Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Ravenglass
Geneva’s hand went to her hair just as her gaze slid to Honor, whose own hair was pulled back and tied with a velvet ribbon.
She and Honor had come outside to welcome their guests when they saw the motor passing through the gates.
Grady stopped the car, then got out and held the door for Aunt Clarissa and Rose before walking round the back to unfasten their cases from the luggage rack.
The ladies looked tired and a bit rumpled after the long train journey, and Aunt Clarissa smiled uncertainly, clearly not sure what to expect.
But Rose grinned happily when she saw her cousins, and went directly to Honor.
The two girls were the same age and had always been close.
“It’s so good to see you both,” Geneva said once she had exchanged air kisses with her aunt and cousin and they were ready to come inside.
“I have so much to tell you,” she heard Honor whisper to Rose as they followed Clarissa and Geneva into the foyer. “A lot has happened since I saw you at your father’s funeral.”
Rose, who looked wan in her dark-gray coat and hat, nodded eagerly, likely thrilled to be away from London and around people her own age.
Or any people, really. Clarissa had barely left the house since her husband died and had made certain that Rose adhered to the mourning etiquette with the same zeal.
“You’re looking well,” Aunt Clarissa said. There was an edge to her voice that instantly put Geneva on her guard.
Aunt Clarissa was still a Bellamy, since she had married a cousin, and had always been extremely protective of her older brother and the family name.
She had been fully apprised of the latest happenings and knew all about Jesse’s arrival and Douglas’s illness.
She was not happy and needed Geneva to share her outrage at the situation.
To look well was to wordlessly admit that she wasn’t sufficiently distressed for her aunt’s liking.
“It’s unthinkable,” Clarissa said to Geneva as soon as they were ensconced in the drawing room with a pot of tea and fresh scones.
Although present, Honor was not included in the conversation, since, like Rose, who was silently sipping her tea, she was still thought of as a child.
“To think that this stranger, this American,” she said with a disbelieving shake of the head, “is going to inherit my family home. And poor Douglas. His heart must be broken. I hope he is at least properly looked after.”
“Nurse Jeffries has been taking good care of him. She sits with Father for hours and reads to him, or they listen to music together.”
Clarissa glared at her. “I wasn’t speaking of the nurse. I hear you spent the day with this Jesseph individual. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” This time, Honor was included in the tirade. “Thinking of your own amusement while your poor father is fighting for every breath.”
Geneva bowed her head. Her aunt was right. There was no excuse.
“And what would you have us do?” Honor retorted.
“This is no longer your home, Aunt Clarissa, but it is ours. You and Rose are well provided for, but Geneva and I might find ourselves destitute a few weeks from now. And speaking of amusements, Father wishes to throw a New Year’s Eve party to celebrate his imminent demise. ”
Rose looked at Honor in silent admiration, but Honor was crying now, angry tears sliding down her cheeks.
“So, we were on his errand when we spent the day with Jesse. We bought records to play at the party and new frocks. We must make Father proud, mustn’t we?
Uphold the family honor and present a united front. ”
Clarissa’s mouth fell open, her cheeks turning a mottled red at this unspeakable insolence from one who should be seen but not heard, but Honor didn’t wait to hear what she had to say.
She set down her teacup with a clatter and strode from the room, slamming the drawing room door behind her in wordless punctuation.
“The situation is considerably worse than I expected,” Clarissa said under her breath. “Rose, go to your room.”
“But, Mama,” Rose protested.
Her mother glared at her in a way that left no room for argument, and Rose nodded and quietly left. She closed the door softly behind her, as if to underline the difference between herself and Honor.
“So, what’s he like, this usurper?” Aunt Clarissa demanded as soon as she and Geneva were alone.
“He’s actually rather charming.”
“How innocent you are. All Americans are common and sly by their very nature.”
“He’s doing his best to fit in, Aunt,” Geneva protested.
“Oh, I just bet he is. Imagine what a boon it must be to come into such a fortune. And to become the head of an ancient and noble family. I wager his mother’s people were scraping by in some mining town before Alan came along.
The fool,” she hissed under her breath. “To go and marry some trollop instead of doing his duty to his family. And now here we are, over a barrel.”
“I don’t think Jesse cares about the title.”
“That’s what he wants you to believe,” Aunt Clarissa huffed. “I expect Honor is taken with him?”
She’s smitten, Geneva wanted to say, but thought it would be disloyal to her sister. “She likes him well enough,” she said instead.
“Well, she had better get her silly infatuation under control. There can be no future for the two of them. As the eldest, you must marry the interloper and rescue the family from utter ruin.”
Geneva had no desire to discuss marriage, especially with Clarissa.
Her aunt was a woman ruled by duty and an unshakable conviction of her own importance.
She had likely never acted on impulse in her life.
Douglas had once remarked that Uncle Gerald had probably died simply to escape her.
Despite the unkindness of the observation, Geneva could easily imagine how life with Clarissa might have been utterly devoid of hope or joy.
She was a dry old stick who, now that her husband was gone, devoted all her energies to browbeating her daughter.
Rose, unlike her mother, was lively and curious, genuinely interested in the world around her.
The last time they had all been together—just days before Uncle Gerald had died suddenly of a heart attack—Rose had tried to share her fascination with the recent discovery of Tutankhamun’s tomb.
She had read every article she could find, and her excitement had been both sincere and rather endearing.
Clarissa had shut her down before she could even finish, declaring that no one wished to hear details of the unchristian burial or a culture she considered to be beneath her notice.
Geneva had wanted to hear what Rose had to say, and Douglas had been following the story himself, but no one had dared contradict Aunt Clarissa.
Uncle Gerald had remained silent and offered no support to his daughter.
It was a pattern that had governed their household for as long as Geneva could remember.
She suspected poor Rose could hardly wait to marry and live a life of her own, far from her domineering mother and that stifling, joyless house where one was expected to apologize for laughing too loud or daring to make a joke.
“At least Honor still looks respectable,” Clarissa said when Geneva did not respond to her earlier statement.
“But I don’t?”
“Your hair is a disgrace. You should pin it up.”
“I will not. And it’s too short anyway.”
“This fad will quickly pass. Mark my words. Resembling an orphan after a bout of typhoid fever is not a fashion trend that will endure.”
“Is that what you think I look like?” Geneva asked, aghast.
“You look more like some debauched French artist’s model.”
She of course had to specify that the model was French, making her that much more disreputable.
“Much better, then,” Geneva said tartly.
“Next thing you’ll be putting your bare arms and knees on display.
These newfangled fashions make women look no more respectable than ladies of the evening.
What’s next, I ask you? Already some younger women are abandoning the corset.
They may as well go out naked. As long as I’m alive, Rose will maintain decorum.
No giving in to vulgar modern trends on my watch. ”
“Times are changing, Aunt,” Geneva said. She was tired of her aunt already, and she’d been there only an hour.
“Perhaps. But there is still such a thing as propriety. A woman must not go chasing modern ideals, for they will inevitably lead her to ruin. Honor, duty, family—those are the things that matter. But I suppose if you marry that American, you will no longer trouble yourself with such considerations. He will corrupt you with his uncivilized ways.”
“Jesse has lovely manners,” Geneva protested, but Aunt Clarissa shook her head, as if such a thing simply weren’t possible. He was American, after all, one step up from a barbarian with matted hair and rotted teeth, dressed in nothing but animal skins.
“I do hope he doesn’t decide to indulge Honor’s whims. She must attend a finishing school if she has any hope of finding a suitable husband.”
“Father offered to send Honor to a finishing school in Switzerland, but she refused to go.”
“Of course she did, which is why Douglas should never have offered her the choice. Rose will be off to Geneva in the summer. She would have started school this year, but with her father passing there was the period of mourning to observe.”
“Lengthy mourning periods are positively Victorian,” Geneva said. “And Rose is a young girl. She needs to spend time with people her own age.”
“One must show proper respect. And there’s no greater sorrow than the loss of a parent.” Her aunt shot her a sly look. “Which is why you must marry while you can.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You don’t have much time, Geneva. Once your father passes, you will have to wait a year, and who knows what that upstart will think up during that time. He could marry some cheap tease, and then where will you and Honor be? You must ensure that the title and the estate remain in the family.”
“Aunt, even if Jesse and I were to announce our engagement tonight, we would not be able to marry for a month, since the banns would need to be read.”
“These things can be expedited,” Aunt Clarissa said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Many a marriage has been rushed due to a time constraint. And your father can always ask for special dispensation. Under the circumstances, the bishopric would happily agree.”
“We’re not under a time constraint,” Geneva protested. “And I will not be rushed.”
“We’ll see,” Clarissa said under her breath. “I mean to have a word with Douglas as soon as he’s awake.”
“Please excuse me,” Geneva said when she heard Honor and Rose in the foyer, and opened the door. Their excited voices and happy giggles carried through to the drawing room.
The two girls were smiling, but Rose wilted like her namesake in hot sun as soon as her mother’s disapproving scowl settled on her.
“We’re just going for a walk,” Rose said.
Clarissa nodded. “You’ll never hear me disparage fresh air and exercise, Rose. But do maintain decorum. You are, after all, still in mourning. And your uncle is gravely ill.”
Honor looked at Geneva, and her gaze seemed to say, Well, this is going to be a jolly Christmas.
“I will see you all at dinner,” Geneva said and practically sprinted from the room. She’d been chastised enough for one afternoon.