Society's Expectations & Too Many Complications {Finalist}

Chapter 24

"You can't be serious," I spat at my mother, disbelieving of how stupid she was. "You cannot invite them here."

"I can, and I did," she sniffed, turning away from me, reading the very letter of acceptance that I found astonishing.

"He will come as well," I warned her savagely. "The street rat comes scurrying where his wife does "- best make sure you keep your skirts unsullied."

"I understand that Zachariah Hartley will be attending," Mother remarked carelessly, as if she was talking of a new dress. "But it is not him I wish to see."

"Then you could have gone to her," I almost growled at her. "How difficult would it have been to pay a visit upon her? Do not pain the rest of us on your account!"

"I do not wish to see the little hovel she resides in," she said disdainfully. "Here; are far more proper surroundings."

"Have you told Father?" I asked her, fully planning on informing him that his idiotic wife had invited Mr and Mrs Hartley around for dinner, especially after he had forbidden it.

"He will be made known to it, I am sure." This time her tone was a little unsure, of course Father had not been made party to her wishful dreams of seeing her daughter- at the expense of the family having to endure Zachariah Hartley.

"Oh he will," I said. "This very second sounds very becoming to me."

"If you think you can 'scare' me into telling him right now, you are much mistaken," Mother laughed, staring right back to my defiant face.

"Oh I never presumed you would take the trouble," I replied scathingly, already on my way to take care of it. "U think it will be much more satisfactory if it comes from my lips, don't you think?" Sweeping away from Mother, barely keeping in a fit of rage, I hurried up the stairs to Father's study. Perhaps he could put Mother right.

"Rosalia!" I heard her cry once, before I knocked on Father's oaken door. Too late; I thought. Far too late, Mother.

"Come in," the deep baritone of my father ushered me in. Opening the door firmly, I stood in the frame of the doorway, a very picture of pent up rage, I was sure.

"Mother has invited the Hartleys around for dinner."

What followed after was very swift; and savagely satisfying to myself.

"I forbid you to invite them!" Father shouted. "What ever has got into your mind that you thought this would be alright?!"

"Josephine is our daughter," Mother argued back, though her tone was uncertain.

"Josephine may very well be our daughter, but she took a very different turn in life when she decided she would steal Rosalia's fiancée from her!" Father thundered, pacing up and down angrily.

"She did not decide," I declared, before Mother could defend herself. "Mother made that decision all by herself."

"Lacey?" Father's quiet tone asked a thousand more answers than his anger ever could have. His pacing cut to a halt and he looked towards her, wishing for enlightenment.

"I never liked Mr Hartley!" Mother defended herself. "How could I stand one of my very own daughters marrying such common filth?"

"What did you do?" Father asked her, his voice low and deadly. One wrong step for Mother and she would be blown sky-high.

"I did it for the good of the family name," she asserted herself viciously. "Zachariah Hartley was some little rat, leeching off your goodness. Rosalia should never have even entertained a proposal from him!"