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“Now, Alice, take heart. You see I am also of the same ilk as yourself. Or have you not realised that? I am sure you can ask in your own particular way without risking my ire.”
Suppressing a cry, she pricked her trembling finger on her needle. It wasn’t the only part of her anatomy that quivered upon hearing his words.
“You may, of course, invite Miss Parris to visit,” said Edmund affably. “She can stay the night too, if you wish.”
Licking her finger, Alice thanked her husband profusely. He returned to his reading and she to her needlepoint.
* * *
Alice sat in the window seat at the front of the house waiting. The gig had been gone for some time. A week after the invitation had been sent, Edmund had sent the gig over to Macclesfield to collect Ann. With the weather being fine and pleasant, the open carriage had been favoured for the journey across the Peaks. However, with the noon sun fast approaching, Alice’s patience wore thin.
Finally, when she thought something was amiss, the gig appeared, trundling down the driveway.
Springing up, Alice called to her husband, so that they might greet Ann together.
The formalities of welcome completed as the driver of the gig fetched down her luggage, Alice enquired as to the nature of the delay.
“Ann, dearest friend, we expected you an hour ago,” said Alice holding Ann’s hands in her own.
“The road was dreadful, quite rough in places,” explained Ann.
Edmund shook his head. “The turnpike has not been maintained by the trustees. The tolls collected should be sufficient to pay for repairs. I will write again to them.”
Having greeted his guest, Edmund disappeared leaving the two friends to converse over a light luncheon.
Ann gazed in awe at Westfell Hall. Alice contained her natural desire to boast as she showed her friend about the main rooms.
“Alice, you are mistress of a great house. I had no idea the colonel had such lands and property,” said Ann visibly impressed by her findings.
“His family, the Seymour’s, are of a great pedigree, even though the colonel is descended from a lesser lineage of that family,” explained Alice. “The titles went to other ancestors.”
After a turn about the gardens, high tea in the drawing room, and a spell at the pianoforte singing and playing duets, the friends settled into their old manner of gossiping.
“Philippa has taken to writing love poems,” informed Ann. “Quite atrocious ones, I might add.”
“Has she given them to anyone?” Alice perched on the edge of her chair, expectantly hoping for something slightly scandalous.
“No. Lucy ridiculed them so much that Philippa burnt them on the fire. I’m glad I don’t have a sister.”
The inconsequential chatter continued over dinner. Edmund, emerging from his self-imposed confinement in his study, seated himself at the head of the table and contributed little to the discourse.
The footman poured another glass of elder wine into Alice’s glass. Her manners had become increasingly jovial and speech laced with nuances her friend found amusing, at first. However, upon finishing the second glass, her tongue began to slip into coarser language. She disengaged any censorship of her words and drifted into topics a sober mind would never have countenanced. If it led to consequences, she felt sure she could handle them. However, she knew she mustn’t go too far with her foolishness. No more wine, she pushed the glass away.
“Since living here, Ann, I have had my eyes opened to the ways of nature. With such a large estate, I do see many things.”
“Ways of nature?” queried Ann, her fork hovering by her mouth.
“Yes, only the other day, during a walk about the park, I did encounter two of the colonel’s hounds,” Alice lowered her voice, “conjoined.” She sniggered, while her friend turned slightly pink. Oh, how easy it was to make Ann blush with embarrassment. Alice didn’t wish to be cruel, but the necessity of her idea required her friend’s cooperation.
She couldn’t stop her mouth from rambling on. “A very vigorous joining, I might add and they did struggle to—”
Ann cleared her throat as if to cough.
“Enough, Alice,” barked Edmund hastily. “This line of conversation is to cease. You have embarrassed your friend with your vulgar tale. Please keep to subjects of taste or else you will face the consequences.”
Consequences! The word echoed about the room. She glanced at Ann, but her friend seemed unaware of the connotations and continued to pick at her food. Only Alice had understood Edmund’s subtext. She quickly returned her attention to her plate.
Had she been vulgar? A few months back, she had no comprehension of the true nature of sex, now she saw it about her everywhere. Not the act itself, but the seductive flirtations between man and woman that led to it. The sly looks of the footmen as their eyes wandered about the maids and the whispering voices in the corridors, things that Alice had once been oblivious to, were now obvious. They awakened her sexual fantasies. She picked up her fan and shook it vigorously in front of her heated cheeks.
