There was one good thing about not being the center of attention, the way Lily was. Adorable as a baby, dazzling by the age of eight. Because she was so pretty, Lily didn’t need to behave. After years of observing her sister, Grace came to understand what her father meant. Their father said that Lily was a Force of Nature. She didn’t obey anyone’s rules, including the duchess’s. She ripped her frocks, spilled her milk, and gave people sparkling looks and disobedient smiles. Grace’s little sister Lily was not boring. She was kind to servants, old people, and dogs. She spoke three languages, played the pianoforte, and painted landscapes (poorly) and portraits (surprisingly well). She never sat on the grass, climbed trees, or behaved in a fashion other than that which behooved a member of the peerage. Her mama, the Duchess of Ashbrook, made certain that her children knew precisely how to behave in any conceivable instance, and Grace was a dutiful eldest daughter. By the age of ten, Lady Grace Ryburn had a clear understanding of her place in the world.
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