John pursed his lips, “Good, good. Everyone is in great spirits.” He would tolerate her to her face; open hostility was out of the question due to how long she would most likely be around. How he could end up with such a disappointment of a son was beyond him, he should have arranged a marriage when his son was young. By the time John decided Violet should be Abraham’s wife, Adam was adamant about Phoebe and Bram.
Taking a few more steps into the room, he stopped in front of Marion and pushed a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Jo, darling. Your hair is a mess, fix it before our guests arrive.”
Marion squeezed Phoebe’s hand harder, and nodded her head in reply. She felt like such a disappointment to him and bowed her head, “Yes, father. Thank you.” She sensed today wasn’t going to be a good day, but she was lucky Phoebe was here because her father was going easy on her. She looked up at Phoebe and smiled, more than happy to have an anchor.
“Now, Mari,” she says dotingly, “I think you’re looking rather lovelier than usual today.”
And that was bold, outright disagreeing with him. Especially in his own house. But soon, she’d be the lording lady here. Marion would be treated better, then. Phoebe lets go of her hand only to reach for the hairbrush on her vanity. “Sit, my dove,” she murmurs, urging Marion down onto the plush stool. Looking back up at John, she gives him a forced smile. “Thank you, Mr. Stearne, for throwing us this lovely engagement celebration.”
Phoebe undoes Marion’s braid, and begins to brush her beautiful dark hair. She was envious of it, but Bram had taught her to love her blonde mane. Like his lioness. “It is most gracious of you, my lord.” Her own home was only as big as the dining room in this sprawling mansion. Being a sub-family of the Hopkins didn’t provide her much wealth.










