Love With the Proper Husband by Victoria Alexander

virtuous qualities in the malevolent looks they leveled at her. At the moment Gwen doubted they were called Pleasance or Tolerance or Kindness. She had seen looks like that from children before. They quite despised her.
    “The choice is not up to you,” Miss Hilliard said in an unyielding manner, then turned her gaze to Gwen. “Decisions must be made as to their future. However, we shall discuss it later. For now, I will leave you alone for your…visit.” She cast a disapproving glare at the girls. “I’m sure it shall be most informative.” She turned and marched from the room, snapping the door shut behind her. As if of one mind, all eyes followed the older woman’s departure, and Gwen realized the girls disliked Miss Hilliard even more than they disliked her. At least they had that in common. They turned their attention back to Gwen, and she knew shared dislike would not be nearly enough.
    “Are you Aunt Gwendolyn, then?” the oldest asked coolly.
    Gwen nodded. “Indeed I am. And you are?”
    The girl hesitated, as if she wasn’t certain revealing even that much information was wise.
    “You can tell her that .” The middle girl sighed. “Her name is Charity, and this is Hope.” She nodded at her younger sister. “I am Patience.” Patience smiled politely and flicked her gaze over Gwen in that dismissive manner perfected by girls some time after their tenth year, when they start assessing every other woman with a critical eye. “Did you know you look a little like our mother?”
    “Except she was pretty,” Hope added. “Very pretty.”
    Patience studied Gwen thoughtfully. “She’s pretty. Just not very pretty.”
    “Or”—Charity’s eyes narrowed—“I daresay very nice.”
    Gwen started. “I am quite nice. Or at least I can be.”
    Charity snorted in disbelief.
    “But you’re right about one thing.” Gwen’s gaze shifted from one sister to the next. “You’re not being fair. We’ve only just met. You’ve not given me the opportunity to be nice or anything else.”
    Hope planted her hands on her hips. “Why should we?”
    “Indeed.” Patience crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not as if you deserve it.”
    “Nonsense. I have done nothing whatsoever to warrant not deserving the opportunity to be, at the very least, friends.” Gwen cringed to herself at the note in her voice. She was speaking to these girls, the only family she had, in the same collected, firm manner she had always spoken to the children in her charge. In her governess voice, intended to display authority tempered with kindness. Gwen had never mastered it and knew full well she sounded hard instead of firm, and cold rather than collected. She tried again. “Now what, precisely, are you are talking about?”
    “We’re talking about where you have been since Mama and Papa died and why you haven’t come for us.” Resentment flashed in Charity’s eyes and she fairly spit the word. “ Precisely .”
    “Mama said if anything happened to her and Papa, you would take care of us,” Patience said.
    “But I’ve only just learned of your existence,” Gwen started. “I couldn’t possibly have—”
    Hope paid her no heed.
    “Sisters are supposed to take care of one another. That’s what Mama always said. It’s what sisters do. It’s what families do.” The trio nodded in unison.
    “She said grandfather no longer counted as family because he didn’t like Papa and Papa was her family.” Charity glared as if that was somehow Gwen’s fault. “And therefore we should not expect that he would like us.”
    “Besides.” Hope’s glare matched her older sister’s. “He’s dead. Like Mama and Papa. Only they
    ’re in heaven and he’s probably in—”
    “That’s quite enough,” Gwen said sharply in her best no-nonsense governess manner.
    “Hell.” Defiance rang in Charity’s voice.
    “Hell,” Patience said firmly.
    “Hell.” Hope nodded. “Where he shall burn forever in retribution for his