Jillian Chantal

This week’s word prompt for the writers of Tuesday Tales is Flower.  I am still working on the Regency novel.

Check out the other tales here. 

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Come along, snail. You’re going to make us late. I don’t want to miss the first dance.”

Honora moved to the door. She knew if she didn’t get there quickly enough, Charlotte would barge in.

Sure enough, before she could reach the door, her sister flung it open, almost catching Honora in the face.

“I was on my way. You don’t have to break the doorjamb. Never fear, your dance card will be filled almost before we’re even announced.”

“You better hope so, or you’ll be the one I blame.” Charlotte turned on her heel and pranced down the corridor. “Don’t dawdle.”

Since there would be no tolerating her sister if she didn’t get her way, Honora followed at a quick pace, almost tripping over the front hem of her gown in the process. She thought it was too long at the time it was altered, but didn’t want to cause a scene and didn’t speak up. Now, it looked like she might regret that choice. What if she fell at the ball and humiliated herself?

Even worse, if she did, Charlotte would hate her more than ever. Not that she really thought Charlotte hated her. That would take too much effort from the girl. More like she tolerated her.

“Why are you insisting on walking so slowly? It’s not like when you were presented to the queen. It’s our own hallway. Come on.” Charlotte stomped down the front staircase.

It was all Honora could do not to laugh. Her sister who wanted to present the appearance of a fine, delicate flower was clomping around like an elephant. What if all those marvelous suitors of hers could see her now?