Dalby stepped into the room with a tray. “A letter was just delivered for you,” he announced.
Emilia approached him and accepted the letter. After she unfolded it, she gasped as she read the contents of the message.
Rising, Clarissa asked, “What is wrong?”
She lowered the paper to her side and responded, “Lady Roswell won’t be joining us today because she is tending to her brother who was attacked yesterday by a group of ruffians.”
“We can’t go into the rookeries, then,” Clarissa declared. “If the streets of London aren’t safe for a gentleman, they are utterly unsafe for ladies.”
“We will have four footmen who will be accompanying us,” Emilia said. “We do not need to fear, especially once we are inside of the boarding school.”
“How long do you intend for us to stay at this boarding school? After all, you may be accustomed to living in squalor, but I am not,” Clarissa remarked in her usual condescending manner.
Emilia worked to keep the displeasure off her face. She had no desire to tour the boarding school with only Clarissa, but she had no valid excuse to cancel the trip. Furthermore, she needed to meet the headmistress, Mrs. Anderson, and the girls. She simply hoped that Clarissa would behave on this outing, and refrain from belittling anyone.
“We shall stay as long as needed,” Emilia said. “If you do not wish to come?—”
Clarissa waved her hand dismissively in front of her, stilling her words. “I told you that I would come, and I meant it.”
With a gesture towards the entry hall, Emilia asked, “Shall we depart then?”
“Not without you putting on a hat first,” Clarissa replied. “A lady is never seen in public without a hat.”
As if on cue, Dalby entered the drawing room with a straw hat and extended it towards her.
Emilia smiled. “Thank you,” she acknowledged.
She placed the hat on her head and secured the string under her chin. “Good enough,” she muttered.
They both exited the townhouse and stepped into the waiting coach. As the coach rocked forward, Emilia gazed out the window, unsure of what to say to Clarissa. They had never been alone with each other before, and the situation was somewhat unsettling. Did she dare ask about their accommodation in Cheapside?
Emilia wished that Lily was here, but she had gone ahead to the boarding school.
Clarissa’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “I am glad that we got a moment alone because I wished to speak to you about something.”
With a hint of hesitation, Emilia inquired, “Which is?”
“My dowry,” Clarissa replied. “My father informed me that I would receive a dowry of twenty thousand pounds, but the solicitor didn’t mention this amount during the reading of the will.”
“Did you speak to Mr. Rymer about this?”
Clarissa shook her head. “No, but Calvin did,” she replied. “Mr. Rymer instructed him to discuss it with you.”
Emilia wasn’t entirely certain how to respond, lacking all the facts. “I will discuss this matter with Mr. Rymer at once.”
“I do appreciate that since my dowry is the only chance at securing a respectable match,” Clarissa said with a hint of bitterness. “Ever since I was declared illegitimate, the doors that were once open to me have now been firmly shut.”
Now the conversation turned awkward, and Emilia didn’t know what she could say or do to appease the situation.
After a long, uncomfortable moment, Clarissa spoke up. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me to say since it wasn’t your fault that our father did that to me.”
Emilia wasn’t without compassion for Clarissa’s predicament, understanding how difficult it must have been for her to leave behind her former life of privilege. While Emilia’s status had been elevated in high Society, Clarissa had been cast aside as an outcast. However, she wasn’t about to feel guilty for the inheritance she’d received. Her father’s dying wish was to right a wrong.
The coach came to a stop in front of a nondescript two-level red brick building. A footman exited his perch and approached the main door to inform the headmistress of their arrival.
The door opened, revealing a slender, brown-haired woman. Her hair was neatly tied in a tight chignon at the nape of her neck, and she wore a brown dress that did little to enhance her figure. Her back was rigid, and her face was one of solemnity.
“That is the headmistress?” Clarissa asked.
