Mistress of My Fate Read Online Free PDF Page B

violence of their conversation rattling, but after Lord Stavourley’s acknowledgement of me, I grew less frightened. I lingered nearer to his study, I listened more intently to the discussions, and though I failed to understand a word of what they spoke, eventually found myself enchanted by their vigorous tone and the passion of their convictions.
    Little did I know that the gentlemen to whom I curtseyed and who stopped to pat my head were some of the greatest orators of their day, Charles James Fox, Edmund Burke and Richard Brinsley Sheridan, whose life was later to intersect with mine under less pleasant circumstances.
    But in spite of the fascination that my uncle’s life inspired in me, I was still a young girl and desired the company of my own sex more than anything. For years, I watched with a tug of sadness as Lady Catherine disappeared into her mother’s apartments. Before the door was shut fast, I would often glimpse a scene in which I longed to be included: a flurry of pastel silks and giggling lady visitors, the smell of tea and the clatter of silver upon china. On the rare occasion when I was permittedentrance, it was seen as an act of benevolence. Too frightened to breathe, I would take my seat silently and fold my hands upon my lap.
    “Who is the quiet little thing?” I once overheard one matron whisper to a younger, beribboned guest.
    “Lady Stavourley’s niece,” she replied, before mouthing the word “orphan.”
    Then Lady Stavourley’s accomplished young protégée would play a piece upon her fortepiano or chirp out a song to the delight of all present. The guests applauded and cooed, and exclaimed over her pretty golden curls and creamy complexion. She had the voice of a nightingale and, when aiming to please, possessed the charm of an angel.
    In truth, reader, there was no one whom I adored more than my cousin. In spite of her cruelties and inconsistencies, I was utterly devoted to her. She seemed to me to radiate with feminine perfection, with all of the qualities I most admired. She stood half a head taller than me, her back as straight as the strings of a bow. Her chin was held upward, her toes turned out, and when she strode into a room, she did so with the grace and presence of a dancer. Even as she wavered upon the threshold of womanhood, she possessed a confidence well beyond her innocent years and conversed easily with her mother’s companions. I, on the other hand, barely knew how to open my mouth.
    In short, I lived in awe of her, for she represented to me everything I wished I might be, but knew, owing to my circumstances, to be an impossibility.
    One would think that two girls who were reared in the same nursery, who laid their heads upon the same pillows, would have shared a mutual affection. Here lies the great injustice: although I loved her with all my heart, she hardly saw fit to speak to me. My cousin was entirely indifferent.
    I would have done anything to secure her notice, to have some acknowledgement of my fondness for her. I followed her about like a page boy. If she lost her cap or dropped a toy, I would retrieve it andreturn it to her with eagerness. She would say nothing, before abandoning me for the comforts of her mamma’s rooms.
    I would bring her posies of wildflowers, carefully tied in my own ribbons.
    “See what your dutiful cousin has brought to you,” would comment our governess.
    Lady Catherine would grimace and lay the bundle aside to rot.
    I brought her an elegant violet-winged butterfly, which I had cradled in my hand, but she screamed and slapped me for frightening her with the creature.
    I did all that was required of me. I was good, so very good. I performed every task with a smile; I applied myself to my studies; I rarely complained; I never shouted. I had no desires but to be obedient, to be modest, to be virtuous, clean and honest. I possessed no wishes of my own but to please Lady Catherine, and to be a dutiful niece to my uncle and aunt. For this