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Sian and Martha shared a worried look because they knew then that the house had just descended into disgruntled chaos and, if the look of those bags was anything to go by, was going to remain in disarray for a long time yet.
“What-”
“I shall tell you in the morning. Is your spare room made up?” Wilhelmina demanded imperiously. “Get a maid to take my hand luggage up, would you? The smaller bags are the ones I need. The others can be unpacked in the morning.”
“Wilhelmina?” Arthur gasped; his face frozen in horror.
“Oh, do stop gaping, Arthur. It isn’t polite to answer the door looking like a codfish.”
“It isn’t polite to call upon people at one o’clock in the morning,” Arthur replied with a dark look.
“Do you think I actually chose to come here?” Wilhelmina demanded. “I should say not. I am in dire straits. There is no place else for me to go. I need a bed for the night, and so does Cedrick. Do you remember Carlotta’s son, Cedrick? He is four and twenty now and was staying with me to keep me company for a while seeing as I never get any visitors.”
Now that, Sian didn’t doubt. She did, however, doubt the wisdom of turning up at anybody’s house at one o’clock in the morning, with a somewhat dubious gentleman in tow.
“Oh, do leave the coachman to that, Cedrick. It is his job, not yours. What will people think?”
Sian looked around the hallway in search of these ‘people’ and shook her head in disbelief.
“Mother,” Martha prompted. “Can’t we tell her to go to a tavern or something?”
“You know that is not polite, dear,” Mabel bit out through clenched teeth.
“What are you all muttering up there? Out with it. I can hear you. Why, standing together up there as you do you look like a coven of witches. Have you woken the maid yet?”
“I think the whole damned county is awake now,” Arthur grumbled, his night-cap tilting listlessly to one side as he shook his head.
When his gaze strayed up to his wife, Mabel threw him a dark look before she turned her back and disappeared into her bed chamber to change. Sian watched them and wondered when their relationship had become so frosty. It warned her that there was a lot more problems in the house than she realised, which did little to dispel the sudden tension in the air.
“What are you standing there for, girl? Where is that maid of yours? Don’t just stand gawping at people. Don’t you know it is rude? Where are your manners?” Wilhelmina continued.
“Like turning up unannounced in the early hours of the morning isn’t rude,” Sian muttered sarcastically.
“What was that? Muttering again, are we?” Wilhelmina squinted suspiciously at Sian. “We shall have to make sure we ensure you learn better manners before you go out next. I don’t know what your mother is thinking of.”
Sian glared at her father and wished he would, for once, stand up to his domineering older sister. To her dismay, he seemed to shrink before her eyes. With his gaze lowered, he began to help the coachman bring the bags into the house. Sian shared a look with Lucinda before, without a word, they both returned to their bed chambers.
“Well, really.”
Sian closed the door on Wilhelmina’s blustering, and leaned against it for a moment.
“What do we do?” Martha cried.
“Go back to bed and hope this is all a nightmare,” Sian snorted.
“Why do you think she is here?”
“I hope to God she is just staying overnight, and doesn’t intend to move in.” Martha stared at Sian with wide eyes that silently pleaded with her to confirm that was most likely.
Sian couldn’t lie to her and shook her head. “I don’t think father is going to kick her out, do you?”
They both listened to Wilhelmina bellowing orders before the loud bang of her mother’s bed chamber door preceded the sound of footsteps stomping past their bedroom. Sian hurriedly dressed and raced after her mother, not least because she wanted to know what had brought Wilhelmina to their door, and how long she was going to stay.
“Well, it is good to see you again I must say. Slinking off like that without bothering to help,” Wilhelmina snapped when she saw them.
“It is good to see you, Wilhelmina,” Arthur began with little enthusiasm.
“You will have to excuse our lack of preparation but one o’clock in the morning isn’t the time we usually expect guests,” Mabel added pointedly. “Neither does our maid for that matter. She is in bed, as we all should be, and is going to stay there. Frances has a busy day tomorrow.”
