Breaking Glass

(17) Let's Hope So

 Chapter Seventeen.

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                “Rose, are you ready?”

                I glanced at Stella’s small frame, a smile slipping onto my face as I did so. She gave me a look of impatience and I looked back at my mirror, then down at my paper. I was actually going to do this. “I fancy that I am,” I said, nodding as I attempted to remember what I had to say at my speech.

                “Then let’s go!” Stella said, and I felt my hand jerk. I let myself be pulled by her force, through the hallways, down the stairs and then finally outside, where a carriage was waiting to take me to the place where I was to give my speech.

                “Pardon me Rose, I know you are carrying extra weight, but it must not be that hard for you to hoist yourself up to your seat,” Stella said, patting my back as I strained to pull myself up to the carriage.

                “Shh!” I hissed, reaching back to smack Stella lightly on her head. I grinned when I heard her grunt.

                “Watch it!” she exclaimed.

                “Watch what you say then,” I mumbled before attempting to pull myself up again. No such success.

                “I said pardon me,” Stella said.

                “Oh, like that cancels out your rather insulting comment.”

                “Well, darling, it wasn’t a comment. It was the truth.”

                “M’Lady?” the coachman interjected, offering his hand.

                “No thank you, sir,” I replied sweetly.

                “Oh, just take his bloody hand. We are going to be late,” Stella snapped, and I did to her bidding.

                I fell to my seat like a bag of sand, heavy and unresponsive. Stella pushed my leg aside so she could squeeze herself into the space. I saw a couple of people stare at me weirdly, and to stifle a rumor before it started, I sat straight up.

                “Nervous?” Stella inquired, cocking her eyebrow.

                “No,” I began, “just some… morning sickness.” I said the last words very quietly, so no one but me and Stella could hear.

                “That dress,” she began, looking down at my corset, “must have some account to that.”

                I furrowed my brows, glancing down at my waist. “It’s not too tigh…” I said, and took a deep breath right after saying it.

                “You look like you did months ago. And honestly, without that, you wouldn’t.”

                “Will you stop harping at me? Please, Estella?”

                She scowled. “You know I don’t like it when you use my real name.”

                “Oh, why, Estella?”

                “Shut it.”

                “But tell me why, Est-“ I stopped short as Stella clamped her hand over my mouth.