"Alright, what do you think of this one?" I asked, stepping out from behind the dressing screen. My hands self-consciously flitted down the dress, smoothing it out and tugging at the lace border.
John cocked his head slightly, looking the outfit up and down as he smiled. "You look very pretty."
I groaned, dramatically collapsing beside him on my mattress. He stood immediately, more aware than I of the potential scandal us being on a bed together could cause, despite the fact that him and I had been friends since childhood.
"You have said that about the last three dresses!" I complained, glaring as he turned to look at me once more. "Have you no real opinion?"
But John shrugged. "I thought they all looked quite nice on you."
Sometimes having such a kind best friend was absolutely infuriating. Not quite as infuriating as the bustling of the maids around the room, though, who were trying to act as if they were not eavesdropping on our conversation. While I knew it would be improper for John and I to be alone in a bedroom at our age, they did not have to be so conspicuous.
"I do not see why you are so worried," John admitted, coming to stand behind me as I held different necklaces up in front of the vanity to see which looked best. In childhood, my best friend had been a whole head shorter than me. He was tall and lean now, and I hardly reached his shoulder as he eyed the lace of my collar. "First of all, do you truly think your Mother will allow you to choose your own dress? She is probably having one made for you. Besides, you have known both of them since we were just children. They have seen you at your worst- do you not remember how embarrassing you used to be?"
Despite myself, I smiled as my best friend jokingly shoved his shoulder into mine. Both John and I had been born into poverty. We had become the best of friends- siblings, for all intents and purposes- through a mutual need for survival, and we had worked together to steal and beg in childhood. It was not until I was about seven and he was near five that we had both been adopted into wealthy, noble families.
His ascension into nobility had been far more graceful than my own. He was naturally respectful and soft-spoken. I was far more... bold, I supposed, than what was expected of a proper lady.
"Mother wants this to be my first real introduction into high society," I admitted. My hands were restless, fidgeting first with the frills of the dress and then with my necklace before moving up to pull away a loose strand of hair that was falling into my face from yanking the dress over my head without help.
John's face took on a confused expression. "Meli, you were introduced into society years ago- they held a whole ball for it, remember? I specifically remember that I was not invited."
I laughed- John had not yet been adopted at that point, and we had been separated for many painful weeks after I had come to live with Lord and Lady Baldwin. He had kept it as a running joke that he was not certain I was a member of high society, because he had never witnessed such an introduction. He was one of the rare few to still use my nickname from our time on the streets.
My smile faded, though- there was nothing amusing about my situation. My eyes looked towards the maids in the mirror. They were not too close by. I lowered my voice. "No, John, I mean... I mean a proper introduction. As a... well, as a..."
I could not bring myself to say it. My cheeks warmed, and I sighed, hiding my face in my hands.
It took John several moments to understand the meaning behind my words. He let out a single, disbelieving chuckle before his tone became more serious. "As a debutant? Amelia, you cannot be serious."
I nodded slightly, keeping my face hidden.
"But you are... you!" John argued, and I peeked up just in time to see him waving a hand up and down, gesturing to me in entirety. "Are they really foolish enough to think this will work?"
John's words did not offend me- I knew him almost as well as I knew myself. He was not implying that no man would be willing to wed me- though I thought that may very well be true- but rather than I, myself, would never be agreeable.
"John, you know I have no plans to wed in the near future," I reminded him. "But Thomas' wedding shall be a huge event- you know how well-liked both my brother and his betrothed are- even if Mother was not using it as a way to have me be seen, I must still look decent for introductions to Susanna's relatives. Some are sailing in from as far as France and Spain. I just..."
My voice trailed off as I remembered we were not alone in the room. But John met my eyes, and I could see the understanding in his gaze. He knew me well enough to know.
I just wanted to belong. To look as if I was not the odd one out, for once, among my family.
"You are not yet eighteen, though," John pointed out, graciously moving the topic away from such sensitive territory. "They allowed your sister to wait until then."
At that, I did have to laugh. "They assumed Elizabeth would be easy to marry off. I suppose her attitude towards marriage is what has led them to preparing an early introduction for me. If she is difficult to wed, imagine how horrid they must think it will be to try and find someone to marry me. The one with pale blue eyes that look more gray, and mud-brown hair that can never rival the flawless golden curls of the eldest daughter."
My voice was harder than I meant for it to sound, and my attempt at a joking demeanor fell short. The guilt hit me instantly- I adored my sister, and we spent large portions of our days together. But her flawless beauty and grace and elegance was, indeed, impossible to live up to.
"I do wish you would not speak of yourself like that," John scolded, frowning at me. "You are not-"
As if knowing that I had just spoken of her, the bedroom door suddenly opened, revealing Elizabeth. She was accompanied by Cordelia, Clara, and Susanna- she was far better at being social than I was, and they were all laughing and chatting as they made their way to the second bed in the room.
Elizabeth did not truly like Clara and Cordelia very much, but they lived just next door, and she was polite enough to tolerate them. I was not. I could not stand those girls, and as such, did my very best to avoid them. All they ever seemed to do was talk down about others and gossip.
Cordelia- who was only discernable from her twin because she had taken to wearing her hair entirely pinned up- made a face as she glanced towards my side of the room. "Why must you still share a room with Amelia?" She asked, looking towards Elizabeth. "You are older than her, and the house has more than enough rooms for you to have your own. Her half is just so... childish. It is pathetic, really."
I turned away to hide my glare as I took a deep breath and bid myself to keep quiet. Starting an argument with a member of a neighboring noble-family would do nobody any good.
My sister, to her credit, came to my defense. "It is not so awful! I find her side of the room endearing. Amelia and I have different tastes, but that is alright- so long as we no longer have to share a bed!"
I was grateful that Elizabeth had not mentioned how often I got into her bed with her, anyway. In my earliest days, I had often slept in an abandoned workhouse with many other street-children as we took shelter from the cold, sharing a bed with two or three others. Until I was around the age of thirteen, I had then shared a bed with my sister. I found it very hard to get into the habit of sleeping alone, and would often toss and turn until either I joined her, or she grew tired of my fidgeting and came to join me. I was the reason that we still had to share a room.
It was true, though, that my side was not as mature in appearance as Elizabeth's. Where Elizabeth had gotten rid of her childish toys and belongings years ago, I still had my first hornbook laying across my desk, as well as the Pretty Little Pocketbook stories that had been gifted to me my first Christmas in the family. My doll was still laying on my bed, and the marbles I had won from my brothers in childhood were tucked away in the drawer in my nightstand. It was hard to let go of my sentimental belongings when the first part of my life had been spent with nothing.
Clara jumped in to agree with her sister. "You are a woman now, Elizabeth. It is silly for you to have to share a room with a child."
Despite John's hand resting on my arm in warning, I spun to face them, angry that they would speak of me in such a way. And right in front of me, as well- the nerve of them!
"I am not a child," I seethed. "I am hardly younger than you."
Cordelia shrugged. "Well, you do not act like it! You can hardly sit through Sunday worship without squirming about. You are not ladylike at all. And you still sleep with a doll!"
My fists clenched, but I was not about to step forward in search of a fight. It would only prove her point. "So? I am more sentimental than you. That hardly makes me a child."
At just the most horrid time, a maid came hurrying into the bedroom. I recognized her immediately- Ms. Hadford and I had never gotten on very well. From the moment I had been adopted into this noble family, she had thought that I did not belong. For the most part, her and I did a good job of avoiding each other, but she still took little digs and made sly backhanded comments where she could.
I had never wanted to appear weak by reporting her behavior to my adoptive Father, whom was the Master of the house. And it was too late now, anyway- what was the use after a full decade?
"Miss Amelia," Ms. Hadford said dramatically, curtsying brusquely. She put on much more of a show in an attempt to come across as respectful to me when my parents were present. Now she met my eye, already smiling in amusement at whatever she was going to say to me. "Your governess is calling for you- I am to inform you that you are ten minutes late for your evening bath, and that you are to make haste to the washroom- and to bring a switch along with you."
My glare directed at the maid was useless- Clara and Cordelia were already cackling. I did not turn to them as I stiffly organized my books and straightened out my sheets so they would be presentable when my governess came to check the nursery just after my bath. I was already in enough trouble, it seemed.
"Well, if the doll does not make her a child, that certainly does," One of the twins giggled- I did not turn to see which. Behind me, I heard John scolding the twins- his adoptive sisters, though he had always kept his distance from them- as I fled the room. I heard, as well, Susanna's hissed 'sssshh!' in her efforts to save me a bit of embarrassment. How awful that my future sister-in-law had seen such a display. Even if she was polite enough to never mention it again, she would surely always remember it.
I wiped away tears as I made my way down the hall, grateful that I had made it from the room before they began to fall. In just a few weeks, Susanna would marry my eldest brother, Thomas. It would be my first introduction to society as a lady. But what good would that do if nobody viewed me as such?
Suddenly, I was faced with a predicament that I had worried over from the very beginning. My governess, my parents, my tutors, the other girls- they had all done what they could to turn me into a lady. But now I had reached the end of the line.
If I could not behave as a lady, how would I survive in high society? How was I to move up in the world if everybody simply viewed me as a child- and a rash, impulsive one, at that? Was I to be stuck in the exact same position forever? What would happen to me when my parents passed away, when my siblings all married?
John was to be married soon. Elizabeth, and very soon myself, were to be seen as eligible young ladies. Michael, the youngest son in the family, would surely follow.
As everything shifted around me, I seemed to stay completely the same. I did not care for gossip or idle talk any more than I had in childhood. I did not enjoy long and mundane readings, nor extended Bible study sessions, as so many of the other girls did. I found it hard to sit through an Opera performance, and always laughed just a bit too loudly. As much as I despised Cordelia, I could not deny that she was correct about one thing- I was not much of a lady.
The world around me was changing. What would become of me if I could not change with it?