Sublime

Lillian frowned. “Perhaps he’s waiting to meet someone. If so, it would hardly do Annabelle any good to go dashing up to him like a bitch in heat.” “Might you be able to come up with a more flattering metaphor, dear?” Annabelle asked mildly, and Lillian flashed her a grin.

Lillian smiled at her, seeming to identify with the note of grim determination in Annabelle’s voice. “I like you,” she announced, and leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with a negligence that was rather inappropriate for a girl in her first season.