Slowly, the anger drained out of Lady Farrington. It was replaced by a strange, twisted sense of desperate justification. She dropped her hand that wanted to deliver the next slap. Her arm fell limply into her lap.
Lady Farrington let out a long, shaky breath. She looked down at her gloved hands, unable to meet her daughter's broken gaze.
"You do not understand the world, Celine," Lady Farrington spoke. Her voice was no longer sharp. It was tired, and filled with the harsh, cold realities of the lives women were forced to lead.
"I am not doing this merely for your father's approval," Lady Farrington said quietly. She lifted her head and looked at Celine. "I am trying to save you. I am trying to save you from marrying someone like your father."
Celine blinked, confused by the sudden shift in her mother's tone.
