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Chapter 17
Uncrossed Paths
The night was a long and restless one, and Alicia was surprised to find that first light brought immediate clarity to her mind.
I have to go back,she thought to herself, impressed with the self-evidence of this conclusion.Whatever I thought was keeping me here in London cannot be worth the price I must pay for it. Let Grace disown me, let her rant and rave and swear vengeance—it does not matter. I have to go back.
Feeling suddenly light and unencumbered, she went through her normal morning routine with great alacrity, giving not a care that she might be going through these steps for the very last time. As she bathed, brushed her hair, dressed herself, she even found herself humming a strange little tune she eventually remembered was something she had heard Mary-Anne singing idly one day. All the while, the same insistent refrain beat within her.
I have to go back.
“Jenny?” she said to her devoted maid as soon as she was dressed. Jenny looked to her with an air of expectation. “Get dressed quickly, please, and ask Herbert to ready the horses. The same horses, if they are ready to run, or fresh ones if necessary. We leave for Dunwood in half an hour.”
Alicia was unsure just what Jenny’s reaction to this insane order would be—whatever it was, she was not expecting Jenny to whoop with joy and wrap her in a strong embrace. “Oh, Miss Alicia, I was wondering when you’d get your head on straight!” she laughed. “Of course, I was hoping it might be before having to go back all that way in that creaky old carriage, but…”
“There will be time enough for ‘I told you so’ on the road,” said Alicia, squirming out of her maid’s grasp. “Please, go quickly.”
Jenny nodded, chuckling to herself as she packed her knitting back in her little bag and toddled off to find their driver.
Now for the difficult bit,thought Alicia with a grimace, stepping out of her room without so much as a backward look.
As she took the long route down the polished grand staircase of the Ramsbury house, a dozen possibilities for how to make her escape ran through her mind with each step. She could sneak out behind Grace’s back, certainly; all it would take was a flimsy excuse about paying someone a social call, particularly if it were on Grace’s behalf. She could wait until Grace was away on a visit of her own, though that would leave her without the carriage. And of course, there was the problem of her possessions.
Will I be able to come back once I leave?she asked herself, walking slowly down the white marble steps.If Laurence will have me, will I be permitted to stay at his house for the time being? Can I send for my things—those I still care to keep, that is—or will Grace begin scissoring my dresses in half the moment I am out the door? Perhaps I should go back up and pack a trunk with my most precious things before leaving…
By the time she reached the foot of the stairs, however, Alicia’s mind was made up. Grace’s abominable behaviour notwithstanding, there was only one way to exit this scenario: honestly and quickly.
“Good morning, Grace,” called Alicia to the far end of the table as she walked into the dining hall.
“Hmm, yes, quite,” returned Grace from her usual high-backed seat. Though it was a warm summer morning, Grace was dressed in her typical high-necked, long-sleeved gown that was as seasonally inappropriate as it was out of fashion. “You seem to be in a better mood this morning, I’m glad to see.”
“Yes, thank you, I am,” replied Alicia with a genuine smile. Still standing near the doorway, she took a fond look around the dining room. Alicia had always loved this room best of all in the house. The crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling always caught the afternoon light most beautifully, sending colourful prisms arcing across the pastoral oil paintings that bedecked the walls. She smiled as her eye fell on a winter scene that had always been her mother’s favourite.
For the barest instant, she felt a tinge of regret at leaving all this behind for good to return to the countryside. It was funny, really—not a week before she would have dismissed this idea as completely preposterous. But all it took was a second’s remembrance of Laurence’s shining face and Alicia felt her resolve strengthen.
“It’s good that your escapade has left you less of a layabout than usual,” said Grace as she sipped her tea, her breakfast all but uneaten on the plate before her. “There is much to do today.”
“Oh? Why? What do you have planned?” asked Alicia lightly. Ordinarily, she would have rather pulled her teeth than listen to Grace dictate the day to come. Today, though, she knew she needed to buy Herbert at least a few more minutes to ready her means of departure.
“I think it best to start with the two of us paying a visit to Lady Mumford—she’s the widow of the late Duke, you know. She doesn’t let just anyone in for a visit, but her opinion shall be critical for re-establishing my reputation properly among the ton after you so callously allowed our name to be dragged through the mud.”
“I see.”
“From there we may have a moment for a spot of lunch at that Parisian salon I told you about. You remember, the one where every lady who expects to be somebody needs to be seen. Parisian, I think, or…Florentine? Or Spanish?” Grace frowned and looked for her answer up at the ceiling. Not finding it there, she waved her hand dismissively. “No matter, you’re the one with the head for those sorts of finer points.”
“I suppose so.”
“Now, Mister Carp is expected to be at the performance of some play or something this evening, at the new theatre they just opened.Troy…Troy and somebody, I think.”
“Troilus and Cressida?”
“How would you know? Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” said Grace impatiently. “You and I must be seen at the play, that is the important thing.”
“I didn’t think you enjoyed the Bard’s works.”
“Who? Honestly, Alicia, can’t you keep your mind on what we’re actually talking about for more than a few seconds? The important bit is that sometime during the second or third act I shall faint dramatically, prompting Mister Carp to come and help revive me.”
“You’re planning on interrupting a professional play so you can feign helplessness to ensnare a man into helping you?”
