In the Land of the Long White Cloud Read Online Free PDF Page B

books. Her father always paid without question, only occasionally mumbling something about “sowing wild oats,” but Gwyneira was well aware that the money was coming out of her dowry.
    Despite all this, she did not worry much about her future. For the present, things were going well, and at some point, her imperturbable mother would scare up a husband for her too. Already her parents’ invitations to dine consisted almost solely of married friends who just happened to have marriageable sons. Sometimes they brought the young men with them, but more often the parents would come alone, and even more often the mothers would come to tea alone. Gwyneira hated that ritual in particular, because then all of the talents that girlssupposedly needed to maintain a noble household’s preeminence came under scrutiny. It was expected that Gwyneira would serve the tea artfully, though she had once unfortunately scalded Lady Bronsworth. And she had been shocked during this difficult transaction to hear her mother announce that Gwyneira had made the tea biscuits herself—a big fat lie.
    After tea, they reached for their embroidery tambours. Lady Silkham often snuck Gwyneira her own, on which a work of art in petit point was almost finished, while they discussed the latest book by Mr. Bulwer-Lytton. Those books were like a sedative to Gwyneira; she had yet to make it through even one of those tomes. She nevertheless knew a few terms like “edifying” and “sublime power of expression,” which one could make use of again and again in this context. Beyond that, the women naturally discussed Gwyneira’s sisters and their wonderful husbands, at which point her mother would express her hope that Gwyneira too would soon be blessed with a similarly good match. Gwyneira didn’t know herself if she hoped for that. She found her brothers-in-law boring, and Diana’s husband was almost old enough to be her father. There was a rumor that that was why the couple had yet to be blessed with children, though the connection wasn’t entirely clear to Gwyneira. True, one did stop using old studs too… She giggled when she pictured Diana’s stiff husband Jeffrey with Cesar the ram, which her father had just removed from stud duty against his will.
    And then there was Larissa’s husband, Julius. Although he came from one of the best noble families, he was dreadfully colorless. Gwyneira remembered how her father had furtively murmured something about “incest” after their first meeting. At least Julius and Larissa already had a son, but he looked like a ghost. No, those were not the sorts of men Gwyneira dreamed of. Were the offerings overseas any better? This Gerald Warden made a lively impression, though he was too old for her, of course. But he knew his way around a horse, and he hadn’t offered to help her into the saddle. Did women in New Zealand ride like men without reprimand? Gwyneira caught herself dreaming from time to time over the servants’ novellas. What might it really be like to racehorses with one of those dashing American cowboys? To watch him in a pistol duel, heart pounding? And the pioneer women over there in the West even reached for guns themselves! Gwyneira would have chosen a fort surrounded by Indians to Diana’s rose garden any day.
    She finally forced herself into her corset, which she tied more tightly than the old thing she wore when riding. She hated this torture, but when she looked at herself in the mirror she did like her extremely thin waist. Neither of her sisters was as petite as she was. And her sky-blue velvet dress suited her quite brilliantly. It made her eyes look more radiant and emphasized the luminous red of her hair. What a shame that she had to pin it up. And how troublesome for the maid, who stood waiting nearby with comb and barrettes. Gwyneira’s hair was naturally curly; when there was moisture in the air—as there almost always was in Wales—it frizzed and proved especially difficult to