Pippa wanders in the grounds with her fiancé. We detest him from the beginning, detest the way he explores us with his eyes and his imagination. My stomach turns when he turns to me, and licks his lips when no one else is looking. I glance away, tear Fee and Ann from the throng gathering around our dearest friend, drag them to a darkened corner and whisper furiously at the cruelty of Pippa's parents.
"How can they be so despicable? He is old enough to be her father, and the way he was looking at us! I mean, really!"
Felicity shrugs, and looks unconcerned, and I feel a prickling hatred towards my friend.
"Fee, she's supposed to be one of us!" Ann frowns, bites her lip, and I feel like shaking them both.
"Well, what can we do about it? I mean, it's not as if we can call it off, can we?" She turns away, inspect her nails, holding them this way and that to catch the light. They shine like blades in the sun.
Pippa comes in, hours later, weary and forlorn. She kicks off her boots, after tugging at the laces half-heartedly, and flings herself down dramatically onto her bed.
We are in her and Fee's chamber. It is much prettier that ours, the floorboards polished until gleaming and the window frames freshly painted. Pippa sinks down into her pillow and shakes, and we all know that she is crying.
"Pip, I'm so sorry. I don't know what to do." I sit uselessly next to her, unsure of whether to touch her or leave her be. Perhaps we should ignore it all.
"I just can't bear it, Gemma. I simply can't. How my mother can do this to me! She is ignoring every plea, every imploring letter I have sent. She is determined to break me." She sobs, and Ann rushes across the room to her, stroking her irritatingly on the head, like some scolded child or shy kitten.
"Fee?" I raise my head, and see her standing at the window, her back slightly turned towards me. The sun streams down for a second, free of some cloud, and illuminates her face. My Fee is crying.
I do not mention it in front of Pip and Ann: they have far too much to be worried about. Instead, I find her after dinner; lure her away from her books and her mirror, and into the garden. We stroll briskly down the path where out friendship was first forged. It seems so long ago.
"Fee, what's the matter? Why were you crying?"
She does not answer, and we stay silent for a few minutes, taking in the breathtaking scenery of our home. Spence. The place of my sister's death.
"Fee, I know you were crying? Why?"
"It is none of your business." Her tone is curt and cold, and I recoil in surprise. What is this Fee, who kisses me and holds me and cuts me so smoothly with her poisoned words? This is not a friendship. This is...
Something that I do not understand, and never will.
"Fee..."
She tears her arm from mine, turns to face me with hateful tears glistening in her eyes. Her cheeks are almost translucent, and, in this moment of rage, she is terrifying.
"Pippa has been my dearest friend all of my life, Gemma! Do you not understand friendship? Companionship? Is it beneath you? How she can be married off, heartbroken and lost, and I cannot do anything about it! Do you not think it is killing me? I am powerless. And it frightens me to my very core."
She collapses against me, and I try to support her, but inside I feel the same. Our Pippa, our dear, hateful, spiteful Pippa, our selfish and vain and thoughtless Pippa.
Our wonderful Pippa who we cannot let slip through our fingers.
And at once I know what we must do.