Elegance and Grace by Soliman Wendy

Author:Soliman, Wendy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby
Published: 2017-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Jemima watched her father depart with a feeling of unmitigated relief, disappointed but not surprised by his priorities. Not once had he shown any particular concern for her welfare. He had failed to realise that she was the one who had been exposed to the raw and shocking truth of Annabel’s ordeal—a sight that would severely affect the sensibilities of the strongest of women. She had thought herself immune to her father’s indifference, but on this occasion it had cut to the quick. The circumstances were so dire that she had foolishly imagined he would put his family first for once, but it was obvious now that nothing had really changed. They said that people showed their true colours in times of crisis, and her father had certainly made his feelings—or lack of them—crystal clear.

Jemima straightened her shoulders and let out a slow breath. The favoured daughter who could wrap their papa around her little finger with her pretty manners and winning smiles was now damaged goods, and Papa would bear his loss with his customary stoicism. It didn’t seem to have occurred to him that he had another daughter whose behaviour was beyond reproach. But, Jemima reflected, one could not force the heart to feel what it did not. Annabel probably reminded Papa of his wife when she had been young. The lady who’d had men worshipping at her feet, and yet when Papa beat the opposition to the prize, he soon came to realise that he was second best in Mama’s eyes. But he had at least been able to bask in Annabel’s popularity and watch her shine. Now that pleasure had been stolen from him by his political enemies. Jemima felt very sorry for a lonely, insular man who didn’t know how to display affection.

Parker appeared to discuss the situation with Lord Torbay in a huddled aside. Olivia excused herself because she was needed in the nursery. Jemima glanced at the one remaining person in the commodious room, acutely aware that she and Lord Glynde were now alone. She was surprised to discover that his gaze was focused upon her, slumbering and considerate. His expression reflected the type of concern she had idealistically hoped to see in her father. Flustered and confused, she looked away, aware that she ought to return to Annabel. She would do so directly, but first she had an apology to make and would never find a better opportunity. Besides, if she didn’t do so now she might lose her nerve. Thus resolved, Jemima wandered through the drawing room doors into a small ante-room, somehow confident that Lord Glynde would follow her there.

‘What are you plotting?’

He moved with the stealth of a cat. She had not realised he was so close behind her and the sound of his deep, arresting voice startled her.

‘I need to apologise,’ she said, the words tumbling out faster than the beat of her racing heart. ‘I…that is, when I first saw Annabel in your rooms I…’ She

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