The Rake’s Absolutely Scintillating Schooling (The Notorious Briarwoods #20)

Chapter 1

London

Not quite midnight

A hackney

Miss Alice Mitchell usually loved to smile.

She was quite good at it. She’d been told on more than one occasion that her smiles were beautiful. The curve of her lips generally brought joy wherever she went. Her family loved to see her smiles, for they were full of warmth and mirth.

Not long ago, she’d enjoyed giving people smiles.

But over the last month, those smiles had become feigned and forced.

Painful even. But she had managed to persuade the ton that they were quite real.

She’d had to convince them, for she wouldn’t let a single person see, not even her family, how she felt on the inside.

In all her life, she had never had to feign smiles. She’d been a genuinely joyous person, happy with her lot in life as the daughter of a not very important member of the ton.

She hadn’t had many jewels, luxurious costumes, or a gilded palace to dwell in. But she’d been content, happy, and eager to marry to please her family.

When she’d first entered this year’s Season, she’d been fairly certain that her marriage would not be a grand one, but it would be a good one.

Things had taken quite a different turn when her younger sister, Muriel, had encountered the Briarwood family and developed a special friendship with them. And Alice? Her fortunes had suddenly turned, as had the fortunes of her other sisters.

She had gained the proposal of a lord!

Heavens! Everything had seemed as if it would be blissful.

Her smiles had only grown with each day.

How could she not smile from morning to night?

She had pleased her mother. She had pleased her father.

She had pleased her whole family, including herself, for she had triumphed as all young ladies hoped to.

For what else was considered the great triumph of a young lady’s life but the importance of the man who proposed to her?

Eventually, she learned she had not pleased the man who wished to marry her, not through any action of her own, but through the rather scandalous behavior of her younger sister, Muriel.

She could not begrudge Muriel, nor blame her. Quite the contrary, despite the pain of the embarrassment, she was exceptionally proud of the way her younger sister had chosen to live out her dreams.

But now Alice’s smiles felt brittle. Her cheeks hurt from the strain of forcing her mouth into a fixed position.

She had not known what to do. She’d tried for weeks to weather the storm of her frustrations and dismay alone, all the while attending every ball, rout, and party she was invited to, lest she seem defeated.

No, despite her smiles and jolly behavior, she had felt lost and unable to tell the truth.

And so, for the first time in her life, Alice had lied to her family. She was not given to the habit of pretense or falsehoods, but now it seemed that they were her second nature.

All because of the machinations of a lord who had been appalled by her sister’s dream and had treated Alice appallingly in turn.

Luckily, she had escaped her engagement to the man who had bared his ugly spirit and would have likely made her life a misery. Part of her wished to dance with joy every time she thought about her escape. But the pity and suspicion of the ton was no easy thing to tolerate.

Now she had to pretend as if it did not bother her, and that was no easy thing either.

She did not want her family to suffer. She did not want Muriel to feel regret at her own choices, and so Alice had forced herself, over and over again, to laugh, to tilt her head to the side as if she was constantly amused, to grin, to make jokes as if her entire being did not burn to a cinder every time people stared at her and whispered behind their painted gold-lined fans.

But she was done with that. She had to be.

She could no longer bear it. She refused to be broken by that man, the lord who’d cast her down.

And she refused to play by the ton’s rules any longer.

Rules that made the ton treat her differently just because her engagement had been broken off, no matter how much she smiled, laughed, and danced!

And so, when her family had gone out this night to a ball, she told them she did not feel particularly well. She’d then donned a cloak and bonnet, headed down the backstairs, called a hackney, and slipped into it.

Alice drew in a slow breath and yet she trembled. In all her life, she’d never broken the rules. She’d certainly never been in a hackney, let alone by herself.

The vehicle rattled along the dark streets of London. The barely lit night was thick with atmosphere. The moon was hidden behind clouds, making the streets even darker.

Loud voices outside—drunken, happy, loud, and angry—pierced her thoughts.

Every sort of emotion filled the air, as did music. People sang at the top of their lungs, notes she’d never heard before, and she was certain she heard a few fights break out as well.

Her stomach was in knots, and a voice in her mind whispered that she should go back. But she wasn’t going back. Not ever again. She was done with the old Alice. Love her as she did, the old Alice had been too keen to please her family and the ton, and none of it had worked out.

She’d rather be like Muriel, who had boldly chosen a life that Alice hadn’t even realized one could choose!

The scents of London were ripe and strong, filtering in through the windows. She was tempted to pull out a handkerchief and press it to her nostrils, but she refused to be overly delicate.

She needed to toughen up.

Alice folded her hands together in her lap, digging her gloved fingers into her palms. Her reticule was beside her with a few coins inside to pay the driver. She’d never traveled with money before! Her family had credit wherever she went.

Alice stared straight ahead, determined.

She could have seen Muriel at Heron House at any time. It was true. She could even have summoned her sister to visit. She knew that, but she did not want to alert her family, or all the Briarwoods, to her position or her feelings.

No, she wanted to speak to Muriel alone. To ask her advice, to gain her approval, to finally choose the only path that might lessen some of the strange rebellion wrestling inside her.

She’d wanted to keep Muriel from knowing about her inner turmoil, but now she knew Muriel was the very best person to speak to about this.

And so when the hackney pulled up to the stage door of the theater, as many people were leaving, for the performance had ended not long ago, Alice pushed the door of the hackney open.

It was a fascinating endeavor, for she’d always had a footman before.

She stepped down onto the muddy road and paid the driver, who gave her a quick nod of his head and a pull of his cap.

With a single odd look, the hackney driver tutted, but he clearly felt she was none of his business. He urged his horse on and left her standing in the hustle and bustle that filled the night streets of Covent Garden.

And frankly, the side street she was standing on was nothing like she’d ever experienced before her in life.

The road was inches deep in mud. Spring rains had come.

People milled about drinking from ceramic bottles. Men and women wore clothes covered in patches, but then others were dressed in the most elegant of garments.

Cats chased rats into alleys.

She winced. The front of the theater looked very different with its gilding.

But London, she realized, was a bit of tricky place. One street shone with limestone. Another looked as if one might be pickpocketed or accosted by ladies of the night. She’d only read about such things.

Much to her surprise, she didn’t feel fear… She felt excitement.

Alice squared her shoulders, her cloak dancing about her gown. As if that wasn’t quite enough, she lifted her chin, which caused her bonnet strings to dance on her shoulders. She was made of stern stuff. She could do this.

She was no tremulous jelly, quivering about.

Alice slogged through the mud to the pavement, headed through the stage door, and spoke without hesitation to the man guarding the entry.

His eyes widened for a brief moment at the sight of her, but when she conveyed that she was Muriel’s sister and wished to see her at once, the man with bushy red eyebrows gave her a quick once-over and then a nod.

She did not look like any sort of person who might cause trouble. She never had. A perverse part of her longed to change that. Oh to be the sort of young lady who caused a bit of trouble!

Luckily, she had been made aware that visitors often went backstage to talk to the actors after a performance, to give them their praise, to perhaps ask them to go out for the evening, or to perhaps suggest other more nefarious things.

Clearing her throat, she quickly gazed into the dark pathways of the theater, amazed at the bustle and hum of it all.

Men and women were rushing about with various theatrical pieces and costumes in their hands, returning the theater to rights.

Immediately, her own energy began to shift at the sight of all that commotion.

How could it not in a place that was so full of excitement? The buzz in the air began to erase her own frustrations that her life had gone so terribly wrong.

She weaved her way through the crowded hall but feared she would never find Muriel. So, she stopped and asked a young woman in a mobcap where she could find Mrs. Briarwood’s dressing room.

The young girl cocked her head to the side, her apple cheeks bright in the lamplight, and pointed up the stairs around the corner.

Alice nodded and whispered her thanks.

She clutched her reticule tight and headed up those narrow stairs. She stopped before the door at the top of them and knocked softly.

“Come in,” her sister called.