by Bella Bryce
One week later, at the beginning of August, Uncle Bennett and Damian arrived at the front doors of Waldorf Manor, surprised to find Alice running toward them as they entered the foyer. Brayden appeared just as Alice threw her arms around both of them.
“I hope you weren’t running, Alice,” Brayden said, nearing his two friends and then shaking both of their hands.
Damian and Bennett half bent down to cuddle Alice whilst still maintaining a very sophisticated manner. Bennett didn’t like his suit becoming untidy at any time, but the fact that Alice had been so blatant in her acceptance of their arrival he chose to overlook it. She hadn’t previously, in the six months he’d known her, ever displayed such obvious affection upon greeting him.
“Alice, darling, let them inside, please,” Brayden said, taking Alice’s arm and gently pulling her away. Damian and Bennett stepped down the two small marbled stairs into the vast foyer of Waldorf Manor. Alice stood beside Brayden near to them.
“I’ve just taken Alice through today’s piano lesson and left her with an hour’s practise to get on with, so you’ll need to supervise that. By the time she’s finished Wellesley will probably call you through to dinner and then do as you like until her bedtime,” Brayden said.
“What time are your reservations?” Bennett asked.
“Eight o’clock. Jude is taking me to collect her almost now. I expect to be home around midnight,” Brayden said, looking at his watch.
“I’ve got a meeting in the morning, Bennett doesn’t; I’m staying until Alice goes to bed and then I’ll drive home,” Damian said.
“Is your driver collecting you?” Brayden asked, Damian.
“No, I’m letting him drive my Jaguar home,” Bennett said, raising an eyebrow.
“Why don’t you just stay in your room, then, Bennett? Jude will take you home tomorrow after breakfast,” Brayden suggested.
“Yes, perhaps I will,” Bennett responded. “Provided Damian doesn’t require me to come rescue him somewhere between here and home,” he said.
“It’s a high maintenance car, Bennett,” Damian replied, justifying a previous experience he had had in his elder brother’s car.
“Is Uncle Bennett and Uncle Damian having an argument?” Alice asked, tugging on Brayden’s blazer.
“You mean are they. And no, my darling, they’re just having a bit of a brotherly chat is all,” Brayden said.
“Right, gentleman, have a good evening. I will have my phone if you need me. Alice, be a good girl and do as you’re told. Uncle Bennett and Uncle Damian will be supervising your practise this evening and I expect you to do it exactly for them as you do for me,” he said.
“Yes, Father,” Alice said.
Brayden picked Alice up and cuddled her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Her eyes pleaded with him not to have dinner with Jade, and Brayden could see it.
“Be a good girl,” he whispered, then kissed her forehead and placed her back on her feet.
Brayden left Waldorf Manor with Alice staring at the doors for a long moment after they had closed behind him. Something about Brayden leaving to see another person made her feel abandoned, and she wanted to chase Jude down the drive and ask him to stop. Bennett and Damian hadn’t ever seen Alice so clingy to Brayden before and watched her stare at the large double doors as if she could see through them. Bennett couldn’t help but sense the return of old feelings of jealousy; while he was delighted that Alice had really settled into Waldorf and how she thrived under his best friend’s watchful eye, he also still desired to have what Brayden had.
“Alice, come along,” Bennett said, holding his hand out to her.
She turned and took Bennett’s hand, letting her Uncles lead her into the music room nearby. Alice situated herself at the piano and glanced up at the music that Brayden had left on the stand in front of her. She began practising whilst Wellesley served tea to Bennett and Damian as they sat nearby quietly chatting. Bennett had studied piano for ten years and although it hadn’t been as intense as Brayden’s tutorial, his parents were of the same mind as Brayden’s, whereby lack of discipline and practise were punishable offenses.
Bennett had always been a student who learned things very quickly and with music, by ear. He didn’t always have to read the music and would often go off into his own rendition of the song. That habit was very quickly squashed by his teacher and his mother, who had been a concert pianist and taught privately for exclusive families before her sons were born. Evelyn hadn’t wanted to be Bennett’s teacher, although she was really his secondary tutor and oversaw all of his practises. Even when Bennett was in his adolescence she would very calmly warm him that she would smack him across her knee if he deviated from his music. Bennett stopped writing and composing as a result and purely trained to play classical pieces exactly as they had been written. And although Bennett hadn’t been completely put off piano and he admired what Brayden was doing with Alice, he himself rarely sat down to play unless his mother asked or commented that he hadn’t, ‘in ever such a long time.’
Funnily enough, despite having been slightly put off himself, Bennett very much wanted to insist any girl whom he might ‘adopt’ under his care would have the kind of piano or instrumental tutelage that Brayden had experienced. He had no problem enforcing such strict parameters, although he hadn’t been one to want to follow them.
“Alice, eyes on your music and not out of the window,” Bennett said, causing her to jump slightly when she realised he was standing directly behind her. Damian rolled his eyes at his brother – he felt Bennett was needlessly correcting Alice at every turn.
“Isn’t that so, Uncle Damian?” Bennett called, to his brother, who remained on the sofa drinking his tea.
Damian looked over at Bennett and didn’t respond, causing him to raise an unamused eyebrow and wander back to Damian. Alice carried on practising, unaware of the apparent discord between her Uncles.
“Isn’t that so?” Bennett repeated.
“Perhaps,” Damian said, sipping his tea and replacing it in the saucer.
Bennett’s face straightened and he became irritated.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t be looking after the girl if you can’t mandate proper behaviour from her,” Bennett said.
“She hadn’t done anything wrong, Bennett, I’ve no reason to correct her,” Damian said.
“Daydreaming out of the window instead of practising is reason enough,” Bennett replied.
“Save the harshness for when she actually does something wrong, yeah?” Damian asked, leaning forward. He was clearly not amused by Bennett’s pickiness.
“I ought to teach you a lesson,” Bennett said, firmly.
“You can try, but I’m not her age anymore, so I doubt you’ll get through it without a fight from me,” Damian said, nodding toward Alice, before sitting back in the sofa and taking another sip of his tea.
“We’ll see what Mum has to say about that,” Bennett said, satisfactorily.
The Fowlers were all around a pleasant family, but Evelyn Fowler, as it was known, was very easily crossed and when she was, that person was either a friend who would be kept at arm’s length, or a son whom she would correct as if their childhood hadn’t ever passed them by. Brayden especially didn’t condone such harsh judgment on perfect strangers and would never hope to be Evelyn’s ‘enemy’, but he also knew that it stemmed from the harshness of her own mother when she was a girl.
Damian was well aware that if Bennett went directly to their mother and told her that he had failed to speak or act in a way that Brayden would hope in order to maintain his expectations for raising Alice, there would be no hesitation in her either speaking or acting in a way that clearly showed her displeasure. Evelyn had always played an active role in the disciplining of her sons although Jon had always dealt with them very formally in his study, like all other parents in their social circle. Evelyn would often deal with misdemeanours before her husband got to them because his working hours would
n’t have allowed for swift correction. Being in such a habit meant that as her sons grew older and Jon’s hours increased, Evelyn dealt more and more with Bennett and Damian.
And as far as she was concerned, if they chose to remain at Greystone Hall (despite having the funds to purchase their own estates, hire their own domestic staff and begin lives separate from their parents) then although they were twenty-eight and twenty-six, they were subject to correction. Evelyn and Jon’s house ran very particularly and there had been several occasions where their mother had not only threatened to put one of them facing the wall, but carried it out and not without putting one of them across the arm of one of their many Chesterfield sofas. It was quite simple; her sons could remain at Greystone so long as they continued to follow the rules and expectations set out from birth. If such rules and expectations were not met, they were corrected. Such discipline hadn’t disappeared because their chronological age reached a certain point – it only would if they moved out.
Damian had met rather frequently with his mother’s wrath in the onset of his adulthood years, simply because he didn’t value the formal household he had been raised in the way his mother, father and elder brother did. He wanted to be more casual and laid back, all the while maintaining the behaviour and dress code he knew was expected of him out of begrudging obligation. Bennett never understood Damian’s ‘issue’ with domestic staff, and formality, but by the end of the month he would be in his own property where he would begin implementing the familiar lifestyle for himself. And for the most part, Bennett looked down on Damian because of his apathy toward a more disciplined and privileged life.
“You wouldn’t say a word to her,” Damian said, looking at Bennett.
“I most certainly would,” Bennett said, placing his teacup and saucer on the nearby table.
Damian shook his head and looked away.
“Unless you buck your ideas up and start acting like a Fowler. I’m tired of your casual approach to everything. You are my brother and Alice James’ Uncle, now start acting like it,” Bennett said, in a low voice. He didn’t want Alice to hear Damian being told off because despite wanting to have told him such a statement for an unknown length of time, Bennett would never deliberately do so in front of someone under his authority. It just wasn’t right.
“I’m sorry,” Damian said.
“Good, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear. We can discuss this later,” Bennett said, feeling as though the power he once held over his brother when they were lads was finally being restored to its rightful place. Bennett stood up and went to Alice, letting her know the hour was up.
“Did I do alright?” Alice asked, looking up at Bennett. She was really trying to figure out if she was in any kind of trouble. Bennett was harder to read than her father and sometimes his correction was unexpected.
“Yes, I’m rather impressed,” he said, and waited for Alice to slide off the bench.
Wellesley no later announced dinner and the three of them entered the dining room. Bennett, as eldest, sat at the head of the table, Alice in her usual place to the left of the head and her Uncle Damian across the table from her and to the right of Bennett. The remaining twenty-odd chairs were empty and obediently pushed up against the table as usual.
“Wine for us both, please, Wellesley,” Bennett directed. His brother didn’t always have wine but as part of his previous advice when telling Damian he had better start acting like a Fowler, what he also meant was, “embrace your privilege.”
Alice sat quietly after having put her napkin in her lap. Bennett looked over and noticed she seemed rather pensive.
“Is everything alright?” Bennett asked, peering over at her.
“I wish he hadn’t gone to see her,” Alice said, quietly. It was the only way to verbalise her dislike of the situation and of Jade without disobeying Brayden’s direct order to speak well of her. Brayden had told Alice she was welcome to voice her opinion privately to him, but not to other people, which would then mean it was gossip.
“That’s not for you to worry about,” Damian replied.
Bennett turned and looked at his brother, surprised to have heard any kind of corrective statement. Alice even looked up at him.
“Your father is an adult and a perfect gentleman, he knows what is best for himself and for you. If he sees fit to court Jade, he will. Likewise if he doesn’t. That’s enough sulking for one evening,” Damian added, taking his first drink of wine.
Bennett couldn’t even hide his surprise; his raised eyebrows said it all. Alice raised her eyebrows and looked from Damian to Bennett. It had been no secret that Damian was the ‘nicer’ Uncle and ‘softer’ brother, so his rather abrupt order caught everyone off-guard. Wellesley even paused with Bennett’s plate in mid-air serving and then realised he had paused and continued serving without further distraction.
“Yes, sir,” Alice replied, her annoyance of the situation dissolved and replaced with enough surprise that her tone was rather light.
Dinner continued with discussion between Bennett and Damian, with Alice unless she was spoken to. It took a lot of the responsibility of being charming and participatory off of Alice in such a case, so she didn’t mind. After dessert and coffee, Bennett suggested an evening walk through the formal gardens.
“A cardigan for Miss Alice, please, Celia,” Bennett had said, when observing she wore a short-sleeved cotton summer dress, knee socks and loafers.
“I won’t be cold, Uncle Bennett,” Alice had said, walking toward the front doors.
“Alice, come back here. You’re not going out without one, and certainly not ahead of us,” Bennett said, holding his hand out toward her.
Alice let a heavy breath out of her nose and stalked back down the small set of stairs and into the main part of the foyer where Bennett and Damian stood.
“Was that an exasperated sigh I heard?” Bennett asked, when Alice gingerly accepted his hand. He looked down at her rather disappointed face; Alice wasn’t one to enjoy not getting her way.
“It might have been,” Alice replied, innocently.
“Do we need to deal with that before we go for our walk, Uncle Bennett?” Damian asked, and for the second time receiving rather surprised looks from both Bennett and Alice.
“For heaven’s sake, stop looking at me like that, both of you,” Damian said, frowning. “Now are you going to discipline her or shall I?” he added.
“That depends. Who were you being cheeky toward, Alice?” Bennett asked, looking down at his niece.
“The floor,” Alice replied, sheepishly.
Bennett cleared his throat, realising he nearly chuckled at her comment.
“This is your warning, Alice. If it happens again this evening one of us will spank you. Here’s Celia,” Bennett said, looking up.
Celia helped Alice into a white cardigan over her cotton dress and saw them out of the front doors. Bennett and Damian walked on either side of Alice, each holding one of her hands. They walked for an hour throughout the gardens and around the estate before returning to the foyer as the sun began to lower.
“Tea please, Wellesley,” Damian said, upon returning to the foyer through the front doors.
Bennett, Damian and Alice took evening tea near the fire in the drawing room, chatting about various things and generally enjoying each other’s company. Alice sat beside Bennett, leaning against his shoulder as she grew tired. She eventually stopped participating in the conversation and her eyes became heavy.
“Come along then, I’ll show you how it’s done,” Bennett said, picking Alice up and carrying her out of the drawing room. Alice didn’t condone being carried about and found it to be rather ridiculous, but Bennett wasn’t someone to argue with and she had no energy left; she had used it all up on mentally cursing and telling off the woman Brayden was having dinner with. The anger had exhausted her.
Bennett asked Damian to retrieve Alice’s nightgown from behind her changing screen.
“Normally, Celia will come up
and help her to change for bed,” Bennett said, as he still held onto Alice.
“Shall I go and fetch her?” Damian asked, returning from behind the screen with two nightdresses and a dressing gown.
Bennett gave his brother a confused look.
“She only needs one, Dame,” Bennett said. Bennett hadn’t used his brother’s nickname since they had been quite young. “Not the dressing gown.”
Damian re-emerged from behind the screen with the white nightdress with red bow prints across it. Bennett went and sat on Alice’s bed with her in his lap. He removed her cardigan and handed it to Damian and then encouraged Alice to wake up. She wasn’t amused and frowned as Bennett stood her on her feet.
“Alice, stand up for me just for a moment,” he said.
She managed to open her eyes slightly although she stood rather unhelpfully, mostly leaning against Bennett as he pulled the dress up and over her head. Damian handed Bennett the nightdress, which he slipped over Alice and pulled down to its short length of hitting her mid-thigh. Bennett pulled Alice back into his lap and nodded toward her socks; Damian knelt down and removed both of them.
“The basket is behind the screen, all of it can go in,” he said, quietly, before standing up with Alice and laying her into the bed.
Damian returned a moment later and kissed Alice goodnight after Bennett turned out her lamp. They left closing the door and then descended the stairs.
“Right, I think a brandy is in order,” Bennett said, going directly to Brayden’s drinks table across the drawing room when they had returned.
Wellesley cleared away the tea and dishes whilst Bennett poured one brandy for himself and another for his brother. Damian had been quiet, standing near to the fire, leaning against the mantelpiece until Bennett approached him.
