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“Thank you,” Portia whispered. As they neared the partially closed door. Mrs. Darnel took her leave, but not before offering a sympathetic smile.

Portia had always thought it odd that none of her half-siblings ever closed the door completely when discussing delicate matters. It was almost as if they wanted the staff to overhear. Judith and her husband were always pitting one against another, as if it were some form of entertainment.

Portia stood off to the side, so as to not be seen, and listened. She’d never considered herself to be an eavesdropper, but it was the only way she garnered information about Albert, the twins, and now herself. She leaned closer to hear better when one of her half-sisters said her name.

“Portia must go to Town.”

To Town? The last time she’d been to London was with her father when she was but a small girl. Her mind raced, searching for answers as to what this could possibly mean.

“But you cannot expect me to continue to support her. I have done my duty and?—”

“Judith, you are in the ideal position to take her to London,” George argued.

Being their father’s only son, he had always tried to assert his authority, but was of weak character in Portia’s estimation, passing duties off to others for the sake of his own pleasure.

“I have other obligations to see to and?—”

“And my daughter is already in confinement,” Marcia chimed in. “I have delayed my journey and?—”

“You are not the only one who’s been inconvenienced,” Olive, the eldest of the siblings at fifty, announced. “Judith, you are already journeying to Town for Hilarie’s debut into society. One more won’t make a difference.”

Portia heard Judith’s annoyed huff, as was her wont when she was backed into a corner by her elder siblings. She sounded more like a child than a woman of five and forty. “And what, pray tell, am I to do with her once the Season begins?”

Season? A quick, disturbing thought crossed Portia’s mind. Was she to become Hilarie’s lady’s maid? No, surely not. Portia took pride in her own appearance, but knew next to nothing of the latest fashions and hairstyles. It simply wasn’t required for the life she’d been living.

Marcia’s insult drifted into the hall. “She isn’t exactly accomplished.”

It was fortunate that none of her half-siblings realized just how accomplished she was.

Although her dearest papa had died when she was just fifteen, he had ensured her education.

She was well-read, knew how to play the pianoforte—although she preferred the harp—could dance, draw, and paint, not to mention she was fluent in French and Italian.

I’m not accomplished in the least , she chuckled inwardly.

“Marry her off as quickly as possible,” George announced, bringing Portia back to her current woes. “It doesn’t matter to whom, just as long as she’s gone. We’ve all done our duty to Father, and surely honored his last wishes.”

Just as long as she’s gone .

She should be hurt by his words, or at least a little upset, but sadly, she’d endured harsher from them over the years.

While their father had lived, they’d claimed to adore their littlest sister, but that was all a ruse to get what they wanted from their sire.

The only reason they’d taken Portia in was that she had no other relatives, plus they’d made a promise.

Their respect for their sire outweighed their dislike of Portia.

Once Portia was ensconced in Judith’s household, she’d made certain not to cause any trouble and to be as useful as she could.

A flash of loneliness stabbed at her. Although she adored her nephews, she wished she’d had the opportunity to experience life.

There were so many places she’d dreamed of visiting.

Some of her fondest memories had been looking at her father’s map collection and charting routes to far-off places with her childhood friend—Titus—while their fathers had discussed all sorts of topics.

Would she ever experience those desires?

So lost in her own thoughts, she did not hear the door swing open until it was too late.

“I see you’re eavesdropping,” Judith growled. “Well, you might as well come into the drawing room instead of lurking in the shadows. So ill-mannered, and such a burden.” She ended with several tsks.

Portia ignored the insults and followed her half-sister into the warm room where she was met with four scowls and four pairs of dark brown eyes.

Portia had always been thankful that she and her four half-siblings bore no resemblance to one other.

According to Mrs. Johnson—the head housekeeper at her late father’s home—the four older siblings had inherited their looks and frowns from their mother.

Whereas Portia was the feminine version of her father with golden blonde hair and blue eyes.

She often wondered if that added to her half-siblings’ dislike of her.

Once in the dreary room, she kept her distance, waiting for the final judgement to come. A moment later, it was delivered by George.

“You are to journey to London where you will find a husband. You have a dowry of five hundred pounds, which is more than generous.”

Her brother must think her quite a simpleton if he expected her to believe that five hundred pounds was a generous amount.

She may not have been out in Society, but she had read every book in her brother-in-law’s library, was well-versed on how to run a household—courtesy of Mrs. Darnel—and had been into their local village on occasion, where she’d heard enough gossip about the ways of the world to know otherwise.

She also knew it was better to keep her mouth shut as her half-siblings offered their opinions.

First was Olive, who lectured on propriety, followed by Marcia, who instructed her to accept the first offer of marriage to come her way since Portia was so utterly unaccomplished, and an unattractive spinster at seven and twenty.

The insults went on, and through it all, Portia tried to stamp down the panic rising within, by thinking of happier times, but those memories evaded her. All she felt was betrayal and abandonment.

A sentiment from the past whispered, “I will always be your friend, no matter what happens.”

Titus’s tender words had meant the world to her when he’d spoken them twelve years ago, but then, when she’d needed him most, he hadn’t answered her letters.

His words had been an empty promise. Clearly, he had not cared for her the way she’d cared for him.

If only she could let go of those feelings, of the past.

“And I will provide you with two new dresses.” George’s words brought her back to her current woes.

“Thank you,” she managed to mutter.

Once again, her half-siblings underestimated her comprehension of society. Without a doubt, two dresses would never do for a season in Town, and with her paltry dowry, she wasn’t certain what sort of man she’d attract.

She attempted to try not to panic further, and think of the positives, or at least one positive instead.

Since her father’s passing, she’d not had any new dresses, having always been given Judith’s cast-offs.

But as she’d matured into a woman, the already ill-fitting dresses had become even more so.

Mrs. Darnel had taken the time to teach her how to alter her half-sister’s discarded gowns.

She would simply use those skills to refashion a few of her late mother’s dresses.

Hopefully, she would not appear too out of fashion.

She knew that without a proper wardrobe, she would not make a fortuitous match, not that her siblings cared.

They clearly had one shared objective: to be rid of her as soon as possible.

“We depart for London in three weeks’ time,” Judith said as she stared at Portia with a raised brow, indicating she was dismissed.

A throbbing pain settled in Portia’s head as she took her leave.

Trudging back to her room, she tried to think of another option, but truly, there was none.

Never one to sulk, she decided to make the most of those skills and accomplishments she’d acquired.

She would update her wardrobe, pack her few belongings, and never look back.