Ella curtsied politely in response, mindful to keep her smile in check. It was twitching threateningly at the corners of her mouth, and honestly how could she not smile at such a dramatic flourish? She put her hand to her mouth to hide her smile until she could get herself under control.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brinsley. I am Ella Wexley," she said after she'd dropped her hand again. Youngest daughter of the deceased, she thought. And this time the saddened look was genuine. Those pesky tears were back again and she sniffled lightly while blinking them away. She should've thrown the wine on the portrait when she had the chance!
The next obvious question should have been about how well Mr. Brinsley knew her father. However, Ella just did not feel like talking about him just then. There had to be something else. Something more interesting than the blasted weather! Maybe she did need a break from the party as Patience had suggested? But she didn't want to be cooped up in some room in the house.