The Beast's Broken Heart (The Bluestocking War) by Eva Devon & Maire Claremont

Author:Eva Devon & Maire Claremont [Devon, Eva & Claremont, Maire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Romance
Publisher: Bard Productions
Published: 2023-04-29T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 11

Without Rose, the silence of their rooms was nigh unbearable. The clock ticked on the mantelpiece above the fire, the only sound, save for the rattle of coaches on their fashionable street.

She longed for her sister, but her sister was gone now and had been for several weeks. The marriage to Clarence seemed to be going well, but much to Hyacinth’s amazement, she felt at such a loss.

Her mother’s machinations continued apace.

Hyacinth wrote fast, her quill scratching over the paper, for she was desperate to put her thoughts down. Desperate to pour out all her pain, all her agony, all her dismay at society, and her hopes too, into this new pamphlet.

She needed to make the world understand. Or at least she hoped to open a door for them to see that things should not remain as they were.

Surely, people could understand.

Surely, people could see that the world needed more than gilded surfaces to navigate the pain and the sorrow that filled places like the East End or in the war happening across the Channel.

Or perhaps she was still far too optimistic.

The gilded ballrooms of London were a sight to behold, there was no question, but they covered something. Something hidden, something deeper. All the suffering and pain of the people about them, even the people within the ton, if one but looked.

Her mother, for instance, was not happy. Her mother was driven by one need: power. Lady Millbank might seem as if she cared about her daughters, wishing to get them good marriages. But in the end, it was truly about their family name, and that gave Hyacinth pause.

As if she had somehow brought her mother out of the shadows with her thoughts, the ivory painted door of her room swung open.

Hyacinth rushed to cover her papers and then realized that would make it seem more suspicious. So she remained in her seat and turned towards her mother.

Lady Millbank stood like a specter in the door, lit by fading afternoon light. Her face was white, her usual beauty gone.

Her mother had been a famed diamond, and she had been most disappointed that none of her daughters lived up to the same title.

But standing there in the rectangle doorway, her mother looked her age for once. Usually, her dark hair coiled and bounced about her face, her lips were usually slightly rouged a beautiful red. Her eyes normally sparkled like jewels, and her lashes were sooted. Her gowns tended to flatter her frame, but tonight she stood in a robe that was tied carelessly, and she looked haggard.

“What have you done?” her mother demanded, her voice low.

“I beg your pardon?” Hyacinth countered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“What have you done?” her mother repeated, her eyes turning hard.

“I have done nothing,” she said swiftly, even as her insides began to tremble and shake.

“Hyacinth,” her mother warned. “You are a terrible liar, and considering the subterfuge you have decided to commit, that is unfortunate.”

She fought a wince. “Mama, what are

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