Tilly knew it was wrong, knew she should try to change her feelings, but she hated her older sister Prudence. The only good thing about Prudence was that she’d married a year and a half ago and her husband, Lord Erwin, had decided she should spend time overseeing charitable works around his country seat. The day Lord Erwin had Prudence carted off to the country was the happiest of Tilly’s life.

No more Prudence being prettier, blonder, less freckled, and better at every task put before her. No more Prudence to sabotage Tilly’s happiness and mock her every decision. No more Prudence at all, except in letters Tilly didn’t read.

Until now. In celebration of Tilly’s coming out, Prudence had returned to London. For a month. Which ought to give her plenty of opportunity to ruin the most important event in Tilly’s life. Not that she hadn’t already. In view of Prudence’s cruel treatment of just about every young lady in London, no one trusted Tilly enough to befriend her.

Midmorning sunlight bathed the small parlor in which Tilly sat with her mother, Prudence and their elderly neighbor, Missus Clarke. While they chatted, Tilly waged an internal battle not to glare at her sister over the top of the tiered dessert platter. Prudence acknowledged her forbearance with smug glances.

Already, with Prudence in the room, Tilly was once more invisible. Their mother lavished attention on Prudence, her better-loved daughter. Tilly could have stood from the stiff settee and walked out of the room without her actions being noted. She could have gotten away with glaring, except that Prudence would turn their mother’s attention Tilly’s way the moment she let her bland expression falter.

“Of course, I would wish to remain longer than a month, except for the attentions of my husband,” Prudence said in a dramatic whisper, just loud enough for Tilly to hear. “We aren’t together often, I know, but when we are, he lavishes me with affection. He quite wears me out.” She arched a delicate eyebrow.

“So, all is well on that front?” their mother asked. “I don’t mean to pry, dear, but I have worried.”

“There’s no need to fret, Mama.” Prudence adopted a haughty look. “I know how to manage a man.”

“Oh, I do worry, too, dear,” Missus Clarke said. “He’s seen so often in the park in the company of that—”

“Ah hem,” Mother cleared her throat, her expression warning as she nodded in Tilly’s direction.

Apparently, Tilly had been remembered just in time to keep her from learning anything of interest.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Missus Clarke said. She smoothed her grey skirts and turned a frown upon Tilly. “I all but forgot you’re here, child. Why don’t you speak up on occasion? How will you ever learn to socialize?”

Tilly set down her teacup, eager for the chance to speak. “In the company of whom? Whose company is Lord Erwin in?”

“Don’t interrupt, Tilly,” Mother snapped.

“Really, Tilly.” Prudence looked down her nose, a talent she’d mastered even though her stature forced her to look up to nearly everyone. “There are three married women here, and you are a not-quite-out miss. In such company, you should only speak when spoken to. I’d hoped to find your manners more improved in the months since my wedding.” She turned to their mother, letting out a sigh. “I’m so sorry for you, Mama, that you must labor against Tilly’s poor manners.”

“She is a chore after you, dear, but she’ll improve with a little sternness.”

“Now, now,” Missus Clarke said, “I think Tilly is quite lovely.”

Tilly glared at her sister and picked up her teacup. Missus Clarke had spoken to her, and she wanted to know who her brother-by-marriage was going about the park with. Someone scandalous, if the white lines around Prudence’s mouth were any indication. She always clenched her smile when she was angry.

“Mama, is this a new tea service?” Prudence asked brightly.

Tilly let her mind wander as the three discussed fine china. She would never admit the fact, but she’d be hard pressed to pick Lord Erwin out of a group of gentlemen. She’d only seen him once, the day of Prudence’s and his wedding. She recalled he wasn’t very tall, or very comely, but his garments seemed expensive. Given how rarely her sister saw him, Tilly wondered if Prudence knew much more about him than she did.

Taking another sip of tea, Tilly let her gaze wander past the three women to the window. The roses that climbed beside the leaded panes bobbed in a gentle breeze, petals bright against the blue sky and dark leaves without. Her gaze went beyond the roses to the garden swing that hung from a looming oak.

Without Prudence there to tease her for being a child, Tilly loved to swing in the warm sun. It was invigorating, how the world rushed past, then back again. She imagined the sensation was like what a gentleman experienced when riding a horse. Though she couldn’t know, for she was made to ride sidesaddle at a walk.

She brought her attention back to the tea setting, thoroughly bored. The three married women had their heads together now, whispering advice on how to keep a man’s attention where it belonged. Try as she might, she could only make out a few words murmured on the other side of the low table.

“I said I have it in hand,” Prudence snapped, her angry tone rising above the whispers.

Mother and Missus Clarke straightened. They exchanged a startled look. Missus Clarke shrugged.

“Of course you do, dear,” Mother said. She helped herself to another sandwich.

“Speaking of a wandering eye.” Missus Clarke reached for a slice of cake. “Your new neighbor, Lord James, has been in London for over a month now. Have you seen him? They say he’s even more handsome than reputed.”

Tilly frowned. How could someone be rumored to be more handsome than they were rumored? She bit her tongue, knowing the reprimand such a question would bring.

Prudence gave a disdainful sniff. “I spoke with him at the theatre last evening. Duke or not, he’s a rake. It’s a pity the old duke hadn’t a proper heir. Now we must all suffer a cad to take the title. Between us, we among the peerage are not overjoyed.”

Tilly took another sip of tea to keep from rolling her eyes. Yes, Prudence was married to a baron and now wore gaudy, jewel spattered gowns, but that did not put her on level with a duke. Tilly was a bit jealous her sister had met Lord James, though. Their London homes shared a garden wall, but she had yet to set eyes on him. Prudence had not only seen him, but had been introduced.

“Was he handsome, though, dear?” Missus Clarke asked.

Prudence shrugged. “If you care for that sort of overdone, devil-may-care look and unfashionably dark attire. My Erwin would never be caught in anything so drab.” Prudence angled her nose farther into the air. “I’ll tell you one thing about him, he was quite rude.”

Tilly sighed. There was another person who’d met Prudence before her. Another who would dislike Tilly by association.

“Tilly, what did I tell you about sighing in company?” her mother snapped.

Tilly blinked. Now she was noticed again? “Not to.”

“That is correct.” Mother offered one of her more formidable frowns. “You can’t make proper conversation. You speak without being spoken to. Now, you have sighed. I think you must excuse yourself and go to your room. It’s time for you to consult your etiquette handbook once more. After Missus Clarke leaves, I shall examine you on it.”

Tilly set down her tea and bounced to her feet in a rustle of rose-colored muslin. Finally, she was excused.

“Oh no, Mama, I know you have more important concerns,” Prudence said. She cast Tilly a vindictive smirk. “I will examine Tilly on her manners.”

Mother smiled at Prudence. “Thank you, dear. It a blessing to have a considerate daughter in the house again.” She turned back to Tilly with a shooing gesture. “Run along now, Tilly.”

“Yes, Mother.” Tilly curtsied to Missus Clarke, who offered a grave nod. Ignoring Prudence’s smug expression, Tilly marched from the parlor.