Clarity by Sydney Jane Baily

Author:Sydney Jane Baily [Baily, Sydney Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B09WQX2HNQ
Publisher: WOLF Publishing
Published: 2022-04-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

“I have gone too far!” Clarity moaned while Purity brushed her hair.

“Why did you push your luck in such a manner?” her sister asked.

“I thought to remind him again of how good life can be.”

“In a tree?” Purity shook her head. “You always knew how to have fun, but you were never reckless, at least not since you donned stays. What has gotten into you?”

Miserable, Clarity felt tears well up.

“I am in love with Alex.”

Purity barely hesitated in brushing before she nodded. “And you’re trying to show him by nearly getting you both killed?”

“Of course not! I simply want him to like me the way he used to.” She broke into wrenching sobs.

“Nonsense,” Purity scolded. “You don’t want him to like you as a boy likes a girl. You want him to love you as a man loves a woman. I admit I find Lord Hollidge a bit stiff, but he’s better than he was a month ago at the first ball. You have done wonders already, and he will see your suitability.”

“I have done nothing,” Clarity said through her tears.

“You have been a good friend to him and reminded him how to laugh. Being around you has awakened his latent sense of fun.”

Clarity dabbed at her face with her handkerchief.

“Do you think so?”

“Yes. Now that he is nearly ready to fall for you, instead of falling on top of the man, why don’t you show him what a fine lady you’ve grown to be?”

“I won’t pretend to be a Mrs. Princum Prancum,” Clarity protested.

“No one would believe it if you did. You don’t have to become like his Aunt Elizabeth, just a little less of a tomboy.”

“You know I never liked that term. I am female through and through.” They used to squabble when children about this same issue. While Clarity was out having her own kind of fun, flying a kite or braiding the horses’ manes, Purity practiced the pianoforte and became adept at painting.

“I know you are, dear sister. And a rum doxy, too,” she said, not using the most acceptable of terms except between sisters. “But perhaps with the fishing and the archery, Lord Hollidge has forgotten what a prime article you are. If you want the man to worship you, you must dazzle him.”

“Dazzle him?” Clarity repeated.

“Dazzle him!” Purity concluded. “Wear your blue silk dress to the dance, and let Mary do your hair in the pink of the fashion with ringlets to spare.”

“But Miss Brambury,” Clarity reminded her, “is the paragon of placid perfection.”

“Pish! She has nothing you do not have.”

Then why had Clarity never felt more inferior in her life?

“Emmeline is a little taller, and she has that tawny-colored hair, currently in fashion, not black as a crow’s wing.”

“I like to think of our hair more as a raven’s wing,” Purity said, touching her locks, “or even rare obsidian.”

“That does sound better than an old crow.” Clarity put her arms around her sister. “Thank you. You should be the eldest.”

“I should be,” Purity agreed, “but no matter our order, never forget, we are Diamonds of the first water.

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