“Please excuse me,” Lady Redborne swept Fern out of the room. The pair returned several moments later, Fern with her hair in a tight knot and her jaw clenched.
Conversation over cocktails and hors d’oeuvres was stilted, as Lord and Lady Redborne attempted to engage Alex in conversation and Alex did his best to avoid saying anything inappropriate, resulting in a great deal of smiling and nodding.
“Do you have plans to go to London for the end of the season, Mr. Carroway?” Lady Redborne asked.
“Um, yes, my lady, but not for the social gatherings.” Alex absently petted the dog pressing its head against his knee. “I hope to start my postgraduate studies at the London School of Economics this summer, and I will need to find my own lodgings in town.”
“Oh, Mama, Mr. Carroway should be our guest in London!” Rose grinned at her brilliant idea.
“Rose, Mr. Carroway will of course be welcome as our guest, but I will ensure he finds proper lodgings, suitable for a man of his position,” Lord Redborne said proudly, as though he himself had discovered Alex’s talents.
“He could stay with us until he finds his own lodging,” Rose retorted. “And besides, Fern will not be attending the season so her room will be available.”
“Why am I not going?” Fern asked, a crease appearing on her forehead.
Lady Redborne looked at her with surprise. “Why, you never enjoy going to London, so I told Rose it’s probably for the best that you stay here. The noise, the parties, the socializing…. It’s just too much for you, dear.”
“Do you remember last year, at the Henderson ball?” Aunt Margaret chuckled. “When she refused to get out of the carriage? She screamed so loud half of Mayfair ran to see if a woman was being murdered.”
Fern looked down, pulling at her fingers as her cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson. Alex rubbed at the increasing ache in his chest. His gaze kept darting to her, watching as the bright light faded from her eyes. Fern seemed to shrink with each passing moment until she was a shell of the vibrant woman he knew from the library.
Salisbury interrupted the moment by announcing dinner. Rose stood and put her hand in Alex’s arm, beaming. She floated alongside him as they followed Lord and Lady Redborne and Aunt Margaret into the dining room. Fern walked in last, unaccompanied. He felt as though he was being carried along in a rush of water, unable to break the inevitable stream of events proceeding before him.
“What are you studying at Oxford, Mr. Carroway?” Lady Redborne asked over their cream of asparagus soup.
“Mathematics, my lady. Specifically, I’m interested in the work of Carl Friedrich Gauss and number theory.”
Lord Redborne chuckled. “I should have you speak to my man of business. You could straighten out my ledgers better than my property manager.”
“The mathematics involved in bookkeeping is drastically different from number theory,” Fern said, not looking up from her soup. “It’s not even an apt comparison.”
“Fern,” Violet hissed in warning.
“Don’t be rude to your father, Fern,” Lady Redborne said sternly. Fern’s jaw stiffened, and she put her spoon back in her soup.
“She’s right, my lady.” Alex felt suddenly defensive of Fern. “It is a completely different—”
“Oh Mr. Carroway, you wouldn’t know but academic subjects are a forbidden topic at our table.” Aunt Margaret chuckled. “Fern has a tendency to get a bit…heated.” The Waverly family, with the exception of Fern, laughed as though sharing an inside secret. Alex shifted in his seat, fighting the knot that had drifted from his chest to his throat.
Their conversation stayed on safer topics until dessert. Lady Redborne had warmed to him considerably as they discussed his future in London, and Rose kept the discussion lively with her sparkling observations and efforts to keep Alex at ease.
“I’ve ordered more dresses for you for the summer, Fern,” Lady Redborne said, leaning towards her.
Fern sat up and blinked at her mother. “Why did you do that?”
Lady Redborne put her hand over her daughter’s. “I know it’s difficult for you, so I thought I could help, dear. I know how much you dislike fittings.”
“Mama, I’m old enough to choose my own dresses,” she retorted.
“Fern, your mother is only trying to help,” Lord Redborne interjected, a warning in his tone.
“I think now would be a lovely time to retire to the music room, don’t you think?” Rose suggested, her voice high and tight.
Fern’s nostrils flared and she drummed her fingers against her thighs as the family moved to the music room for after-dinner drinks. Alex walked behind her, overcome with the desire to reach out and squeeze her hand. She took a glass of sherry from a tray, only to have her mother take it from her and put it back with a scowl. “Would you play for us tonight, Fern? Your music is so lovely.”
Fern looked up at her mother through her lashes. “I—I hoped I could be a part of the conversation tonight, Mama.”
Her mother cupped her daughter’s cheek. Although the comment was not meant for him, Alex still heard the words. “Your sister is being courted by this man, Fern. She wants this to go well, and it would be a shame if, well, you…”
