Glass Slipper Read Free Page A

the morning?”
    At that, a stampede of feet announced the arrival of Delphine and Charlotte at the top of the stairs. Auvrey looked up at their hopeful faces with annoyance, then back to the master of the house. “Truthfully, Henrí? There is much work to be done if I am to present your daughter before the prince, and not nearly enough time to do it.”
    “The prince?” Delphine shrieked. “Henrí, you wicked old man! Why won’t you present us to the prince?”
    “That is for your mother to decide, I have no hand in it,” Joséphine’s father said, patting the air to urge them to silence.
    “Mother will not like this!” Charlotte shouted, her eyes glossing over with tears. “I shall tell her at once!”
    “Perhaps you had better go,” Joséphine’s father said, urging them toward the door and the carriage that awaited outside. There was only time for a brief embrace before her father pushed her rather unceremoniously into the carriage.
    “Goodbye, papa!” she called as he hurried back to the house, likely to intercept her stepmother before she could come out and demand that her daughters be allowed to go, as well, or that Joséphine stay behind. Looking at the sour face on Julien Auvrey as he climbed into the carriage, she could not decide which fate would be worse.
    “Has your father always been this hen-pecked?” He slapped the roof, indicating to the coachman that they should depart, and the whole carriage jerked violently forward, nearly tumbling Joséphine from her seat and into his lap.
    “As far as I remember,” she answered primly, smoothing her skirt.
    But Julien did not appear interested in her reply. He reached forward and took hold of her skirt. Joséphine shrieked and batted his hand away. She’d heard the man was very forward with women, but she had no idea he would be this forward!
    Rolling the fabric between two fingers, he made a noise of disgust. “This will not do at all. Are your other dresses any better?”
    With a cry of outrage, she pulled her skirts away. “How dare you! I make do with what I can—”
    “You make do with what your stepmother sees fit to give you, which isn’t much.” He shook his head. “Your father should have…”
    “Should have what?” she prompted angrily when he let his admonishment die on his lips. “You did not have to do this, but you chose to. There is little point in complaining now, when you could not find it in yourself to simply decline a thoroughly unreasonable request!”
    Julien leaned back as much as the coach walls would allow, and pulled one ankle to rest on the opposite knee. For the first time, Joséphine noticed how finely his clothes were made. A row of silver buckles shone on his soft leather boots. His breeches were well-cut, and his coat was so deep a blue that he must have paid the dyers enough to keep their families for a year. No wonder he complained about her thinning muslin dress with its faded pattern. If he saw the patched condition of her stockings, or the worn-through soles of her shoes-- but why on earth would he have occasion to see her stockings? She decided very quickly that her earlier carnal curiosity was entirely unwarranted. Julien Auvrey was a terribly vain man, too concerned with riches and fashion and not at all the kind of man she would ever want to—
    “He should have provided for you better than he did,” Julien replied, and for a moment, Joséphine forgot that she’d asked a question at all.
    Still, it was a slight against her father, and she could not let that stand. “My father loves me. He calls me his pearl.”
    Julien scoffed at that, and Joséphine scowled. “Do you know what people do with pearls?” he asked, clearly not expecting a reply, as he continued immediately, “They keep them in boxes, taking them out to wear them when the occasion calls for it, but they are hardly seen out often. They are not coveted for their beauty or their elegance. Not for what they truly are. Their value lies