Estelle, largely buoyed by her progress this Season, with her commitment to being married as soon as possible, the mild success of her personal transformation and society’s new encouraging thought of her (and thinking always of new ways to keep Mr. Maxime’s attention, too), was preoccupied enough to have been largely ignoring her sisters lately. Neither of them were married yet either, and Estelle was starting to think they might be the anchors dragging her down, rather than the other way around. At any rate, she had renewed vigour for the race – she might be married first, after all. It did not sound so unlikely as it once had.
So, when she swanned into the drawing room, it was to a curled-up-in-the-window-seat Victoire, which was a rather less victorious seeming pose than usual, frankly. And Torie was talking about the weather, which meant she must have nothing at all else to brag about. “Merlin, things must be dire in your world,” Estelle remarked, fluffing out her own skirts (another brighter, softer dress than she had previously been accustomed to) as she sat, too, “if that’s the best you can do for conversation.”
She was not much used to Torie being the dour one between them.
So, when she swanned into the drawing room, it was to a curled-up-in-the-window-seat Victoire, which was a rather less victorious seeming pose than usual, frankly. And Torie was talking about the weather, which meant she must have nothing at all else to brag about. “Merlin, things must be dire in your world,” Estelle remarked, fluffing out her own skirts (another brighter, softer dress than she had previously been accustomed to) as she sat, too, “if that’s the best you can do for conversation.”
She was not much used to Torie being the dour one between them.
