The Wayward Debutante
1 July, 1818"You've always been so good, Eleanor," Beatrice Summerson said appreciatively as her eighteen-year-old sister entered the sunny drawing room bearing a silver tea tray. "Between Ben and Helen and me it's a mystery how you ended up so well behaved. Father thinks of you as an absolute miracle."
"Oh, I don't know…I'm not so good," Eleanor replied as she laid the tray on a side table. She began organizing its contents without looking at her sister.
Beatrice cocked her head, her eyes slightly worried. "Now, now, you mustn't protest. You're perfect, and you couldn't be a more agreeable guest. Charles and I are grateful to have you."
"I hope so," Eleanor said uncertainly. "Would you like a slice of cake, Beazie?"
Beatrice smiled, her concerns momentarily allayed by the prospect. "Well…I am eating for two at the moment."
Eleanor cut a very large slice, and brought it to her sister, who patted the spot next to her on the yellow damask sofa. "Do have a seat, Eleanor. I've been wanting to talk to you."
Slowly, Eleanor sat. "Oh?"
"Well…I've been feeling rather guilty. I know it might seem that Charles and I are terribly busy and d ... read full excerpt from The Wayward Debutante ebook
