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Chapter 15
Resumption of Hostilities
“Welcome home, Miss Alicia,” wheezed the aged butler of the Ramsbury Estate.
“Thank you, Mister Wentworth,” Alicia greeted him, her eyes momentarily dazzled by the candles that burned brightly in the entryway. Despite needing to squint to adjust her vision from the dark interior of the carriage, she smiled, happy to see the familiar lined face of her family’s ancient retainer.
As Herbert shook Jenny awake and moved to untie the baggage from the back of the carriage, Mister Wentworth walked slowly beside Alicia toward the open doorway of their London house. It was no ancient, sprawling estate like some of the noble families in the area, but it had always been far too large for the Ramsburys. As a child, Alicia had enjoyed exploring the forgotten nooks and crannies in all the sundry parlours and salons of the looming stone edifice. That is until Grace had begun to terrorize her with stories of ghosts and monsters that lurked in the closets. Ever since, the shadows had been too long and dark in the old house for her liking.
“It’s good to see you back with us, Miss Alicia,” Mister Wentworth said quietly, walking beside her toward the house. “And in such a healthy state, it seems.”
“Yes, well. It’s…good to see home. Especially after such a long time away.”
Before she could cross the entryway, though, Mister Wentworth danced in her path with surprising dexterity, stopping her in her tracks. “Miss Alicia,” he said under his breath. After a short, barking cough, he leaned in closer to her ear. “I’m afraid Miss Grace is…having an unfortunate bout of distemper. A rather virulent one, I’m sorry to say.”
Alicia nodded grimly. “Thank you for telling me so. I had imagined as much.” Seeing Mister Wentworth’s eyes glitter with pity, she gave him a familiar pat on his stooped shoulder. “Perhaps you should retire for the evening a bit early, in that case. To avoid drawing any friendly fire, should it fall your way.”
“Not before I help Mister Place with the bags,” said the butler. “But that…may take some time, I should think. Thank you, Miss Alicia. And Godspeed.” With that, he shuffled away toward the carriage as Jenny caught up to Alicia on the front step.
Here I go,Alicia breathed as she stepped across the threshold into her family home.
“So!” was the first word Grace launched in the direction of her sister. For a long moment, it was the only word, giving Alicia a chance to survey the situation.
Grace and Alicia were only a few years apart in age, but Grace was routinely mistaken for her mother or maiden aunt. Alicia had spent a great deal of time wondering just why this was—their features were not terribly dissimilar in a real sense, after all. Eventually, she had decided it was a matter of behaviour more than nature. Grace’s nose was constantly pointed up to the heavens, giving her a haughty look that belied her youth, and her arms were often as not crossed in front of her or perched akimbo on her hips, making her seem cross even on the rare occasions when she was not.
As usual, Grace was dressed inappropriately for the occasion. Alicia was unsure just what garments were strictly appropriate for welcoming home a wayward sister, but to her eye, the fur stole and thick red dress was wrong in every direction. The only positive point she could detect was the fetching hairband in Grace’s dark, curly hair, and Alicia was fairly certain that ornament was actually hers.
“So!” she repeated. “At last the prodigal sister returns from her misadventures away from home.” She huffed, producing a sound of abject derision as she looked at her sister with disdain.
Alicia took a slow, calming breath. She turned to Jenny and quietly said, “You can go ahead and go to your room if you like. We’ve had a long journey and you should get some rest. Don’t worry about tomorrow morning, either.”
“Thank you, Miss Alicia,” Jenny replied as she discreetly slipped away to the servants’ quarters.
“Since you so kindly asked,” spat Grace, raising her voice, “no, I amnotwell. As you should well know, having left me to the dogs at the Martens’ dinner party.”
Grace then stalked away from her sister into the adjoining study. This was a favourite tactic of hers, making Alicia rush after her to continue the conversation so she could pretend to be more harried than she ever really was.
Alicia sighed deeply before following her sister into the study, where Grace was already pretending to busy herself with a book.
“Grace,” she began. “I am not certain how you came to the conclusion that the carriage accident was in any way caused by my actions, but—”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, hewasthere,” Grace interjected.
Alicia blinked, shaking her head slightly. “What? Who?”
“MisterCarp,” she replied with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “For goodness’ sake, Alicia, don’t tell me you’ve taken complete leave of your memory as well as your good sense!”
“Carp…” Alicia muttered, stepping into the room on tired legs. The carriage ride was extremely bumpy, and she was still rather sore from the journey. “Do you mean Mister Eric Carp? The…err, the businessman you had seen some time ago? Or sea captain?”
“Sea captain?” Grace repeated in disbelief. “Alicia, you cannot mean to say you have been so inattentive that you have forgotten about my incipient engagement with Mister Carp?”
Alicia shuffled wearily to an empty chair as she tried to provoke her brain to follow her words.What on Earth is she talking about? What is an ‘incipient’ eng—
“Oh,” said Alicia, putting her fingers to her forehead as she recalled the fight she and Grace had had right before leaving for Portsmouth. Grace had accused her of not being supportive in her pursuit of her latest target. In all actuality, Alicia would have been thrilled to see Grace married and away from the house for good, even if it was to someone she vaguely remembered as being a slimy, grasping industrialist. But of course, just giving her assent was not enough—Alicia was somehow also expected to do most all of the courting and social manoeuvring on Grace’s behalf.
“Yes, Grace, I’m sorry, I believe we did discuss your…ahem,expectedengagement,” she said, forcing a tired smile. “So what happened? Did he—”
“What happened was an unmitigated disaster!” cried Grace, hiding her face behind an Oriental hand fan. “Mister Carp hardly said a word to me all evening, and by the time the dessert course was served everyone was laughing and singing the praises of some young strumpet at the other end of the table. I looked a complete fool!”
