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“Well I’m sorry to say the novelty here in Dunwood expires remarkably quickly. I am always gratified to have the chance to visit Laurence, but by the second or third day, I tend to become dangerously bored. Every day is much like another out here.”
Chewing a bit more thoroughly than required to allow for an easy change of subject, Alicia asked, “Do you visit your brother often, then? Since he does not come to visit you, as you said?”
“Not as often as all that—perhaps once a year. Nearly every summer, I should say, since I first went away to London. Edward came himself, once, against my better judgment.” She cast a sardonic look to Jenny, who had moved onto demolishing her fourth piece of thick country bread. “You should have seen him. We arrived on Monday, and by our Wednesday here he was sunburnt, his ankles were too swollen to walk, and he could not stop sneezing.”
“So much for the health benefits of the countryside!” Alicia said with a laugh.
“It was all perfectly bearable—for me, at least. Until he stumbled into that beehive on Wednesday evening. He hasn’t been back here since, and that suits all three of us just fine!”
Alicia had another piece of bread buttered and halfway raised to her lips when the companionable quiet of the room was split by a loud banging sound, followed by a series of thumps. She turned toward the source of the sound and saw Laurence trudging into the room with heavy, muddy boots.
“Good morning, Miss Ramsbury, Miss Jenny,” he said genteelly. A warm smile was on his lips, one that strangely prompted Alicia to look away in embarrassment lest she be caught staring. “I trust you both had a good night’s sleep?”
“Yes, I…” Alicia began to answer before she detected a strong, musky odour permeating the room. She sniffed, her nose wrinkling, then looked a bit closer at Laurence as he stomped over to the table and took an empty seat.
What is that all over him?she thought, trying to hide her distaste at the interruption. His shirt was dripping with sweat, his hands and clothing covered in blobs of something brown that she hoped were mud.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Laurence said. He reached out a dirt-covered hand for the loaf of bread in front of Alicia, and she felt herself recoil against her better manners.
Mary-Anne cleared her throat loudly, freezing Laurence’s hand in place. “Please, Miss Ramsbury, forgive my brother’s untidy state. He has been out doing chores on the estate all morning, and apparently forgot to clean his hands before joining us for breakfast. And every other part of him, I can see.”
Chastened, Laurence stood from the table without a word and stalked off to another part of the house.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Ramsbury,” said Mary-Anne, pleasantness returning to her voice. “My brother really can be a complete oaf at times.”
“No, it’s…not at all, really,” Alicia protested, forcing a smile. “This is his home, after all. He can…conduct himself as he likes, I’m sure.” She hoped the words sounded more convincing aloud than they were in her head.
“You’re kind to say so. Though if I’m being honest, kindness and snappishness have the same extremely limited effect upon civilizing my brother’s behaviour.”
Alicia struggled not to sniff when Laurence returned to the table, hands clean even if the rest of him was still caked with dirt. “So, Miss Ramsbury, I’ve been so curious since we first came across you on the road yesterday,” said Mary-Anne as she took a sip of tea. “Where exactly where you coming from on our little highway?”
“And where were you going?” Laurence added through a mouthful of cheese. Mary-Anne shot him an aggravated look at his manners.
“I was going back to London, having been in Portsmouth for a time,” said Alicia, her hands resting in her lap. “Visiting an old family friend. Missus Miggins was very good to my sister and me, especially after our mother and father died.”
“Oh, my dear, I’m sorry to hear it,” said Mary-Anne, extending a hand to Alicia in sympathy. “We know ourselves how horribly sad it can be to lose your parents.”
“Thank you, you’re very kind,” murmured Alicia. She had grown so tired of saying those same words whenever she was made to explain her orphaned state, and they somehow sounded even more pathetic than usual today.
“Your sister lives in London as well? And she is still waiting for your arrival, then?” asked Laurence in a concerned tone.
“Yes, I…suppose she is.”
Laurence and Mary-Anne shared a significant look. The sister nodded, then said in a less jocular voice than usual, “If you like, we can have a letter sent into the city.”
Alicia nodded gamely. “Thank you, that would be very kind of you.” Then, to put off any follow-up questions or offers, she picked up a massive slice of the strong white cheese and took a bite, though she was already stuffed to the gills.
In truth, she had thought of asking after the very same thing the previous night. But the prospect of writing to Grace, of wording her situation in a way that would not draw too much of her sister’s legendary ire or send her into a dead faint, had been entirely too much to bear.
Tomorrow,Alicia said to herself.If Herbert isn’t back by tomorrow, I’ll write Grace a letter then. Surely I can be forgiven one more day without having to be consumed with avoiding my sister’s scorn, and there’s no reason to burden the Gillinghams with our own sisterly quarrels.
Seeing that her hosts were carefully examining her silence, Alicia swallowed her cheese and asked the first thing that came into her mind:
“Do you not have a wife, then, Mister Gillingham? Or some other special woman in your life?”
It was only when she saw three pairs of eyes looking at her when Alicia realized how this question might be interpreted. She fought not to flush with embarrassment as Laurence wiped crumbs away from his mouth with his sleeve.
“I think it would be best to say that there’s no one who has caught my eye yet,” he said with a winning smile. “Or my heart.”
“My brother means he has yet to find a woman who meets his bizarrely high standards,” interjected Mary-Anne, a conversational quirk to which Alicia had already become accustomed.
I know the feeling,Alicia thought as the siblings lapsed once more into their friendly—she assumed—squabbling.Whatever your foibles, Mister Gillingham, I pray your fortunes change for the better. No matter what Grace may say, no one deserves to be left alone.
