At Your Request (Apart from the Crowd 0.5)(27)
Lucy’s forehead puckered. “Your oddness is exactly why I have yet to acquire a suitable offer of marriage. I have no idea why you have to continue on with your stingy and peculiar attitude when that attitude is ruining my life.”
“You’ve been extended five completely acceptable offers since you made your debut two years ago,” Permilia shot back. “And since you and I barely acknowledge one another when we’re out and about in society, I really don’t understand how you can claim that I’m the one ruining your life. If you ask me, your disenchantment with the gentlemen who’ve cast their attention your way has more to do with your air of displeasure toward life in general, which, in my humble opinion, is a direct result of your unfortunate sense of entitlement and a condescending attit—”
“That will be quite enough, Permilia,” Ida interrupted. “As is so often the case when we’re trying to gently point out some of your more glaring faults, you immediately try to misdirect the conversation by throwing nasty accusations Lucy’s way. She, I must say, has just made a most valid point regarding your position on wealth.”
Ida began fiddling with a diamond bracelet that encircled her gloved wrist. “Possessing abundant wealth is not meant to be a burden, but meant to be fully enjoyed. Surely you must realize that by clinging to your parsimonious ways, while doing absolutely nothing to hide those ways, you’re sabotaging any slight chance you may still have to take within society. You also diminish the chances of attracting the notice of a suitable gentleman, something your father hopes may still happen.”
She released a bit of a breathy sigh. “Your father isn’t growing any younger, Permilia. His hard work will be for naught if you don’t find a worthy gentleman to bring into the family who has the business mentality needed to take over your father’s many endeavors.”
As Ida launched into another lecture, this one regarding the sad state of Permilia’s social ambitions, Permilia shifted against the seat, being careful to maintain her posture as she did so. A second later, her thoughts began to wander, a direct result of having heard the lecture Ida was in the midst of delivering numerous times in the past.
It wasn’t as if she’d intended to land herself on the fringes of society, but in all honesty, she’d never aspired to travel within society in the first place. She’d always believed she’d walk through life at her father’s side, helping him run his many mining ventures and eventually taking over that running in the end, even though she was a woman.
Being a member of the fairer sex had never been an obstacle for her growing up, probably because she’d not been exposed to women much in her youth, her mother having died of a horrible fever when Permilia had been all of two years old. That unfortunate death had left her with only a father to care for her. Since George Griswold had never wanted to leave Permilia in the charge of a nanny or female relative while he’d traveled to grow his investment opportunities, he’d taken her along with him. That had provided Permilia with a vagabond lifestyle, filled with adventures, wonders, and a great deal of dirt, especially when she’d spent time in the mines.
Her schooling had come at the hands of a tutor, not a governess. And, while learning the feminine graces had been woefully neglected, she’d received an education worthy of any man, something she’d always assumed she’d put to good use when she’d be given the honor of managing the family business.
That assumption had come to a rather abrupt end when her father met, and then married, within a remarkably short period of time, the widowed Mrs. Ida Webster, a formidable lady one learned rather quickly not to cross—and a lady who staunchly believed a woman’s place was in the home, not traveling around the country participating in . . . business.
From the moment Ida had exchanged vows with Permilia’s father, Permilia had found herself taken firmly in hand and taken firmly out of the mining world by her new stepmother—a circumstance her father, traitor that he’d apparently turned, heartily approved.
Ida, regrettably, came from a long line of Old New Yorkers, fondly referred to as the Knickerbocker set, and as such, she was accustomed to traveling in the highest society circles. That meant that the mere idea of her acquiring a stepdaughter with no societal interests was not to be tolerated, hence the reason Permilia was introduced to society at the ripe-old age of nineteen.
That introduction had not seen Permilia gliding across the ballroom on the arm of one gentleman after another, but had, instead, seen her banished—and banished rather quickly, at that—to the wallflower section.
Her stepmother had not been pleased with what she proclaimed was a very sad state of affairs and had spent the ensuing years—of which there’d been quite a few—pondering the reason Permilia had not taken within the fashionable set. Ida had come up with a remarkably extensive list to explain Permilia’s deficiencies, including Permilia’s age, her intellect, her height, her unusual red hair, her lack of social graces, and . . . well, the list went on and on.
Since Permilia preferred to maintain a cheerful attitude, at least most of the time, and since contemplating the many deficiencies Ida kept compiling became somewhat depressing after a while, she’d taken to skulking around the edges of ballrooms, far away from her stepmother’s caustic tongue. That skulking had, surprisingly enough, led to a most intriguing opportunity and had provided Permilia with a much-needed distraction as she was forced to attend one society event after another.