Posy came dashing out the door, her face pinched and drawn.
She looked unhappy, and perhaps a bit heavier than she had been two years earlier. Araminta wouldn't like that, Sophie thought glumly. She'd never been able to accept that Posy wasn't petite and blond and beautiful like Rosamund and herself. If Sophie had been Araminta's nemesis, then Posy had always been her disappointment.
Sophie watched as Posy stopped at the top of the steps, then reached down to fiddle with the laces of her short boots.
Rosamund poked her head out of the carriage, yelling, "Posy!"
in what Sophie thought was a rather unattractively shrill voice.
Sophie ducked back, turning her head away. She was right in Rosamund's line of sight.
"I'm coming!" Posy called out.
"Hurry up!" Rosamund snapped.
Posy finishe
