The Solicitation

by Bella Bryce

  Bennett replied, “Enjoy my mother’s company, don’t allow her more than one glass of wine or she will sleep through the concert. Alice is being a very good girl,” Bennett replied. He locked his iPhone and returned it to his blazer pocket before standing up and walking to Alice.

  “Come here,” Bennett said, putting his hands behind his back.

  Alice turned away from the wall and removed her hands from her head as she walked over to Bennett.

  “Your father has just texted me and asked if you were behaving yourself,” Bennett said.

  “May I ask your reply?” Alice asked, timidly.

  “I told him you were being a good girl,” Bennett said. “Because you will be for me, won’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir,” Alice replied, quietly.

  “I thought as much. The next issue I wish to address with you is how you are not greeting me properly. Has your father not taught you to kiss your elders and say hello?” Bennett asked, looking down at Alice.

  “Sort of, Sir,” Alice said.

  “Sort of?” Bennett asked, frowning.

  “He said I’m to do so, but I don’t know when to do it,” Alice said.

  Bennett thought Brayden, if ever he has made a mistake in the last six weeks, it would have been right there; overlooking the fact that Alice wasn’t consistent in how she greeted people.

  “It is very simple, when you are at home and a guest arrives in the foyer, you will more than likely be waiting for them. If you are, you will stand beside your father and wait for him to greet the guests first, and then follow suit immediately. For people you know, such as my parents, Uncle Damian and myself we expect to have a cuddle and a kiss on each cheek with a verbal greeting using our proper titles. For guests or people you’ve not met before, you should curtsey as your father has taught you and greet them verbally by their title, followed by ‘how do you do?’ It is essentially the same for when you visit other people in their homes. But you must never hesitate or miss out on greeting everyone individually. That is extremely rude and gives the impression that you do not care to see anyone.”

  Alice felt guilty, not having done much of that because Brayden had allowed her to be slightly shy. Bennett made a mental note to address it with Brayden; it wasn’t like him to allow small details to slip.

  “Might I add that unless your father told you that to curtsey is only for meeting new people, you should continue to do so when greeting or departing on all occasions, and until he tells you otherwise,” Bennett said.

  Alice wrinkled her nose.

  “Please don’t make me,” Alice said.

  “I absolutely will make you. I shan’t be introducing you as my niece to other gentleman we went to school with unless I know you will do so properly,” Bennett said.

  Alice bit her tongue, because she would only protest and she didn’t want soap in her mouth again.

  “And when I arrived earlier you neither greeted me nor my mother properly. I want to see it now,” Bennett said, pointing at the floor. “Curtsey to me and then come and give me a kiss and say ‘good afternoon, Uncle Bennett.”

  Alice gritted her teeth, but did as she was told. Bennett lowered himself for the part where she needed to kiss him once on each cheek.

  “Good girl. That is exactly how you should have done it. Now I want to see it five times more to ensure you will not forget,” Bennett mandated.

  Alice’s eyes widened, unbelieving, although she did so without complaint. Bennett told Alice to show him to her bedroom, and he followed her along down the corridor. Bennett went to Alice’s wardrobe and looked through her dresses, choosing the pale blue, short dress that Alice had previously despised when Brayden made her wear it for the first time.

  “Change into this, and retrieve a pair of knee socks,” Bennett said.

  Alice went behind the folding screen and changed into the short dress, her plaid bloomers sticking out of the bottom. She emerged from behind the screen and walked to Bennett and turned so that he could button the back up.

  “Haven’t you any white bloomers, those do not match,” he said, looking down at her pale little legs sticking out from beneath the dress.

  “Yes, Sir,” Alice said, and retrieved a pair before returning to the screen and changing.

  Alice’s hair had been down except for a small section that had been secured with a black hair ribbon on the side. Bennett told her to take it out and put her hair into pigtails. Bennett himself tied two white ribbons over the hair bands when she had done so.

  “Now I can properly look after you. Come along,” he said, taking Alice’s hand.

  Bennett looked at his watch - it had taken over an hour to ‘deal’ with Alice, and it was nearly dinnertime. At Greystone, Bennett and his family ate at 7 p.m.

  At Waldorf, they ate at half six. Tonight, they were eating at 6 p.m. It wasn’t long before Wellesley called them through and Bennett took the seat at the head of the table. Alice wanted to tell Bennett to get out if Brayden’s chair, but she knew it would only cause trouble. She kept her comment to herself and took her own seat. Besides that, Brayden had told her before leaving that Bennett was in his place whilst he was away, so it was an automatic loss on her part for any argument that started with something like, “you can’t sit in my father’s chair.” He really could, and he did.

  “Red please, Wellesley, the Bordeaux,” Bennett said, when presented with several choices.

  Wellesley took the wine away to be opened and returned with a small sample for Bennett to taste. Alice waited, having grown accustomed to seeing Brayden swirl his around the glass and make a decision before drinking any more. Considering Alice had spent eighteen years never really seeing anyone ‘properly’ drink or taste wine, it had only taken the six weeks she’d lived in Brayden’s house to become used to it. It was completely normal for her to wait patiently whilst he decided on the one that he wanted to have with his dinner.

  “Lemonade, please,” Alice said, when Wellesley looked at Alice.

  “Alice will have water, no ice and no lemon,” Bennett chimed in, before taking a drink of his wine and replacing it next to his place setting. He straightened his already perfect cutlery.

  “Yes, Sir,” Wellesley said, and left the dining room.

  Alice frowned and looked at Bennett.

  “Uncle Bennett, I always have lemonade with ice and a slice of lemon at dinner,” Alice said.

  “Not tonight. You don’t need fizzy, sugary drinks. Besides, I think you’ve been quite naughty this evening so you’ll have no extras,” he said, turning to look at her.

  Alice breathed heavily through her nose and looked away. She really wanted to tell him where exactly he could go, but he would probably carry her upstairs before she finished her sentence. Alice was learning rather quickly that Bennett didn’t show much grace at all; it was an even sharper learning curve than it had been so far with Brayden!

  “And if I hear so much as an argument I will put you to bed with a sore backside. Am I perfectly understood?” Bennett asked, seriously, as Wellesley placed a tall glass of chilled water in front of Alice’s place setting.

  “Yes, Sir,” Alice responded, quietly, and then rolled her eyes as soon as Bennett turned to drink more of his wine.

  Dinner was served and Alice wrinkled her nose; she really hated fish. She had never liked fish no matter how good Chef was at both disguising and enhancing it. Of course, he would prepare such a meal the very night Bennett was to stay for dinner, and without Brayden to at least give her a bit of leeway.

  “Uncle Bennett?” Alice asked, after he had said the dinner prayer.

  “Yes?” he asked, whilst he put his napkin in his lap.

  Alice’s eyes turned red and she started to feel as though she would cry, afraid that Bennett would be rather harsh on her as soon as she tried to confess that she didn’t want to eat her meal.

  “I, I don’t-, I can’t eat this, I really don’t like fish,” she said.

  Bennett wasn’t sure
why Alice seemed to be getting upset, but he looked at her plate and then up at her.

  “Alice, don’t be ungrateful,” Bennett said, picking up his cutlery.

  “Please don’t make me eat it, Uncle Bennett,” she said.

  “And what do you do when your father is home and you are served fish?” Bennett asked, raising his eyebrows.

  Alice didn’t want to respond to that question. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, which were tearing up.

  “I think he requires you to eat at least half of it, I’m sure,” Bennett said, putting his cutlery down. “Come, come, there is no need for tears. I haven’t given you a reason to cry yet, my dear. Go on and eat half of it and then you may leave the rest,” Bennett said, in a tone that told her she had better be satisfied with his compromise. Something told her Bennett never compromised and he had just done a rare thing.

  “Yes, Sir,” Alice said.

  Alice struggled to eat the haddock, but she finished her roasted asparagus and hasselback potatoes. She had barely eaten half when Bennett told her she could stop. Alice was entirely relieved and sat back in her chair, hoping she wouldn’t be sick with the horrid taste of fish in her mouth. Bennett, on the other hand, loved fish and his plate was clean by the time Alice stopped.

  “Neither of us will have dessert this evening, Wellesley, thank you. A tea trolley in half an hour in the drawing room, please,” Bennett said, and then pulled out Alice’s chair and signalled for her to leave with him.

  Alice didn’t like the way Bennett operated his mealtime in the least. He skipped dessert, he waited half an hour until coffee and/or tea . . . it was bizarre. Brayden always stayed at the table and they had dessert and tea, or Brayden had coffee, and then they left the dining room. But never before.

  “Do you play chess?” Bennett asked, when they entered the drawing room.

  “No, Sir,” Alice responded, not interested in the least.

  “It’s time you learn then, my girl. I shan’t have a niece who can’t play me at chess,” Bennett said.

  “Why not?” Alice asked, laughing slightly.

  “Because it’s what I want,” Bennett said, turning to her. “And I can’t introduce you to our school friends without having something to boast about.”

  Alice was taken aback by his arrogance. She visibly raised her eyebrows and her mouth opened.

  “Are you being completely serious?” she asked.

  “You haven’t a clue have you, darling?” he asked, as he pulled out a chair at the chess table.

  Alice stayed where she was standing, even more stunned than she was the moment before.

  “You’ve not moved in these circles, you clearly don’t understand how they work. It’s very simple; everyone tries to outdo one another, they boast about their children, their nieces and nephews, themselves. If you wish to be taken seriously as Brayden’s daughter then you must play chess. You must also ride horse, learn a musical instrument, speak a second and perhaps a third language, be charming and able to carry a conversation with all manner and ages of people,” Bennett said, all the while he was arranging the pieces on the chessboard.

  “It seems a rather trivial life, always aiming to please and outdo other people, Uncle Bennett,” Alice declared, as she walked to the chess table and sat down.

  “Perhaps it is, darling, but it is our place,” Bennett said, looking up at Alice. For a moment she thought she could see a glimpse of unhappiness in Bennett’s eye, but if she did, it disappeared just as quickly.

  “Now then, I shall teach you to play so that we will have something to do when you visit,” Bennett said, straightening his pieces.

  “Can’t we just chat when I come to see you?” she asked, innocently.

  “Do you know anything of politics, investments, business, world affairs or corporate responsibility?” he asked, almost without thinking, and seemingly hopeful about it.

  Alice looked up at the ceiling before returning her eyes to Bennett.

  “No, Sir,” she answered.

  “Chess it is then,” Bennett said, and began explaining the rules and purpose of each piece on the board.

  At precisely half an hour since dinner, Wellesley entered the drawing room pushing a silver trolley on wheels with tea. Alice’s attention was on the trolley from the doorway until it stopped near the sofa, wing chairs and roaring fire until Bennett snapped his fingers.

  “Alice, pay attention. Now, look at your Queen – she’s in rather a predicament isn’t she?” Bennett asked, pointing.

  “Which one is she again?” Alice asked, looking at the board.

  Bennett closed his eyes momentarily, trying to remain calm and patient.

  “Right, tea,” he said, and pushed his chair away from the table.

  Alice hid a smile; ignorance had worked. She knew perfectly well which piece was her Queen. She walked across the drawing room and sat beside Bennett, who had indicated she was to take the vacant seat beside him on the sofa nearest the fire. Wellesley poured for each of them and handed the cup and saucer over. Alice instinctively sat up straight as she received hers, with her feet flat on the floor.

  “Uncle Bennett?” Alice asked.

  “Yes?” Bennett replied, after receiving his cup and saucer.

  “How long are you going to stay at Greystone Hall?” she asked.

  Bennett looked at Alice, wondering what had prompted such a question. He had decided the evening her and Brayden stayed for dinner that he would leave his parents’ home before the end of the month and purchase a property. It had been the incident with his mother that evening that had made him realise he needed to take his trust fund and spend it on a place for himself.

  “Why is that?” he asked.

  “Well you can’t wash my mouth out with soap under the watchful eye of your mother, now can you?” Alice asked, glancing at him.

  Bennett put his cup and saucer on the coffee table in front of him. He felt slightly uncomfortable at the accusation, but completely hid it.

  “I would wash your mouth out with soap in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, my girl if I deemed it necessary,” he said, looking at her.

  “Yes, Uncle Bennett,” Alice said.

  Bennett wasn’t amused with Alice suddenly using the confident tone and phrasing of her chronological age. He had to keep reminding himself she was actually eighteen years old, because it threw him off completely when she responded in such a way. He really saw her as a ten year old and the change of attitude was off-putting.

  “Indeed. Finish your tea, you’re going to bed straight after,” he said.

  Alice ignored the fact that it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the evening and she was being marched up the grand staircase to her bedroom. Bennett opened her bedroom door for her and stepped aside for her to enter first. Celia was waiting, since Bennett had told her Alice would be going early. Bennett waited in one of the chairs near her fireplace whilst Celia helped Alice behind her changing screen nearby.

  “We didn’t even finish our game of chess,” Alice said, from behind the screen when she realised she was actually quite annoyed to have had her session cut short.

  “Alice, you can speak to me when you come out. I’m not going to have a conversation through the screen,” Bennett said, as he began replying to a text from his brother, Damian.

  Celia emerged from behind the screen with Alice, who had refused to put her dressing gown or slippers on. She only wore her short nightdress and bloomers and walked across the room to where Bennett sat in one of her Louis XV upholstered chairs, texting. Alice perched on the arm of the chair and leaned over Bennett.

  “Who are you texting?” she asked, cheekily.

  Bennett pulled his phone from her view and looked at her.

  “Alice, do not sit on furniture like that. And you certainly shouldn’t be so nosy,” he said, unsure of how to correct her for two things at once, since they both rather annoyed him.

  “Shan’t show you any affection then,” she declared, quietly, as she stood up
and began walking toward her bed.

  Celia was behind the screen sorting Alice’s clothes and tidying where she had undressed. Her ears perked up when she realised that Alice was speaking so plainly to Bennett. In all the years she had been working for the James family she had known Bennett, and even when he was in secondary school – nobody spoke out of tone to him. No one.

  “I beg your pardon,” he said, putting his iPhone back in his inside blazer pocket before he stood up and followed Alice toward her bed.

  Alice turned and walked backward until she reached her bed.

  “Nothing,” she said, and then sat down facing Bennett and crossed her legs beneath her, as he continued to approach.

  When Bennett reached Alice sitting on her bed he stood over her and rested his hands authoritatively on his hips, and his suit was so well tailored that the jacket didn’t even pucker when he did so.

  “Celia, will you excuse us for a moment, please?” Bennett called, able to hear her tidying things behind the screen.

  “Yes, Sir,” Celia said, and immediately left the room.

  Bennett turned to Alice, his hands still on his hips.

  “Right young lady, let me straighten something out for you – I am your elder and now, your Uncle. You do not speak to me under your breath, mumble inarticulate words or turn your back and walk away whilst doing either. It is very plain to me that you do not like this arrangement and to that I say ‘tough luck’, my darling. Alright? You do not get to choose your family,” he said.

  Alice frowned and laughed.

  “Then what do you call this?” she asked.

  “Brayden chose you, you did not choose him,” Bennett said, seriously, pointing at her. “And I am part of that package because of his relation to us and you cannot choose otherwise. Now, I’ve noticed you are quite clever, Alice. I’ve seen how you decide when and to whom you will share your affections, of which very little has been shown to me,” Bennett said.