Adela sauntered through the halls of her family's grand London mansion, the click of her heels resonating on the spotless marble floors as she made her way toward the back door. Clutching a cold glass bottle to her chest and swathing it in her shawl to conceal it, she aimed to evade detection.
Suddenly, her mother called out, "Adela."
She halted in her tracks, her heart racing. If her mother caught her with the pilfered bottle of wine from her father's alcohol cabinet, she'd be confined to the house for months. Turning slowly, Adela found her mother in the main living room, her back turned, hiding the contraband.
"Yes, Mama?" Adela responded sweetly.
Curious, her mother inquired, "You seem to be in a haste. Where are you headed?"
Thinking fast, Adela replied, "I'll be picking apples with Camila, as I mentioned yesterday."
"Hmm, I must have forgotten," her mother said, looking away. A sigh of relief escaped Adela as she moved away, but her mother called out again
"Wait," her mother said.
Tension surged through Adela once more as she responded, "Yes?"
"Are you to be alone with Camila? She tends to cut up peace quite often." her mother cautioned.
"No need to worry, Mama. Katherine will accompany us; we'll keep a watchful eye on her," Adela reassured, managing a laugh, which her mother joined.
"Very well," her mother said, dismissing her.
Finally reaching the back door, Adela opened it and dashed through the tall grass of the backyard. In the distance, she spotted her three closest friends—Camila Worthington, Katherine Worthington, and Edith Swinton—seated on a cloth blanket, the designated meeting spot. A beautiful floral tea set and four cups awaited them.
"Got it!" Adela announced.
The girls cheered, beckoning her to join them on the ground.
"Let's have some tea, girls," Camila joked.
Taking the wine bottle from Adela, Camila poured it into the cups she had brought. Katherine, Camila's younger sister, eyed the alcohol warily. Always appearing somewhat naive with her bright blond hair and youthful countenance, Katherine cautiously lifted a cup to her nose, wrinkling it at the scent.
"Oh, I am scared. What does it taste like?" Katherine asked nervously.
Camila rolled her eyes. Having always been the more rebellious one, she was well acquainted with the taste of wine.
"Stop acting like a child," Camila snaps, "it tastes of grapes."
Though accustomed to her sister's rudeness, Katherine scowled.
"It tastes of heaven," Adela chimed in warmly. Adela often played the mediator in Camila and Katherine's disputes. Katherine smiled widely, taking a big sip, but nearly gagged at the taste.
"Good Lord, if that's heaven, count me out," Katherine declared.
This prompted laughter from Camila. Katherine extended her cup towards Edith, silently offering her a sip.
"A lady shouldn't indulge in alcohol before her wedding night," Edith remarked.
"Is that what your ridiculous book says?" Camila muttered.
"No! It is a love story. Besides, we're supposed to be drinking tea, not getting drunk in broad daylight," Edith retorted.
"It is only wine, not whisky or rum. I am sure your mother consumes her fair share dealing with you," Camila remarked, laughing.
"I daresay your mother consumed her fair share whilst carrying you in her womb," Edith replies. She has always been quick with her comebacks, especially when it comes to Camila.
Adela suppressed a chuckle, quickly changing the subject. "We're not getting drunk; we're just—"
Katherine interjected, "Trying something exciting!"
"I want to get drunk," Camila muttered.
"Are you not already?" Edith quipped.
Camila shot her a disdainful look, but Edith was already engrossed in her book. Their merriment was interrupted when Katherine spotted two boys—Lord Benedict Ackerley and Lord Jasper Creed—approaching from a distance.
"Look! Look!" Katherine whispered excitedly.
The girls watched, intrigued, as Camila tried to make herself presentable.
"Oh God, how do I look?" Camila whispered nervously.
"Horrendous," Edith replied.
Camila turned to Edith, grimacing. "Can you be kind for once in your life?"
Ignoring Edith's comment, Adela attempted to diffuse the tension. "You look beautiful."
Camila scoffed. "Shut up."
"Shh!" Katherine hushed them.
"Do not shush me," Camila snapped back.
As the boys strolled past, engaged in animated conversation, Viscount Benedict Ackerley, characterized by his tall stature and soft brown hair, was known for his intellect rather than his looks, unlike Jasper. His companion, Viscount Jasper Creed, slightly shorter but undeniably striking, boasted blonde hair and captivating green eyes, earning him the reputation as one of the ton's most handsome young bachelors.
"Professor Giles was a bloody asswipe today," Jasper complained.
"Well, you did provoke him," Benedict pointed out.
Between the two, Benedict was known for his sensibility, while Jasper was more impulsive.
"I couldn't help it. You said his balding head looked like a patch of pubic hair," Jasper retorted, laughing.
Benedict shook his head, quietly amused.
Meanwhile, the girls, still observing the boys from afar, couldn't hear their conversation.
"I wonder what they're discussing," Adela mused.
"Something that is certainly most interesting," Katherine replies.
"Isn't he handsome?" Camila sighed dreamily.
"Benedict?" Edith inquired.
"Of course, I meant Benedict," Camila clarified.
Katherine squinted at him, then turned her head as if to get a better look.
"Ew," Katherine grimaced.
"I'd let him do awful things to me," Camila remarked.
The other girls ceased their gawking of the boys, turning to Camila in confusion.
"I'm sorry, what?" Adela says.
"Why would you want him to be awful to you?" Katherine asks her sister.
"Copulating is supposed to be loving, not awful," Edith says looking at her book again.
"Copulating? What is that?" Katherine asks in confusion.
Adela answers before anyone else has time to, "Nothing"
"I will draw pictures for you later," Camila whispers to her sister.
They do not know that their conversation of "copulating" can be heard by the Patriarch nearby. The Patriarch is young at 26 years old but is wise beyond his years. He was just going on a morning stroll but couldn't help listening to their conversation. He decided to intervene before things got too deep into the topic of reproducing.
"Young ladies, what ever are we discussing?" The Patriarch says.
All the girls are startled at first. They look at each other for a few seconds speaking silently with facial expressions.
Adela breaks the silence saying, "Just having tea sir."
"Oh really?" The Patriarch responds.
Adela apologized, attempting to take the blame, while Camila averted her gaze, knowing she was the instigator. The Patriarch, wise beyond his years, emphasized the importance of adhering to societal expectations as he took the bottle away from them.
Adela begins to tear up as she says, "Sir, please accept our apologies."
The anger in the Patriarch's face begins to soften. He nods in agreement and gestures for them to leave, dismissing them. As the girls walk away far enough for him not to hear, they begin to snicker again.
"Good grief," Katherine says.
"The Patriarch should partake in some copulating; maybe he would not have such a massive stick up his ass," Camila remarks.
As the sisters conversed about the Patriarch, Adela observed Edith's lingering gaze fixed upon him. When the Patriarch glanced their way once more to ensure their departure, Edith swiftly averted her eyes to her book, hoping to avoid detection.
Continuing their stroll, Edith turned to Adela, inquiring, "Were those genuine tears?"
"Indeed not; that was mere theatrics," Adela responded, her hands gesturing as if she were a ballerina. Edith chuckled, returning her attention to her book once more.