Theodora

by Christina McKnight

  Why did it suddenly trouble her so to be overlooked and left behind? Something had changed, though Theo hadn’t any notion what it was.

  Everyone had someone: Adeline had Georgie, Cart had Jude, her mother had Mrs. Gladstone and her other charitable friends…even Samuel and Olivia had each other. She supposed she had Josie, but Theo hadn’t even been completely honest with her.

  Perhaps she and Comtesse de Salnome could become friends, sharing their deeper secrets and longings.

  The clock chimed loudly, its deep gong filling the room and pulling Theo from her pitiful musings. The carriage ride back to Mayfair would take far longer at this hour, but Georgie’s townhouse was the safest place for them to meet. Her family did not seem to take much interest in her whereabouts.

  Theo hurried to her waiting carriage and instructed her coachman back to Mayfair.

  After the incident in Whitechapel, Theo demanded that they never venture to any tourneys alone, nor leave one another unattended. Thankfully, Greenwich Park was in a far safer area of London—being one of the royal grasslands. They would remain out of harm’s way, and her coachman would not think overly much about depositing the women at such a heavily congested park.

  The women waited outside as she pulled into Georgie’s drive—their bows slung over their shoulders and cloaks over their arms. They would all wear their hoods raised, knowing if one of them were recognized, it would be simple to connect the women to one another. Greenwich—and the Grand Archers’ Competition of London—was heavily attended by many members of society who were trickling into town for the coming season, tripling the girls’ chances of being recognized if they were not properly concealed.

  “It is about time you arrived,” Adeline snorted, plopping onto the seat across from Theo while Georgie and Josie handed their bows to the coachman. “If we do not hurry, we will not be allowed to compete.”

  “We will arrive at the end of the cataloging period, in time to pay your and Georgie’s fees, but not so early as to gain undue notice before the tourney begins.” They’d settled on their plan that very morning; unfortunately, it hadn’t been Adeline’s suggestion; therefore, she hadn’t found favor in the decision. Instead, she’d proposed they arrive very early to pay their fee and spend time walking amongst the other archers to assess their skills. “How will we ever be seen if we arrive so close to the start?”

  “We do not want to be seen, Adeline,” Georgie rebutted. “We must blend in. Our goal is to win the entire purse prize, not be the center of attention.”

  Adeline huffed, her petulant mood certainly caused by the rift between her and Alistair.

  Which reminded Theo of his visit to her that morning. “Your brother came looking for you again, Adeline. He arrived moments after I returned home from Regent’s Park. Was he cross with you when he returned home?”

  Their carriage pulled out of the drive, the women swaying with the movement as they made their way toward Greenwich.

  “I find I do not care how cross Alistair is with me. It does not matter if I sit in my room for days on end or flee out my window, he will find something about me that vexes him.”

  “How did you manage to leave the house for the tourney?” Josie asked.

  “I walked out the front door.”

  Theo glanced out the window nervously. “Were you followed?”

  “Heavens no,” Adeline said with exasperation. “Alistair and Abel left for Tattersall’s shortly after he was done berating me for climbing out my window. ‘You could have been hurt’ and ‘Think about your future,’” she mocked her brother’s warnings. “He made me promise—with a threat of sending me back to the country to Mother—never to climb out my window again.”

  “I truly thought he’d be far more furious and re-double his efforts to keep you locked away until the season commenced next week,” Georgie said with a laugh.

  Adeline smirked. “Oh, he did. He nailed my windows shut and posted the twins outside my door. Unfortunately for him, the pair have the attention span of a squirrel and were easily distracted. Long enough for me to slip from my room and out the front door,” she proclaimed with satisfaction.

  Josie’s eyes rounded. “You will be in an awful amount of trouble when you return.”

  “I am always in an awful amount of trouble.” Adeline chuckled.

  “Do you not fear being sent away?” Theo felt a sliver of remorse for the discipline her friend would face. “I know how much you are looking forward to wearing all your pretty new gowns.”

  “Oh, Alistair will not follow through on his threat. He’s spent far too much money for me to fail in society,” she confided. “I’ve heard him talking to Abel about it. I must be wed—and during my first season—for there is not enough coin to fund a second one for me. Besides, he no more seeks a return to the dull country existence than I do.”

  “You know I can help,” Georgie offered, always the one to slip Adeline spare coin when she ran low on her allowance. “You can stay with my family and me next season.”

  “You think I will not have suitors?” Adeline asked, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulder to gain a better look at her friend. “I suspect I will have eligible men offering for my hand before the season truly gets underway.”

  Georgie and Josie shared an exasperated look at Adeline’s incessantly overconfident demeanor. Her arrogant behavior hadn’t won her any true friends, beyond her roommates, at Miss Emmeline’s, and it would likely garner her less female companions in society. Though if it would deter men from courting her was yet to be seen.

  “I did not mean any insult, Adeline, I am certain you will marry and marry well, indeed.”

  Theo listened as Georgie apologized, though the woman’s offer was meant as a gift—a way for Georgie to help her dear friend.

  The carriage swayed as the coachman took a sharp turn, causing the women to lean into one another.

  Theo pulled the curtain back and peeked out the window to assess their progress. “Ladies, it is time to don our cloaks—Greenwich is fast approaching, and the traffic will slow shortly,” Theo announced, pulling her own cloak from below her seat. She’d requested that the stable master stash her gear and long cloak in the carriage when she’d arrived home that morning. “Remember, keep your hood securely raised, and your face averted if someone stares too closely. We keep to ourselves and depart when the tourney halts for the day.” She looked to each of her friends, gaining their agreement. “Georgie and Adeline—may the wind be in your favor, and your arrows find their mark.”

  “Friendship, loyalty, and honor above all,” the trio chanted.

  Theo nodded her approval as she tied the drape back, allowing the afternoon sun to shine in.

  Chapter 15

  Alistair slumped against the padded seat in his carriage, the weight of his obligations receding, at least for a few brief hours. The time away from his townhouse—and his siblings—had done as he’d hoped by easing the constant tension.

  “Thank you for accompanying me, Abel.” He took in his younger brother, now a man, sitting across from him. One and twenty years of age, but still the boy Alistair remembered. Also, the closest thing to a friend he had growing up so far from town.

  “Any time, Price,” Abel said with a smile using their surname as Alistair had yet to inherit his father’s title. “It is about time you and I take a turn about town. All this talk and preparation for Adeline’s season is getting old rather quickly.”

  Alistair sighed. “Yes, and to think we will have to repeat it four more times.”

  Abel chuckled. “You need repeat it on four more occasions. I cannot imagine Adelaide, Arabella, Amelia, or little Ainsley being as much worry to you as Adeline.”

  “One can hope—and say innumerous prayers to that end.” Relief had flooded Alistair the moment he and Abel departed for Tattersall’s, and had continued as they’d surveyed the stock up for auction. “But as luck would have it, they will be the death of me.”

  “Do you think Ad
eline will be home when we return?” Abel shifted in his seat, stretching his legs in the cramped quarters. “We’ve been gone several hours—there is no telling what scheme she concocted to gain exit.”

  “Her scheme did not include shimmying down the side of the townhouse, I can tell you that.” Part of him longed not to care. He was losing the willpower to continue fighting her determination to ruin herself. The rest of his siblings counted on the success of Adeline’s launch into society as it meant that their chances of favorable matches would increase tenfold. Everyone realized this except, apparently, Adeline.

  She seemed not to notice all he’d given up in his life to make sure her future was bright. Not that his commitment to his family had derailed his own choices in life—he would give up anything and everything if his siblings needed him to.

  Alistair could be spending his time in London focused on his own path, securing a wife for himself, starting a family, working to build a partnership that would help him in the future when he inherited his father’s estate. However, he was locked in a battle of wits with Adeline. It was maddening, infuriating, and altogether unnecessary. He would hate to look back on his many years focused on his family to discover it had all been for nothing; his sacrifices going unrewarded.

  He’d asked one thing of her: behave until the season officially began.

  It would please him greatly if she acted with a measure of decorum and grace until she was properly betrothed; however, even Alistair knew that was far too much to ask of his sister.

  “After the tongue-lashing I gave her, she should be fearful of leaving her room even at mealtime.” Once Adeline was introduced properly, he had no doubt that she would make a huge splash and become the debutante of the season—that was if she could keep her name unconnected to scandal for a few more days. “Besides, I have the twins watching her. They cannot do any worse than you.”

  “Thankfully, I’m not seeking a position as a governess or nursemaid,” Abel retorted.

  Alistair let the comment be, knowing his brother knew the time was fast approaching for him to make a decision on his own future—he was the first spare, after all. The Melton Viscountship was nowhere near grand or wealthy enough to support four sons and their families. Abel, along with Adrian and Alfred, would need to select a career, a way to earn an income to support themselves—a trade, possibly.

  The subject of a commission in George IV’s navy had been discussed, with Alistair promising to find the funds, but Abel had shied away from the offer. It was hard enough knowing he could not provide for them all for the rest of their lives, but even worse to try and force his brother down a path not of his choosing.

  As Alistair had been forced to do.

  There was little reason to contemplate or blame his parents’ role in their current situation. Yes, they should have been more aware what funds were needed to support a family with nine children, let alone dowries large enough to secure five females a proper husband. The daughters of a lowly, impoverished viscount were not exactly sought after or the favored choice among eligible men. Take himself for example, if he were to marry, his choices would be limited to women with large enough dowries to replenish the Melton coffers—it was a dreadful excuse to be chosen as his wife, yet there were no other options open to him; which was why Alistair refused to consider marriage as a means of solving his financial problems. Thankfully, his sisters would never know such a fate, as their dowries were barely substantial enough to be called actual dowries.

  No woman deserved to be taken as wife for her wealth. It would be a doomed relationship with little chance of happiness, let alone mutual love.

  In all honesty, Alistair hoped his sister chose a love match over a marriage of convenience or for money’s sake, it would make her dowry—while paltry, to say the least—irrelevant when drafting the marriage settlement. Though it would be more to Adeline’s liking to select a man who doted on her, thinking she could do no wrong because, frankly, she did a lot of things wrong.

  “What has you frowning so?” Abel kicked Alistair lightly in the shin to gain his attention. “You look as if you discovered the existence of several more female Price relations you’ll be responsible for.”

  “Heaven help us all if that were to happen,” Alistair said with a chuckle. “I would disappear at sea—leaving you, my beloved Abel, to pick up the pieces and finish the puzzle that is our family problem.”

  “I would swim all the way to Spain to find you, Price,” Abel said. “And drag you back. You know I am not the man to lead this family—nor rescue us from a financial ruin of father’s making. Besides, you know account ledgers and arithmetic, in general, do not interest me.”

  “Ah,” Alistair sighed, knowing what was to come next and deciding to beat Abel to the topic. “You are still interested in going on an archeological dig in the West Indies?”

  Abel’s jovial nature dimmed, hearing the frustration in Alistair voice. “As I have detailed for you, it will be far less costly than purchasing a commission for me.”

  “But no safer.” And certainly not preferable—at least not for him. If his brother were lucky enough to survive the journey, he might well succumb to an epidemic and expire without Alistair being any wiser.

  “Come, Price,” Abel said, leaning forward. “I would not be journeying to war. I would be gaining a wage and earning living expenses—and possibly, one day, garner mention in a serious historical journal if I am lucky enough to find something.”

  “Will you be lucky enough not to catch a serious illness or succumb to famine if you are stranded in some godforsaken country?” Alistair argued. “I am more than willing to take the loss of money, but a loss of life if something were to happen to you…absolutely not.”

  Abel sat back, crossing his arms in defiance.

  “What of your sisters?” Alistair posed his final question. “What will come of them if you perish? We may never know, never see you again, would you make them suffer such heartbreak?”

  “That is not fair.” Abel narrowed his eyes, a sign he’d settled on another proposition for Alistair. “What if I were able to secure a position at the museum? I would remain in England—go no farther—but would still be able to work and gain a living in a manner I would enjoy.”

  “Is there a position available that compensates you for your time?”

  “Not that I am aware of at present, but possibly soon. Or I can inquire.” Abel’s voice gained confidence as he spoke. “There are certainly hundreds of men—and some women—working at the museum at any given time. Maybe I can continue my intern position—without pay—until something more viable becomes available.”

  Alistair thought of Theo’s brother, Lord Cartwright—acting curator of the British Museum, but he halted himself before mentioning the fact. He’d already used Theo to keep track of Adeline, he would not use her again. And it was unlikely they pair would run across one another without someone making the introduction. “I will concede to a position in England, but nowhere else.” He knew he had no right to limit Abel’s activities; he had reached his majority. He could simply tell Alistair he was leaving, and he would be helpless to stop his brother and friend.

  Mercifully, Abel loved their family as much as Alistair.

  “Would you entertain a trip to White’s this evening—take our meal there, maybe find a card game?” Alistair asked, hoping to distract Abel and banish his sullen mood. “That is if we ever arrive home with all this traffic.”

  Alistair leaned forward to look at the window when Abel remained silent and brooding.

  “There must be something afoot today, for I swear every carriage is out.” The season had yet to officially begin, and he’d noticed an increase in peers arriving in London already. He dreaded the hectic traveling of the city streets. There was a break in the carriages ahead, and Alistair called to his driver to speed up as the traffic moving in the other direction continued its sluggish pace.

  Female laughter caught his ear over the shouts of vendors alo
ng the street and men on horseback yelled at passing carriages to move out of the way.

  Alistair’s head was not normally turned by the sound, as it was something he heard day in and day out at his own home, but something about the tone was familiar.

  He craned his neck, leaning slightly out the carriage window, careful not to collide with a vehicle moving in the opposite direction.

  The laughter—from more than one woman—still drifted through the air, but one in particular still held his attention. “Do you hear that, Abel?”

  His brother looked at the window, as well. “Yes, I think it is—“

  His words cut off as they both spotted the source of the familiar sound as a carriage with a window uncovered rolled past them—a head of long, pale blonde hair could be seen right before the woman raised the hood of her cloak, as did the other three women in the enclosed conveyance.

  “It is Adeline!” Abel shouted.

  “That blasted female,” Alistair retorted. “Driver! Follow that carriage.”

  “I guess your tongue-lashing was not as persuasive as you thought,” his brother said with a chuckle, his jovial nature returning.

  Alistair kept his eyes trained on the fleeing carriage as he caught sight of Theo, sitting across from Adeline. Mercifully, the women’s carriage continued in a southerly direction that led away from the East End and Whitechapel.

  “Where are they going?” Abel shouted over the din of the wheels on the hard-packed street as the conveyance picked up speed in pursuit.

  “I haven’t the slightest notion, but it seems they are following the many carriages traveling in that direction,” Alistair said, though he feared he did know exactly where the group of women was going. “We will follow and collect Adeline. Her friends are free to do as they wish.”

  Alistair hadn’t been completely honest with his brother about where he’d discovered Adeline a few days prior. Abel only knew that their younger sister had been caught gallivanting about town without a proper chaperone or Alistair’s permission.