"Miss Harris, why do I gather the impression that you're not entirely with us today?"
I started, shifting my attention to the brunette across from me. "I'm sorry . . ."
"I was just saying that, perhaps your plans are best left alone for another year. You're quite young, Miss Harris."
"Call me Brynlyn, Mrs. Albrite. Or Bryn."
Laura Albrite smiled back at me. "Brynlyn. Interesting . . . Is it a family name?"
I ducked my head, trying not to laugh. "No. It's Welsh. Roughly translated in means 'beautiful' or 'hill.' And, Mrs. Albrite? I do prefer Bryn."
"Very well, Bryn." The woman set down her delicate teacup. While I had managed to mangle the front of my dress with cake crumbs, she remained spotless. "It's not so much a question of sponsorship, but a debut is very trying, for all involved. My concern lays in whether or not you could handle the strain."
"From what I understand, it's quite a simple affair." I took another sip of tea and tried not to grimace. Why could women of standing never make their own tea? "A curtsy before the queen, a few parties, a dinner or two. Hardly strenuous on my part."
Laura sniffed. "That's more or less accurate, but it is unbelievably difficult. Can you exist without sleep, Bryn, and look fresh as a daisy in the morning? Attend lessons day and night to perfect your etiquette? Learn all the dances, and use every single one of them with different men all night? You may be asked to. And it's hard on a sponsor's part too. I have to throw the right parties, invite the right people."
"You've done it before." She didn't need reminding, but I reminded her anyways. "You gave Mae Titus her debut last year, and she was hardly a month older than I."
Laura stiffened. Maybe bringing up Mae's disastrous debut was not the wisest choice.
"I would do better than Mae did. I would never disgrace us in that way. I would do my lessons, I promise."
"Mae promised as well." She raised an eyebrow. "You're a curious creature, Brynlyn. Why do you want this so badly? You could wait another year; your beauty would not fade in that time, and there would be just as many eligible bachelors . . . Why now?"
I couldn't possibly tell her that my true love, the literal other half of my soul, would be in London. She wouldn't understand. I didn't understand, but still, the note had come late last month.
Be in London. I need to see you.
-R
I had known, from that second, that I would be in London one way or another. And, since I didn't need a scandal hovering at my feet like a lost puppy, a season was the best way to be there.
"My mother, God protect her soul, stipulated in her will that if I do not have a season by my seventeenth birthday, I cannot come into my inheritance. As soon as I make my debut, I am entitled to quite a large sum of money." This, of course, was the lie I had worked up. It sounded reasonable, I thought.
"Oh. Well, that changes things . . ." Laura was silent a moment. "I guess it would hurt no one . . . Consider yourself sponsored, Ms. Harris. Your lessons start tomorrow."
"Thank you, Mrs. Albrite. You will not regret your choice, I promise."
Having been excused, I stood and left the room. My stays were badly cutting into my sides, and I couldn't wait to be released from them.
The carriage was called, and I was handed up. The footman that did the job was a tall boy and looked about seventeen, if I'd had my guess. He had light hair and a freckled, laughing face.
"Have a good trip, Miss." He said, giving me his hand to improve my balance as I ascended.
I settled myself in the seat.
I'm coming Raziel, I thought, I'm coming to save you.
