, then? ”
Cordelia and Georgianna both blinked at her in utter bewilderment. Seraphina’s smile strained, her shoulders freezing in absolute awkwardness as she realized her attempt at children’s banter had missed the mark entirely. She looked helplessly at Euphemia, clearly out of her depth.
“You don’t like stories about knights, Seraphina,” Euphemia noted. “You don’t like those kinds of books.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I just wanted to contribute.”
Leonora smiled. “Ignore Seraphina, darling. Tell me, is that The History of Sandford and Merton you have there, or perhaps something far more adventurous?”
“It is The Governess, or The Little Female Academy,” Cordelia answered proudly for her sister, stepping closer to Leonora’s knee. “Papa gave it to us. But Georgianna thinks the fairy tale inside about Giant Barbarico is much better than the actual lessons about being a good lady.”
“A giant?” Seraphina chimed in again. “Well, giants are much better than grammar. If I encountered Giant Barbarico, I should simply... hide under the nearest rug. Do you think a giant could find you under a rug?”
Cordelia giggled at the ridiculous image, the tension breaking completely. “No! A giant would step on the rug and squish you like a bug, Lady Seraphina!”
“Oh. Well, that is a very excellent point,” Seraphina murmured, her shoulders dropping a fraction, almost as if she realized the children didn’t mind her awkwardness as long as it was amusing. “Perhaps a wardrobe would be safer, then.”
“We read the story of Prince Fregio too,” Georgianna added, her shyness melting away as she opened the book to show Leonora the pages. “He was changed into a stag because he was too cruel.”
“Ah, a very fitting punishment for a cruel prince,” Leonora noted, scanning the passage.
“Though, if I recall the text correctly, the author argues that true virtue can only be restored once he learns absolute obedience to his elders. I always found that particular moral to be rather heavy-handed. Surely a prince should learn kindness through understanding his people, not merely by bowing blindly to authority.”
“But he had to obey the good fairy,” Cordelia argued, her hands flying to her waist in a perfect imitation of her governess. “If he didn’t obey the rules, he would have stayed a deer forever and been hunted by the hounds!”
“A terrible fate,” Seraphina agreed, nodding solemnly to Cordelia. “Though I must side with Leonora on this text. The author insists that young ladies must never speak unless spoken to, yet the fairy herself does nothing but lecture everyone the entire time. It is entirely hypocritical.”
“Exactly,” Leonora agreed, gesturing to the book. “The narrative insists that absolute adherence to rigid rules is the only path to a proper life, completely disregarding the beauty of a natural, questioning mind.”
Euphemia watched as Georgianna’s eyes widened, a spark of curiosity lighting up her usually docile features as she hung on Leonora’s every word. The little girl looked down at the open page, tracing the edge of the paper with a small finger before looking back up.
“But Prince Fregio was very miserable when he was a stag,” Georgianna offered softly, her voice small but clear enough to draw everyone’s immediate attention.
Euphemia blinked in genuine surprise, her heart missing a beat. It was rare for Georgianna to volunteer an opinion so readily, let alone speak it aloud to anyone outside her immediate family.
“He was miserable because he had to live in the woods and flee from the hunters,” Georgianna continued, gaining a bit of confidence as she saw them listening.
“If he did not learn to obey the good fairy and do exactly what she commanded, he never would have become a prince again. Sometimes... sometimes the rules keep you safe from the hounds.”
Leonora tilted her head, her expression softening.
“That is a very wise observation, Lady Georgianna. The forest is indeed a dangerous place for a prince who refuses to listen. But tell me, do you think he truly learned to be a good ruler simply because he was afraid of the hounds, or did he just learn how to hide his true feelings to avoid being hunted?”
Cordelia furrowed her brow, shifting her stance to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her sister. “He learned to be good! The book says his heart was softened by the trials.”
“The text certainly claims so,” Seraphina chimed in, leaning forward.
“But remember, the fairy kept him on a very short leash. If a person is only good because a powerful fairy is watching their every move with a magic wand, can we truly call them virtuous? I should think true goodness comes from choosing the right path when no one is looking at all.”
“But the fairy is always looking,” Cordelia insisted with a nod. “That is the whole point of a fairy academy.”
“And what say you, Georgianna?” Leonora asked gently, keeping her focus on the younger sister. “If you were the stag, would you obey the fairy because you truly believed she was right, or merely because you wished to have your human hands back?”
Georgianna quieted for a moment, her gaze dropping back to the leather-bound volume.
“I think... I think I would obey her because she knew the way out of the woods. When you are small, and everything else is very big and frightening, the rules are like a lantern in the dark. Even if they are strict.”
As the four of them went back and forth, debating the merits of the fairy tale with absolute gravity, Euphemia leaned back against her chair, a soft smile gracing her lips.
She watched them talk, her heart swelling as she realized how beautifully they had hit it off.
Even Seraphina, despite her initial stiffness and awkwardness around the little ones, was now fully invested, leaning in and making slightly exaggerated faces that made Georgianna burst into bright, musical laughter.
They were truly bonding, creating a noisy, cheerful sanctuary right there in the middle of the grand room.