Page 75 of To Break the Rules

“Good afternoon, Lady Cavendish!” they all chorused, like a gaggle of unruly children, before exclaiming and squealing, and running to shower the new arrival with rice and congratulations.

“Don’t fall over this time,” Ruth called out to Bonnie, who’d almost broken her neck—not to mention her behind—the last time rice had been scattered about Ruth’s opulent home.

Too late, Bonnie shrieked, and it was only Harriet’s fast reactions that kept her upright, though only momentarily. Matilda covered her mouth with her hand as the two young women sank slowly and inelegantly to the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she murmured with a sigh, trying hard not to laugh.

It was an effort she abandoned as she caught Aashini’s eye.

Matilda held her arms out to her and Aashini ran forward, hugging her tightly.

“Oh, how good it is to see you,” Matilda said, beaming at her friend. “And how wonderful you look! My, but you are glowing. Married life agrees with you, I think?”

“It does,” Aashini replied, grinning and blushing. “Silas is….” She blushed harder and then laughed. “He’s rather wonderful, actually.”

“Lucky girl,” Matilda said with a sigh, before looking around. Shrieks of laughter could be heard as Harriet and Bonnie tried to get up, only to go over again as the combination of polished wood floor and rice conspired against them. “I think perhaps a grown up is required.”

“Do you know where we can find one?” Aashini asked, smirking a little.

“No idea.”

Once order had been restored and the ladies settled with tea and cakes, Matilda tapped her teaspoon on the side of her cup. She glanced over at Aashini, recognising the anxiety in her eyes and returning a reassuring smile. Matilda knew these women, knew and loved them as though they were her own sisters. They would not let them down.

***

Aashini swallowed, setting down her cup as it rattled in the saucer. The sound of Matilda’s teaspoon chiming against the fine porcelain made her heart leap, but she would not back down now. These women had been her friends for the past months, she had to trust them.

“Ladies,” Matilda said, smiling at the gathering. “We are here, in part, to congratulate our dear friend on her recent marriage.”

Aashini flushed a little as everyone turned and grinned at her. Prue, who had recently become the Duchess of Bedwin, sent her a saucy wink before reaching for another cake.

“That, however, is not the only reason. Our dear Lucia has a remarkable story to tell you.” She turned and smiled, and Aashini licked her lips, knowing that was her cue.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” she said, before amending. “My friends. I think I ought to begin by telling you… my name is not Lucia de Feria.”

***

12th August 1814. Cavendish House, The Strand, London

“What if no one comes? The season is over. Everyone who’s anyone has gone to the country.”

Dharani sighed and looked up, levelling a look at Aashini that suggested she stop wittering. “With the amount of gossip flying about this past week, Fred tells me the place will burst at the seams as everyone comes to gawp at the new Lady Cavendish.”

Aashini frowned as her stomach tied itself in a knot. “I’m not sure that’s making me feel better.”

When the Peculiar Ladies had suggested it, a ball had seemed the very thing. A grand celebration of her marriage to Silas, a belated twenty-first birthday ball, and the first time the ton would see Aashini, not Lucia de Feria, take her place among them as her father had intended.

Aashini smiled as she remembered the appalled silence that had filled the room when she’d finished her tale, right up until Bonnie had thrown her arms around her and kissed her cheek.

“Can I meet your grandmother?” she’d demanded in the next breath. “She sounds like someone I need to know.”

Aashini had quailed a little at that. She didn’t think Bonnie needed the least encouragement towards plain speaking, but it was touched all the same. After that, everyone was talking at once. There hadn’t been one of them who had looked at her askance or made her feel she no longer belonged. It made sense, of course, now she thought about it. That had been the purpose of the Peculiar Ladies, after all: a safe place for all of those who didn’t have the perfect combination of beauty, wealth, breeding, and flawless reputation. They all had experiences or circumstances which set them apart, and which brought them together, too.

Matilda had grinned at her then as the cacophony only grew, a smug I told you so expression in her eyes that Aashini didn’t begrudge her one bit.

“Keep still.”

Aashini was brought back to the present by Dharani’s admonishment. She looked up to see her grandmother holding a small dish of vermillion powder called sindoor which she was applying to the parting in her hair. Once done, Dharani set the powder aside and reached for the alta. This was a red paint also made from vermillion, used to cover the tips of her fingers and soles of her feet, and her toes. Aashini bit her lip, trying not to squirm as Dharani applied the paint with a soft brush. It was cold and it tickled. It was the Bengali tradition for a bride to apply paint in this manner during the days of celebration following her wedding, and Aashini was embracing her traditions today.