. 。・゜・✫ I. MATTER OF INHERITANCE ✫・゜・。.
" i have to look my best. "

Elizabeth Lafferty had a dirty little secret.

She loved reading Lady Whistledown.

Her mother scorned her for dabbling in the publication, which covered all aspects of Ton gossip, but Bex couldn't help herself. On those days when Lady Whistledown published, Bex found herself curled up in the parlor room, consuming every word that the gossip-monger wrote. It allowed her some much-needed escape from the chaotic environment that was the Lafferty family home.

This afternoon, Bex found herself in exactly that position, reading the latest installment of Lady Whistledown as her younger siblings loudly argued over something trivial. Their mother and maids attempted to console them, to little resolve.

Bex ignored the girls, as she often did. She was twelve when the older of the two was born, so there was quite a bit of disconnect between them. She'd gotten used to life as an only child, and quite frankly, she hadn't changed a bit after her sisters were born.

Felicity, who was now ten, was chasing Eden, eight, with a feather she had picked up outside. Eden was scared of birds, and Felicity used it to her advantage as she tormented the youngest Lafferty.

"Girls!" Bex's mother, Rosina, stood in front of the fireplace, her hands planted firmly on her hips. "This behavior is unacceptable. To your rooms, now."

Bex lifted her eyes momentarily from Lady Whistledown, watching as the girls marched from the parlor, Eden having erupted into tears. The girls' maids ran after them.

A smirk befell her face as she watched her mother settle down into a chair, grabbing a fan off of the side table as she began to fan her face. "I swear, those two will be the death of me."

"Will Father be joining us this evening?" Bex asked, folding the pamphlet and setting it on a nearby table. The elder Laffertys, namely Bex and her parents, were to attend a ball held by one of their neighbors that evening.

Frederick, Bex's father, had been ill for some time, and his worsening condition meant that he didn't attend as many events as he used to.

"If he's up for it," Rosina replied, a frown filling her face.

The mother and daughter shared a worrying glance before Rosina stood, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt.

"Well, I think I will go check on him," she said, before retreating from the room.

Bex sat alone, mulling over the unspoken seriousness of the evening. The courting season was about to begin, and while Bex had been "out" in societal terms for a few seasons, she'd never seriously considered marrying any of the young, eligible men that came her way. She'd marry, eventually, and as the eldest daughter of a baron, she knew she'd marry well. She had plenty of time to do that, though ... or so she had, before her father had gotten sick.

The doctors said Fred didn't have much longer than a year, and with the way his estate was managed, when he passed, the Lafferty family home would go to some distant cousin that none of them had ever met. Unless, of course, Bex, or one of Fred's other daughters, married. Then the estate, and Fred's title as Baron Vaughan, would go to one of their husbands.

Seeing as Felicity and Eden were ten and eight, respectively, the responsibility fell solely on Bex.

The neighbors' ball was one in a long line of events Bex would be attending this season in an attempt to find a suitable husband. The challenge was daunting. Many men knew of the estate inheritance. A long line of younger brothers, who would inherit no title from their own father, would be clawing their way towards Bex, attempting to woo her in any way imaginable.

Part of her was still holding on to some hope that she'd actually fall in love with someone, and he with her, so she could marry for love, as her parents had. But, the likelihood of that happening was slim.

Bex sat in the parlor alone for a few more minutes, and when it was clear her mother wouldn't be returning, she folded away her copy of Lady Whistledown and headed upstairs, for her father's quarters.

She knocked on the door lightly, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.

"Come in," Fred's gravelly voice called through the door.

Bex opened the door slowly. She always had to mentally prepare to see her father, as it was becoming more and more difficult to see him in his fragile state.

"Ahh, Bex! Come in, come in," Fred said, a smile filling his face.

He was seated in his bed, a scattering of papers around him. He worked from his bed more often than his desk those days.

"How are you feeling today?" Bex asked, taking a seat at a chair near his bed.

"Better," Fred said, though she could tell by the tiredness in his eyes and pallor of his face that he was lying. "In fact, I think I'm feeling well enough to accompany you and your mother to the Harrisons' ball tonight."

A smile quickly flashed on Bex's face, before being replaced with a look of concern. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Of course," Fred said, waving his hand dismissively. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Even though his health was deteriorating, and he was no longer the strong, lively man Bex had known her whole life, there was still a characteristic twinkle in the baron's eyes, one that appeared every time he interacted with one of his daughters.

"I suppose your mother has ordered you both new gowns for this evening," Fred said, his eyes focused on the paper in his hands. "Ahh, I see here, a receipt from Madame Delacroix. Oh indeed, she has ordered you some new clothes. Enough for the whole season."

"Well, it's an important season," Bex replied. "I have to look my best."

"Indeed you do," Fred said with a smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. It looked forced, and it was overshadowed by a look of worry. "I really am sorry, Bex. I ... I wish we had more time to figure this out. I thought we would. It rests uneasily on my conscience that all of this pressure falls on you."

Bex shrugged and looked down at her dress, playing with a loose thread. "I'd rather the pressure fall on me than for all of us to get kicked to the street when you ..." she trailed off, her voice catching. "Well, when the time comes."

"Well, we'll have fun tonight nonetheless," Fred said, reaching over to gently squeeze her arm. "First ball of the season, and the Harrisons always know how to have a good time."

Bex nodded, tears suddenly coming to her eyes. She stood abruptly to prevent her father from seeing them. "I should start getting ready."

"Right. I'd better get back to balancing our accounts, if I'm to join you tonight," Fred said, smiling.

Bex forced a smile before turning away, running down the hallway as tears spilled down her cheeks. It was becoming harder and harder to visit her father. He didn't often talk about his sickness. In fact, he often pretended like everything was fine. This was becoming increasingly difficult, however, as his health deteriorated, along with his physical appearance. He couldn't pretend everything was fine, not when his cheeks were hollow and his eyes sunken. His skin was so pale, Bex could practically see each blood vessel in his face. His voice wavered when he spoke, as if it took too much energy to force out a single sentence. He could scarcely make it down the stairs without help, and if he did manage to make it, his breaths remained ragged for the good part of an hour, as if he'd just ran across London and back.

It was hard to see him in such a deteriorated state, though she knew, now more than ever, that she needed to spend as much time with him as possible, before he was gone.

She headed for her own quarters, where her lady's maid, Claire, had already laid out her dress for the evening. It was a pretty blue thing, with lace and flowers and ribbons.

Claire helped Bex into her many layers, before Bex settled into a chair so Claire could do her hair and makeup. Claire tamed Bex's wild blonde curls into a stylish updo, pinning a fake flower on the side of her head that matched the ones on her dress.

Next, she layered Bex in gemstones, borrowed jewels from her mother's collection, pieces of which had been inherited from Rosina's mother, her mother before her, and so on.

Claire topped off Bex's look with a simple golden tiara, one that her maternal grandmother had worn when she was courting Bex's grandfather.

"You look beautiful, Mademoiselle," Claire said in her thick French accent. "There will be many lucky young men tonight, no? Getting to dance with our Miss Elizabeth."

Bex laughed nervously, reaching for one of her bouncing curls. "Well, I don't know if I'd consider them lucky, if they have to dance with me."

Claire laughed to herself and shook her head. "You are too modest, Miss Elizabeth," she said, lightly pinching Bex's cheek. "Any of those boys should consider themselves lucky to secure even a moment of your attention."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ author's note ✫・゜・。.

chapter one is in the books! i've actually been doing a lot of writing for this book, but not chronologically. this is great for future me, but not so great for current me who has been trying to put together some chapters.

i hope you enjoyed this chapter, and let me know what you think! please leave some comments and vote, it would be much appreciated!

xx,
madi