Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
“ T onight has been ever so wonderful,” Aunt Agatha exclaimed for what felt like the fifteenth time since leaving the museum. “I do think the ladies of the ton are warming up to our presence. Don’t you think, dear Richard?”
“Er, in some ways,” Richard rumbled. “But I do believe you addressed some people wrongly, my dear.”
“What?” Agatha’s tone went up an octave. “If that were the case, why did you not stop me?”
While the two argued, Alice stared out the window; the shrouded shapes in the dark night were as muddled as her thoughts. A part of her felt ashamed; if her parents had any idea of the things she had gotten herself into, she knew they would be sorely disappointed that she had been caught admiring such a lush and decadent lifestyle.
Even with that, another feeling burgeoned—she knew what she’d wanted to give Edward; the rigid cloak of control , Edward had called it. God, she wanted to be free.
From the moment their parents had passed, when she was merely eight-and-ten, she had tended to Penelope, refurbishing old gowns into new ones, managing the farthings and the pennies, minding the garden, minding the house, and cooking supper. When had she allowed a moment to herself?
Clarity struck her like a ray of sunshine piercing through the clouds. She did want what Edward had to give… but she could not accept it, not on those dishonorable terms.
The sweetest ache stirred in her heart, and her throat stung from the memory of how she’d felt in his arms. How perfectly they had fitted together. Suddenly, she wanted to cry.
“Alice,” Penelope asked in a hushed tone. “Are you all right?”
“Just tired,” she replied, her voice cracking at the end. “I feel utterly fatigued.”
“Have you been sleeping well?”
“No,” she answered.
“Is it that time of the—”
“No!” Alice snapped; her tone was unduly harsh. She’d meant to keep it between them but the whole carriage had gone silent. Mellowing her tone, she said, “Not tonight, Penelope. I have a lot of things on my mind. I just need to sort things out.”
“I cannot fathom what could ever be worrying you,” Eliza replied snidely. “You have the catch of the Season.”
“I do not.”
“No, she is right, dear Alice,” Aunt Agatha tittered happily. “We know Duke Valhaven is handing his title over to his brother, so if you do marry, you will be a Duchess. I cannot think of anything better for this family, can you, dear? Our dear niece, one of the most prominent women in the land. La!”
“Aren’t we putting the cart before the horse here?” Alice said pointedly. “His Lordship has yet to mention marriage.”
“Then you should start dropping hints,” her aunt nodded sagely. “Such as how you would decorate your rooms and the colors you’d love to see on pillows.
“Perhaps even mention the meals you would love to have made for him. Men operate better when they have directions, dear. They are not the masters of the subtle art,” her aunt pressed. “When was the last time you took a gander at The Lady for the Lord by Dame de LaMontague? The practical lessons there are priceless, dear, especially the ones about leading the house.”
As her aunt rattled on about a dusty old manual, Alice pondered what to do when Benedict came by on the morrow. Nothing came to mind, so she put the matter off to the next day when she had a clearer head to think the matter over.
“That is what you should do, dear Alice,” her aunt said as the carriage entered their drive.
Even while she had not heard a word of what her aunt had said, Alice nodded. “Yes, Aunt.”
Inside, Alice ignored Eliza’s scowl and went to her rooms with Penelope behind her. She invited her sister in wordlessly, knowing that she had questions.
The moment the door closed, she hugged her sister, “I am sorry about snapping at you. It was not any fault of yours.”
It’s all right,” Penelope murmured while sitting on the edge of Alice’s bed, “What is the matter?”
“I don’t know what to do with Lord Brampton,” she said bleakly. “I thought we had a connection, but now that I have spent time with him, I am not as certain.”
“Why?” Penelope asked.
“I don’t think he will love me the way I have envisioned for so long,” Alice admitted. “And he is still very young, you know. University men are not known for their fealty to their wives, especially when they are so young.”
Shaking her head, Penelope said, “I don’t think he will stray, Alice.”
“I think I’d prefer someone older,” Alice admitted while unpinning her hair. “Someone who is past those years and is mature, but not over the hill, if you get my meaning.”
“A couple of years ago, you didn’t have the leeway to choose,” Penelope laughed. “Or was that two months ago.”
“Both,” Alice sighed.
“Well, I hope you’ll find the answer soon,” Penelope stood. “Aunt already has her heart set on the two of you marrying.”
“I hope she hasn’t started publishing the banns yet,” Alice replied.
“She most likely has, and we don’t know.” Her sister laughed her way out the door.
While sipping her weak tea, Alice listened attentively to Benedict’s recount of his week, the trials of his studies, and the outings he and his fellow classmates took.
“I think I need to start carrying an ice pack with me when I finish rowing,” he shuddered. “My arm felt like it was ripped out of its socket the last time.”
She sat the cup down. “You know, my mother would make salves that can ease such pain, and I think I have her notebook around here somewhere. Perhaps I should unearth it.”
His brows lifted, “As much as I appreciate the gesture, it is simpler to buy such remedies from an apothecary.”
Dropping her gaze, Alice worried her lip. “My lord, I—I do not know how to state this, but do you feel the connection we have, or had is—”
A brisk knock on the door drew her attention; her uncle’s footman was at the door, “Pardon me, my lord and misses. Lord Rutledge is here to see Miss Penelope.”
Her gaze flitted to Penelope who was sitting quietly in the corner, her back to the man. “Send him in, then.”
“Yes, Miss.” He left the doorway and soon enough returned with a maid in tow and Rutledge. The man looked rough—even while he looked the part of a gentleman in a dark grey cutaway jacket and blue brocade waistcoat, there was stubble on his cheek and his eyes looked wild.
Penelope stood, “My lord?”
“There you are,” he grinned. “I have been thinking about you.”
“Have you?” Penelope asked. “What about?”
Alice looked over to Benedict, who was looking at Rutledge with concern, his lips flattened with displeasure. “This is not good.”
Rutledge flopped on a sofa, his head lolling back before he straightened and blinked twice, his words holding a hint of a slur. “Do you know how many women have thrown themselves at me, trying to coerce me or bribe or even guilt me into marrying them?
“If you aren’t aware, it’s a long list, and you were at the near bottom, but thanks to powers that be—” he fumbled into his inner pocket and produced a ring, “—you have your wish. You will be my bride-to-be. Coming from a long line of traders, your options are rather limited.”
He tossed the ring to Penelope, but it landed short. “Put it on and we can get married. It is your wish after all. You have been casting your wiles at me this entire Season, you little tart.”
Alice felt a cold spike run through her and for a moment, she could not think of one thing to do—but Penelope did. She scooped the ring up and dropped it on his lap. “I am not a tart, your lordship, and if that is how you propose to me, ill-mannered and stinking of blue ruin, I must reject your offer.”
Rutledge’s face turned purple. “You dare to refuse me? When all this time you’d been tripping over your heels to get my attention?”
“That was before I realized how much of a lout you are,” Penelope snapped. “You are a good-for-naught womanizer with no morals or principles. I wish I could go back to the day when I thought you were upstanding and did pine for your attention. Now though, I see who you are. Leave me be.”
Shoving to his feet, Rutledge swayed, but he grabbed Penelope’s arm and tugged her closer. “We are to marry or my guts will be garters and my skin leather for boots. Now come, you little bitch—”
Benedict was on his feet and dragging Rutledge off her, damn nearly shoving the drunk man into the wall. “The lady said to leave.”
Shaking his head like a wet dog, Rutledge sneered. “Who the devil do you think you are?”
“The next Duke of Valhaven, and if you dare touch that woman again, I will have you jailed,” Benedict ordered.
“ Woman ?” Rutledge sneered. “She is no woman. Just a fast little bitch, good for nothing but breeding.”
“That’s enough,” Benedict snapped and yanked Rutledge away. “Get out of this house, now!”
“Make me!” Rutledge swung a fist and Alice screamed in fear, but Benedict adroitly dodged the blow and landed three ones of his own, in Rutledge’s ribs, belly, and the last one to his chin that sent the louse flying into an end table.
The wood cracked and snapped under his weight and went down with him, leaving the man dazed and barely moving on the ground.
Benedict grabbed him by the lapels and snarled. “If you think I will let you disrespect this lady in her home, I am going to throw you out myself.”
Rushing to her sister’s side, Alice hugged her tight, even more when Penelope started to cry. Benedict was maneuvering Rutledge out of the room and down the stairs, while Alice thanked her stars that her aunt, uncle, and Eliza were not home.
She didn’t know what excuse she would have given them if they had been.
“It will be all right,” Alice tried to comfort Penelope, but her words were hollow. “It will be all right, Penelope. You will be better off without him.”
The cutting sobs that wracked her sister made Alice’s heart twist in two; she had thought—she had been so sure—that getting Rutledge to do right by her sister would make it all right. How wrong she had been.
Now, the bright picture she had seen for Penelope crumbled like cake before her face; if her sister was with child—this would not end well.
Stomping boots had her twisting to see Benedict entering the room, his face thunderous. For a moment, she could see the very same expression on Edward’s face when she told him what happened with Rutledge.
The rose-tinted spectacles she wore fell from her face and now, she saw the truth; the man would have never done right by Penelope. Her sister would have lived unhappily for the rest of her life.
Benedict was quiet, only looking on, while she tried to calm her sister; it took a while for Penelope to stop shedding tears. She was taken aback when he came forward and handed Penelope a glass of water.
“If it is any consolation, Miss Penelope,” Benedict said quietly, “it is better for you to know this now than if you did marry. The man is a morally bankrupt peasant. Apparently, the man is buried in debt. Thank heavens you escaped his clutches—he would have only dragged you down with him.”
Pressing the back of her hand to her eyes, Penelope whispered, “I was in love with him.”
“A lot of women are,” Benedict replied, a tender expression coasting over his face. “I must laud you though, you have come the closest to getting any commitment from him. You must be a very strong woman.”
A half laugh came from Penelope. “Not strong enough I suppose. A stronger woman would have seen through his pretenses and bravado to find the empty soul behind it.”
“You are better off without him than with,” Benedict said, his eyes flittering to Alice. “Would the two of you like to get ices at Gunther’s?” he asked. “I think a bit of fresh air would do us some good.”
Knowing it was Penelope’s right to agree or not, Alice waited patiently for her to reply. “Thank you, my lord,” Penelope murmured. “But I wouldn’t ask this of you.”
“You didn’t,” Benedict replied. “It is my delight to help.”
“Would you excuse us for a moment?” Alice asked, and with his nod, stood while holding Penelope’s hand.
Gently, she ushered her from the room to their bedchambers and before anything else, wrapped her sister in a tight hug. “I am so sorry, Penelope, I never thought he’d do such a thing to you.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Penelope said quietly. “I asked you to fix a problem I made for myself, and you did the best you could, Alice. You cannot see the future, sister. None of this is your fault.”
“It is not yours either,” Alice said strongly. “Men like him are not worth your tears. Now, let’s change your dress.”
While taking out a blue walking dress, Penelope sighed, “I can see why you like Lord Brampton. He seems to be a very thoughtful and attentive man. He seems to have all the makings of a good husband.”
Alice gave a small smile. “He does, doesn’t he?”
But I feel more for his brother than for him. What am I doing? “Let’s get you ready then.”