Claire Sinclair froze for a moment. Although Mrs. Quincy had compared her to her sister when they first met, she had never suggested Claire was the lesser of the two, which surprised her.
Adrian Quincy led her to the bedside. He looked down at his mother's gaunt face and said in a low voice, "Mother, I'm sorry. You've suffered so much."
Mrs. Quincy shot him a disdainful look. "Don't give me that nonsense. Claire, come here. Sit here and let Mom get a good look at you."
Claire Sinclair hesitated for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed.
Mrs. Quincy excitedly grabbed her hand, her gaze sweeping up and down over her countless times. She praised her repeatedly, "Not bad, not bad at all. You're much prettier than that rough sister of yours. Your hands are much more delicate, too. This is how a young lady should be. Don't be like your sister, always rushing to the front of every situation. A girl needs to be a little delicate to win a man's affection."
