“Do you object?”
“Of course I object. What you’re proposing is sheer madness.”
Alex appeared not in the least dejected. “It’s like Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it?” he asked brightly, then grew reflective. “Doesn’t this remind you of the Montagues and Capulets, only now it’s the Belingtons and Linleys?”
“You have given some thought to how the play ends?” Douglas remarked dryly, “both the lovers dead, as I recall.”
“That’s not likely to happen,” Alex answered with all the bullish confidence of a twenty-six-year-old. “I love Alethea, and she’ll love me, once she gets to know me.”
“Good Lord.” Douglas flicked a glance upward in disbelief. “Does she even know you exist?”
“Probably not. After Almack’s I saw her only twice more, once at a concert, once at a soiree.” Eagerness shone in Alex’s eyes. “Why do you think I’m so anxious to go to Lady Perry’s ball? She’ll be there. I shall tell her who I am—declare my love—”
“And love conquers all?” Douglas asked, not bothering to conceal his skepticism.
“Don’t spoil it for me. Yes, love does conquer all...” in the face of Douglas’s incredulity, Alex faltered “...well, somehow.”
“Ah, Alex, such folly.” Trying to arrange his thoughts, Douglas nudged his mount and continued toward home.
“What do you mean, folly?” Alex asked, riding up alongside.
“When you love as much as that, you lose control. That’s why I shall never fall so completely in love I lose my power to reason.”
“You seem very fond of Rose.”
“Granted, there’s Rose, and the ladybirds who came before her, but that’s different. I take love as a more practical matter—a necessity, of course, but I’ve never met a woman from whom I couldn’t walk away. Naturally I’m fond of Rose. Right now I should hate to lose her. But I’m not besotted with her, as you seem to be over Miss Alethea Linley.”
“You should see her,” Alex exclaimed, energized by the mere sound of her name. “The fairest of skin—the bluest of eyes—fragile as a Dresden doll. And the blush upon her cheeks—”
“Spare me,” groaned Douglas. “I cannot believe you would commit such folly.”
To his surprise, Alex laughed and replied, “Some day you’ll know exactly how I feel, my hard-hearted brother. You, too, will fall in love, and when you do, you will toss and turn all night thinking of her. She will be on your mind every waking moment. You won’t be able to eat—”
“Please, you make love sound like some disease.” Douglas raised his palm in protest. “Such nonsense. I could never be such a fool.”
Alex fell silent. “There may be some difficulties,” he finally said, “but I truly believe we can resolve them all. God’s blood! the whole tragic affair happened twenty-five years ago. Ancient history. Who cares anymore? Times change.”
Douglas answered, “I care. I care very much. What might seem like ancient history to you is to me like yesterday.”
“You are letting it ruin your life.”
“Nonsense. I lead a perfect life in London.”
“No you don’t. You’ve built a wall around yourself. Half the belles in London would throw themselves at your feet if they thought you would give them a chance, but you won’t. Instead, you’re content with women like Rose who give you what you want—or what you think you want, for a price and no strings attached. That’s no perfect life. You’re fooling yourself if you think it is.”
Surprised at his brother’s unusual outburst, Douglas started to answer, but before he could get a word out, Alex nudged his horse and galloped away. Soon they reached a knoll from which they had a sweeping view of rolling green lawns and the mansion beyond. Douglas regarded it now with great distaste. “Alex, there is nothing you nor anyone could ever do to remove the stigma from Ravensbrook Manor. As for my marrying, how could I bring a bride to this cursed place? And besides, there’s another good reason I chose not to take a wife.”
“You’ve never told me.”
“And I won’t. Suffice to say, it would be the height of foolishness for me to fall in love.”
“But you’re wrong. Sooner or later all men fell in love, unless there’s something the matter with them. You simply haven’t met the love of your life yet. When you do, I hope I can manage to keep my mouth shut and not say I told you so.”
* * *
The coach had just passed York and would soon arrive at Southfield. Lucinda had been looking out the window for hours, trying to interest herself in the passing view, and not think of the painful scene yesterday when she defied her parents.
“Mama and Papa, I have thought it over, and under no circumstances shall I ever marry Lucius Whittlesby.” She added, “And you can’t make me,” knowing she sounded like a child, yet her point was surely made.
As expected, Mama did not appear to be too upset, although she certainly wasn’t happy, either. It was her father who regarded her with pain and disbelief in his eyes. “So my second daughter defies me?” he asked softly.
She shriveled a little at his words but replied, “That is correct and I absolutely mean it.”
“Then I suppose you want to go to Southfield.”
“That is my wish.” She made sure she sounded clear and uncompromising. “I have determined that however awful Southfield might be, it could not be worse than being Whittlesby’s wife.”
She waited, her heart pounding, while her parents exchanged questioning glances, after which Papa briefly nodded his head. “Very well, my defiant daughter, you shall not marry Whittlesby.”
Joy filled her heart. “Thank you! I am so grateful.”
Papa smiled. “Well, I could hardly drag you kicking and screaming to the altar, now could I?”
“And Henrietta can have the entire dowry?”
“Yes, which means she can marry Lord Carlson, and you”—worry filled his eyes—”shall leave tomorrow for Southfield.” He slowly shook his head as he spoke, as if the prospect of her going to Aunt Pernelia’s was deeply troubling.
“Papa, can you please tell me what’s so awful about Southfield?”
Her parents again exchanged glances. Mama said, “It’s better you find out for yourself.”
“That’s only fair,” Papa added. “I deem it unadvisable to prejudice your mind concerning anything or anybody at Southfield. You will soon find out for yourself.” He smiled. “I shall tell you something to the good, though.”
“Please do.” Filled with guilt at having to defy her parents, she would welcome anything to lift her heavy spirits.
“You will find Southfield to be a large, rambling old mansion, fairly new, built around the middle of seventeenth century. There are countless rooms. No doubt you’ll have your own bed chamber for a change, so there’s something to be grateful for. There’s an excellent serving staff, as I recall. Also–and perhaps this is the best part of all—Southfield stands next to beautiful, thick woods where you will undoubtedly discover new species of birds to draw.”
“Then how could it be so bad? Oh, Papa, do I have your blessing?” Her chest felt as if it was about to burst as she waited for his answer.
“Of course you have my blessing, child, but I still worry.”
Mama added, “You have mine too, Lucinda, although I confess I am perplexed as to why you have refused to make a perfectly good marriage.”
“I want to love the man I marry. It’s as simple as that.” Catherine’s words popped into Lucinda’s head. To know passion—it’s such pure ecstasy, impossible to describe. She had best not tell her parents that, though. She pictured the looks on their faces should she inform them that if a man couldn’t draw her to the heights of fire and passion she would not marry him.
“Well, it may not be so bad,” said Mama, who always tended to look upon the bright side. “Considering that if you stay a year, Pernelia has promised to provide a dowry. Of course, she had in mind Henrietta, but I’m sure she’ll extend her largesse to
you.” She smiled brightly. “And perhaps you might find someone you love by then.”
Thus, Lucinda’s departure for Southfield had been light-hearted, with the exception of Papa’s last words, which still lingered in her head. “Be careful. You have never met the likes of Edgerton Linley. I shall worry about you. Feel free to come home any time.”
But to return home would be to admit defeat, Lucinda thought as the coach rolled along, especially after she had made such a show of defiance. Naturally she felt a slight trepidation because of Papa’s words. But was she not a mature, competent young woman who could keep her head in any situation? There was nothing she couldn’t handle.
As the coach neared Southfield, she looked out the window and saw such a magnificent sight she drew in her breath. An ancient castle, built of a silvery limestone, stood dramatically pale against the brilliant green of a thickly wooded slope. Directly at its base lay a small lake with water so clear that the castle, with its striking medieval turrets and towers, was perfectly reflected. Lucinda stared transfixed. It was like a divinely inspired picture–-a fairy tale castle. As the coach rolled by, she hardly dared take her eyes off it for fear that when she looked again it would have disappeared in a mist or a cloud.
When she got to Southfield, she must remember to ask who owned that beautiful castle.
* * *
“Aunt Pernelia?”
Carrying her portmanteau, Lucinda cautiously stepped into her aunt’s bed chamber. Although it was still daylight, heavy drapes were drawn across the windows. The room was so dark she could barely make out a big, four-poster bed and a small figure reclining therein. “I’m here, Aunt,” she called, “your niece, Lucinda.”
“Lucinda?” came a surprised voice from the bed. “I was expecting Henrietta.”
“Well, you have me instead, Aunt.” Lucinda approached the bed. “May we have some light?”
With a listless sigh, her aunt replied, “I like the dark.” She crooked a finger. “Come closer, I can’t see you.”
“You could see me better if I pulled the drapes back.”
“Oh, very well, pull them.”
After Lucinda had opened the drapes to rays of cheerful sunshine, she seated herself by Pernelia’s bed. “That’s much better,” she said, smiling down at the small, white-haired woman who gazed up at her.
“What happened to Henrietta?” asked Aunt Pernelia. “She’s the one I asked for.”
“She couldn’t come.”
“So you’re taking her place?” Lucinda nodded. Aunt went on with a sigh, “Actually, I’m surprised he sent anyone at all.” She looked up at Lucinda with child-like eyes. “He was reluctant, wasn’t he?”
She would have to be honest. “If you want the truth, Papa didn’t want either one of us to come. I talked him into sending me.” She smiled brightly. “I hope you don’t mind that Henrietta couldn’t come. You do have me, Aunt. All I ask is that you give me a chance and I shall be the very best companion I can be.” She opened her portmanteau and pulled out half a dozen watercolors of birds. “I thought you might like these. I painted them myself.” She held the first few up for her aunt’s inspection. “Here’s a robin, and this is a red kite, and here are a pair of curlew.”
Aunt Pernelia sat up, plumped up her pillows, and took the pictures, examining them carefully. For the first time, she smiled. “These are very good. You must do a lot of bird watching.” When Lucinda nodded, she continued, “Of course, you would. Come to think of it, your father always had a keen interest in birds.”
“We’ve bird-watched together many a time.”
“Lovely.” By now, the frown had eased away from Pernelia’s forehead. Her old eyes, which once must have been bright blue, were friendly and warm, although a bit vague. “Did you have a nice journey? Have you met the family? Did the butler show you to your bed chamber? I trust you find it to your liking.”
Lucinda laughed. “Yes to the first question, no to the second, yes to the third. My bed chamber is lovely.” She felt no need to add how stunned with delight she’d been when the butler showed her to a beautifully furnished room twice the size of the one she had at home.
Pernelia eyed her carefully. “So you haven’t met any of the family yet?”
“Only you.”
“Good.” The frown returned briefly. “This gives me a chance to warn you, this is a strange household.”
“In what way?” Lucinda, always direct, inquired.
“Best you find out for yourself. Suffice to say, the atmosphere at Southfield is a far cry from your own home. You won’t like it. You will no doubt want to return home on the next coach.”
Lucinda laughed. “I doubt it. From what I’ve seen of Southfield, it seems a most beautiful, most comfortable estate.”
“It’s not the house that’s deplorable,” Pernelia answered bluntly, “it’s certain of the people who dwell within.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what my duties will be?” Lucinda asked, making an effort to get on to a brighter subject. “How can I amuse you? I must warn you, I’m not very good at cards, mainly because I’m not fond of playing, but anything else I can handle with ease. As for the people who dwell here...” Lucinda raised her chin confidently “...I have been around people all my life, both friends and family. I’m sure there’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Her aunt awarded her a skeptical look of disbelief, but said no more on the subject. “Just as I wrote to your father—you will be my companion. You will read to me, accompany me if I decide to go visiting, upon occasion, take your meals with me here in my rooms, although not tonight. We shall dine downstairs tonight.” With a smile that held a touch of the devil, she continued, “I want you to meet the family.”
“I do believe I can manage all that,” Lucinda said reassuringly.
Pernelia looked thoughtful. “I can’t understand why Henrietta didn’t come. And why you? As I recall, you’re the second eldest, are you not? Then for pity’s sake, why are you not married?”
Lucinda carefully explained the circumstances, emphasizing how Henrietta certainly would have come had she not fallen in love with Lord Carlton and wanted to marry him. She tried to avoid the delicate matter of the dowry, but Pernelia remarked in her direct way, “You gave up your half of the dowry to your sister, did you not?”
“Something like that, yes.”
A sympathetic look of understanding crept over Pernelia’s face. “And then volunteered to come to Southfield, despite your father’s objections.”
Lucinda nodded. “I must admit, Papa had some reservations, but I look at it as...well, almost like an adventure.”
“And a way to test your mettle.” Pernelia gazed at Lucinda admiringly. “I see strength in you, my dear, which, believe me, you’re going to need in this cheerless place.”
“Cheerless?” Lucinda frowned in surprise. “Southfield doesn’t appear cheerless to me at all.”
Pernelia sighed. “That’s because you haven’t met the family.” She smiled at her niece. “It’s lovely to have you here. I can see already we shall get along famously.” With a chortle, she went on, “My poor brother-in-law! Seven girls to marry off and not one son. Does he have any hair left?”
“Some. I have a letter from him to you.” Lucinda reached into her portmanteau. “I’ll read it to you if you like.”
When Aunt nodded, she began,
My Dear sister-in-law,
By now I am sure Lucinda has explained the reason why she, instead of Henrietta, came to Southfield. You will find Lucinda to be pleasant, considerate, and loyal. I trust you will find her as suitable as Henrietta. I know she will please you and hope that since she is still unmarried, you will, as promised for Henrietta, facilitate her social life in York.
With the warmest of regards, Arthur Linley
Lucinda dropped the letter into her lap. “I just want to say one thing about that dowry you promised to provide Henrietta after a year. For me, I can assure you that won’t be necessary. At thi
s point in my life, I really don’t care one whit whether I ever marry, so don’t feel obligated.”
Smoothly, as if she were not the least surprised, Pernelia answered, “Of course, my dear, whatever you want. I am able to get out of bed now, and walk with a bit of assistance.” She slowly swung her feet to the floor, reached for her cane, and stood. She was taller than Lucinda had thought, and despite the injury to her hip, had a proud, straight carriage. “Come along. It’s time you got settled in your new rooms. Dinner is at eight o’clock. Promptly,” Aunt added with special emphasis. “Edgerton is not kind to those who are late. Best take care when you dress, or—” She had appeared to be about to issue further warnings but changed her mind. “I’ll send you Celeste, Alethea’s lady’s maid. I trust you brought a dinner gown. Edgerton insists upon great formality.”
“Don’t worry, Aunt. I shall dress appropriately.” Feelings of apprehension shot through her. Lucinda most definitely liked Aunt Pernelia, and that was good. Still, all things considered, a nagging worry hung over her.
She wasn’t sure how sincere she was when she said to her aunt, “I look forward to meeting the family.”
* * *
She would be gracious, cheerful, and charming, no matter what, Lucinda thought as she got ready for dinner. Heeding her aunt’s warning, aided by Celeste, she dressed with meticulous care. Thank heaven she had brought several lovely dinner gowns. After much consideration, she settled upon the pale blue, long-sleeved chemise with the low neckline and chose her favorite fan with leaves of mother-of-pearl. Celeste dressed her hair in ringlets atop her head, adorned with a blue satin bandeau trimmed with flowers. Lucinda felt confident she looked her best as she swept down the staircase and into the formal drawing room where, she discovered, the family had proceeded her.
Aunt Pernelia, dressed in a gown of lovely violet lace, was sitting on a settee, her cane beside her. “Ah, there you are!” she called. She looked toward a man dressed in black who sat, ramrod straight, beside her. “Edgerton, this is your cousin, Lucinda Linley.” To Lucinda, she said, “I want you to meet my son, Edgerton Linley.”
The Selfless Sister Page 4
