Chapter Nine
“I am to go driving in the park today with Thaddeus and Eloise, Aunt Gwen,” Alice said to her aunt across the dining table.
It had been two days since Lord Stafford had called to see her. Two days of mulling over what she’d learned from him, which if she was honest, was not a great deal that she didn’t already know.
But one thing had come clear to her. Jackson must be stopped for those who had suffered at his hand in the past, and those like the children at the charity school who still could be harmed.
“Lovely, dear. Make sure you take a scarf. I fear there could be a chill in the air today.”
Her aunt was not a morning person. She rarely woke before ten and then stayed in bed drinking tea and reading until she was ready to face the world…namely, Alice, because she was a morning person who woke ready to start the day the minute her eyes opened.
They’d established a routine since Aunt Gwen had moved in after Charles’s death that was comfortable to both.
“There is to be a picnic at Lord and Lady Sinclair’s soon, dear. We shall go, as there will be plenty to do.”
“Lovely,” Alice said with the same enthusiasm she would have for eating pilchards—very little.
If there was one thing she loathed more than a ball, it was a picnic.
People sat about on blankets eating and chatting, while watching each other for the slightest indiscretions.
Society fed on gossip, and thus far she’d managed to avoid being fodder for the more voracious members, but Alice was sure that given time, she’d slip up in some way.
“There will be croquet, and cards, I believe.”
Alice pulled off the crust of her toast and ate the middle so she didn’t growl.
“Crusts are good for you, and make your hair curl, Alice.”
“No, they are not,” Alice teased her aunt. “They’re just bread like the middle parts, and I already have a curl in my hair.” She’d never eaten crusts since she was little and choked on one. Charles had whacked her on the back, dislodging it.
“What plans do you have for the remainder of the day, Aunt?” Alice asked.
“I am at a particularly tense part in my latest novel, so I will retire to the parlor and read that, if you do not need me.”
“Well then, enjoy your book, and I shall ready myself to depart.”
After kissing her aunt’s cheek, she headed for the door.
“Alice.”
Turning, she found Aunt Gwen’s eyes on her.
“Are you happy, my dear?”
“Why are you asking me that?” Alice tried to make light of it, because the deep ache inside her chest told her that was never likely to happen again. Not the kind of happiness that reached every inch of her body. She could laugh and smile, and be content. But happiness? No.
“I worry about you. Charles has been gone a while now, but I fear you still feel his loss keenly.”
“He was my brother,” Alice said with more force than required.
Her aunt’s eyes softened. “I know, my love. Just as I know you loved him very much. Seeing as you had hopeless parents, you and he were very close, and I do not say that lightly, as one was my sister.”
“It’s all right, Aunt Gwen—”
“It’s not, dear. But alas, there was little I could do about it.”
“Why are we having this discussion now?”
Her aunt’s eyes looked sad. “Because I see the turmoil inside you when you believe no one is looking. I worry for you, Alice. Worry that you will never find happiness, or marry—”
“I have no wish to wed.” The words came out flat and cold.
Her aunt sighed.
“There is no need to worry about me, Aunt Gwen.” Alice softened her tone. “Really. I am fine, and happy here with you. If you are happy, that is?”
“Of course I’m happy. I live here in this wonderful townhouse with you. I get to visit with my friends. Before I came to live with you, my life was uncertain. I just worry about you, Alice.”
She went back to her aunt and hugged her close. “There really is no need. I am fine, and happy with everything, just the way it is. Now I must hurry to change, or the twins will be here, and I will not be ready.”
Her aunt rarely asked her questions like that.
In fact, for the most part they just rubbed along together, sharing a house, yet doing what they wanted.
Why had she asked those questions of Alice now?
Had someone been talking to her? Alice hoped not; she didn’t need anyone meddling in her affairs now.
After changing, she made her way back down to the front entrance, where her butler now stood.
“A missive has arrived for you, my lady,” he said, holding it out to her.
“Thank you, Phipps.” Taking it, Alice opened it.
A man meeting the description of Kenneth Jackson entered the Black Dog in Wapping. He’s been seen there twice now, and asking plenty of questions. I will meet you there at midnight.
It could be another dead end, Alice thought, tucking the note into her reticule. Or it could lead her closer to Jackson. Either way, she would be attending, even if she must enter the Black Dog in Wapping, a place she’d never been before.
Usually, she met an informant in the small park, a ten-minute walk from here, with Ezra. Alice wondered why now she was being told to go to the alehouse?
It matters not, Alice, only that you have another lead. What she had to do now was notify Lord Stafford, or she could deal with it and speak to him tomorrow?
Then she remembered the solemn nod he’d given her when Alice had asked if he too had suffered at Blackwood Hall. He had a right to know what she’d found, just as she did to avenge her brother. She had to tell him, as he’d promised to tell her if he had a lead, as had she.
A knock sounded on the door, and Phipps opened it, and there stood Thaddeus, looking his usual well put together self.
“Imagine my shock that a Thomas twin is punctual,” Alice said.
“Yes, well, we won’t be making a habit of it. My reputation will be destroyed.” Thaddeus leaned in to kiss her cheek. “You look beautiful as always.”
“And you look handsome as always.”
He bowed deeply and then held out his hand.
“Where is Maggie?”
She turned at these words to find Ezra standing behind her with Phipps.
“If you will cast your eyes to the phaeton, you will see my dear friend Miss Thomas already seated there, so I do not need Maggie, Ezra. Stop fretting.”
Her footman stepped out of the doorway and looked at the phaeton. Eloise waved as he glared at her.
“Take care of her,” he then said to Thaddeus. “You’ll not turn sharp corners with her on the outside in that thing.”
“Enough, Ezra,” Alice gritted out while glaring at her footman.
“I will ensure she is returned to you in the condition she left,” Thaddeus said solemnly.
They then made their way to the carriage. He helped her up, and she took the seat on the outside. It wasn’t exactly a squeeze, but if she wasn’t close with the Thomas twins, it wouldn’t be a comfortable ride.
“He’s still watching us, isn’t he?” Thaddeus whispered.
“Pay him no mind,” Alice said, waving to Phipps and Ezra who were both watching as they rolled away.
“I’ve never known servants who protect their mistress quite like your household staff do, Alice.”
Alice hissed out a breath between her teeth. Ezra had declared in curt words his displeasure when they’d arrived home after the night she’d seen Lord Stafford fighting. About impropriety and danger, and any number of other things she could no longer remember.
“I should fire all of them.”
“No, you won’t,” Eloise scoffed. “I think it’s rather lovely they care for you so much.”
Secretly, she did also, even though sometimes their meddlesome ways annoyed her excessively.
“We play cards some nights. All of us in the household. My aunt is a whizz and beats us constantly.”
“I can’t imagine playing cards with any of my father’s staff. They’re all stuffy,” Thaddeus said.
Alice looked around her as the twins discussed which of their staff would unbend enough to play cards with them.
The day was a warm one, and it showed London at its best. Sunlight glinted off the windowpanes, and people stood about enjoying its warmth.
She preferred the wide open spaces of the country, but sometimes, like now, she thought London had its benefits. Anything you wanted was right there. Sweets, which she was partial to, and teashops.
But then so were the poverty and squalor.
Young children who had hollow cheeks with their eyes too big in their faces were everywhere.
Alice and her aunt had joined numerous charities to try and put their efforts into helping some, but sometimes she feared the task was too great.
However, her latest acquisition, she hoped, would aid some of those in desperate need of medical attention.
“Eloise, do you and your brother involve yourself in charities?”
“Pardon?” Alice’s friend looked at her.
“Father wishes to purchase a property to set up a clinic to offer medical care to those that don’t have access to it.
” Alice always had to use her father’s name, even with her friends, as no one could believe that she would actually want to be involved in such things.
Business was not something with which a woman should sully her hands.
“Pardon?” Eloise said again, looking shocked.
“You have to know there are people out there who cannot just send word they need a doctor as we do?”
“I—ah—well as to that, Alice. It’s not something I’ve thought about,” Eloise said.
She’d been wrong to bring this up. Her friends had been raised in a wealthy family, with parents who loved them, and the darker side of life had yet to touch them. It hadn’t exactly touched Alice either until her brother died.
Then she’d felt restless and needed to do more to forget the pain of losing Charles. It had been Maggie who had told her about the plight of her cousin Eunice and those in the tenement where she lived. How there was no hope for her now she’d fallen ill.
“Please forget I brought it up. I’m not sure what I was thinking,” Alice said. “’Tis a lovely day for a ride through the park.”
“Forget you brought up a subject like people are suffering as they cannot access medical help?” Thaddeus said, looking around his sister to Alice. “I hardly think that is something we can dismiss with ease.”
“The problem as I see it, Alice, is that we rarely think about anyone other than ourselves,” Eloise said, frowning.
“You’re two of the best people I know,” Alice said.
“Perhaps, but perhaps not,” Eloise added.
Had she just ruined her friendship with the two people she actually liked in society? Why did you say anything?
The problem was that, at times, the life she lived felt obscenely privileged.
Surrounded by people who were spoiled and indifferent, Alice could not help but feel disgusted knowing that while the wealthy squandered their comforts, most of London went without.
She had seen the seedier side of the city on her visits to the orphanages with her aunt, and those images lingered.
“Explain about this clinic,” Eloise said, waving her hand in front of Alice.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Well, clearly it matters to you,” Thaddeus said. “Or you would not have mentioned it.”
Alice thought about what she should say, and decided only the truth would do now. If she lost her friendship with the twins after that, then were they ever really her friends?
“My maid Maggie, who is married to Ezra, the footman who glared at you, Thaddeus, approached me one day about her sister who was unwell.”
“He does have a formidable glare,” Thaddeus added.
“Eunice, her sister, had a fever which was from a sore on her leg. She would have died, had I not had her brought to my father’s townhouse and insisted a doctor tend her,” Alice said.
“And this started you thinking about a clinic?” Thaddeus asked.
“It did, and so Father and I decided to purchase a building and set it up in an area where those in need could access it.”
“That is a wonderful idea, Alice, and one I would never have thought of.” Eloise looked curious now. “Mother does some charity work with the orphans, and Father is a patron to a few things.”
“And we live an indolent life and do little for anyone other than ourselves,” her brother added.
“I did not mean—”
“We will be involved,” Eloise cut her words off. “In some capacity, and we will be discussing the matter with Father.”
“Will we?” Thaddeus asked as he navigated them around a cart filled with something smelly.
Fish, Alice thought.
“We will,” Eloise said. “You have reminded me that we have much, and others don’t.”
“Many will think it is not right, what I’m doing,” Alice cautioned her friends. “I have no wish for you to fall foul of your family for helping me. Perhaps another charity—”
“So it’s quite all right for you to fall foul of people, and yet not us?” Thaddeus demanded.
“I don’t really have anyone to worry about. I care little what society thinks of me,” Alice said.
“But you still have to live within its confines, as do we,” Eloise added. “We will help, and you will tell us how when the time comes. My mind is made up.”
“Well then, if your mind is made up, far be it from either of us to change it,” Thaddeus said.
“You couldn’t even if you tried,” Eloise scoffed.
And they were off again, and in fact their argument lasted until they drove through the gates, and into the park.