A Debutante's Guide to Rebellion Read Online Free PDF Page A

better than to get into the middle of such a display.
    â€œYes. And you ought to have refused. Honestly, the only thing worse than not being asked to dance is being asked to dance by someone so . . . so . . .” Lady Copeland was getting red in the face. “So
odd
,” she concluded.
    â€œI rather liked him,” John offered, but Eddie balled her hands into fists and willed him to shut up. He’d only make things worse.
    One thousand and twelve times nine is nine thousand one hundred and eight divided by seven is one thousand, three hundred and—
    â€œYou are a burden on this family,” Lady Copeland was saying. “If your sisters had survived, they would all be married by now, and perhaps one of them would have taken you in, but there’s only John, and he will have the burden of the Copeland name, which is quite enough without you adding to it!”
    The square of three is nine. The square of nine is eighty-one. The square of eighty-one is—
    â€œWill you look at me when I’m talking to you!” Lady Copeland said. Eddie’s head snapped up. Her mother’s nostrils were flared and pale. Not a good sign. She had only truly angered her mother twice in her life. They had not reached that point. Not yet. But it was coming, and there was only one sure defense against it.
    Eddie swooned.
    It was useful to have a reputation for swooning. The key was in doing it on a soft surface, and falling to the side, bowing one’s legs so that it appeared you were falling straight down, but in fact you were lowering yourself gently (but swiftly) into a heap.
    Eddie let out a soft cry and flopped to the right, eyes shut. Her mother shrieked.
    â€œMy poor child!” she cried. “My poor child has fainted!”
    Eddie gritted her teeth and kept her eyes shut. She thought she heard John sigh.
    â€œQuickly, quickly, we must take her to the parlor,” Lady Copeland said.
    Strong arms slid beneath her. Not John, but the butler, Fellowes, a man well familiar with her “fits.” And another witness to her mother’s tirade.
    All the servants in the vicinity would have heard, but it wasn’t anything new. She saw them giving her pitying and scornful looks when they thought she wouldn’t notice. Or maybe it was just that they didn’t care if she did.
    She’d once heard the scullery maid and a footman arguing about whether they’d swap lives with her. The maid came down on the side of soft beds and being waited on hand and foot; the footman preferred his dignity.
    She herself was undecided.
    Fellowes set her down on the chaise longue in the parlor and departed without so much as a whisper of comfort. That she was used to as well; her father chose servants who were like him: disinterested and efficient.
    Her mother flapped about in a state of exaggerated agitation until John said, “You are only going to drive yourself into a faint as well. I’ll look after her, Mother.”
    â€œOh, my sweet boy,” Lady Copeland said, and Eddie heard the sound of her kissing John’s cheek.
    Her footsteps headed toward the door; hesitated. They came back, drawing very close to Eddie, and she forced her breathing to stay steady. Her mother’s hands roved to her neck, and the necklace slithered over her skin. Lady Copeland wouldn’t want to leave her prize behind, after all.
    Only when the door shut did Eddie dare open her eyes. John had folded his hands and was watching her with something akin to resignation.
    â€œA swoon? Aren’t you a bit old for those kinds of tricks?” he asked.
    â€œIf you have a better idea, I’d like to hear it,” Eddie said, straightening up.
    â€œYou could try not provoking her,” he suggested.
    â€œProvoking her? All I did was dance. And you’re the one who suggested it,” she pointed out.
    â€œYes, but then you ran after Lord Averdale like that. What did you think was