The Selfless Sister

by Shirley Kennedy

  A glimmer of hope flickered through her. Perhaps he didn’t know Alethea was gone. Perhaps he had simply discovered, probably through a servant’s tattling, that earlier she had slipped out of the house for some unknown reason. If that was the case, perhaps he would accept a flimsy excuse. “I couldn’t sleep. I was out taking a walk.”

  Edgerton regarded her with such a look of scorn she wanted to cringe. His lip curled contemptuously. “You were not out taking a walk, my dear cousin, you were helping my jade of a daughter to elope with a scoundrel.”

  Lucinda felt the blood drain from her face. “You know?” she gasped without thinking.

  Through the flickering candlelight she saw Edgerton’s mouth spread into a thin-lipped smile. “They didn’t get five miles.”

  “You mean—?”

  “Alethea is in her room. At dawn, she leaves for Scotland.”

  She was afraid to ask but had to know. “And Alex?”

  “The fool tried to fight me. There was bit of a skirmish.” Edgerton paused to pick a piece of lint he couldn’t possibly see from his jacket. “My pistol went off, but whether Alex was wounded or not I cannot say. But if he was, the rogue would have learned a valuable lesson, do you not agree?”

  Anger rose in her throat. “What a beast you are!”

  “Oh, come now.” Still with that supercilious smile on his little pursed lips, Edgerton made a mocking moué. “Alethea is my daughter, and, as such, is my property. It is the duty of the master of the household not only to guide those inferior females who dwell within, but also to see they are disciplined properly. Thus, Alethea will be banished, and as for you...” he cocked his head and frowned. “So kindly tell me, Cousin, what urgent business kept you at Ravensbrook Manor until the wee small hours of the morning?”

  She was not going to cower, nor stammer, nor cater to this bully. She was, in fact, so angry she threw caution to the winds. “I am a grown woman, sir. What I do is none of your concern.”

  “You have been entrusted to my care. It is my concern.” Edgerton’s eyes narrowed. The remains of his cruel smile faded away, replaced by a twisted expression of sheer vengeance. “You were consorting with that scoundrel, Belington, were you not? Tell me, did he take you to his bed? Have I not one ruined female in my household but two?”

  “I am not ruined, sir.” She started to say more, but how could she? She had to admit that to a degree, Edgerton was right. But it wasn’t like that! a small voice cried from within. Edgerton made it all sound so shameful and ugly, when instead she would always consider those moments in the great chamber at Ravensbrook as some of the most beautiful of her life. Even if she never saw Douglas again, he had opened the door to love’s beauty. Now it was shut, and likely to remain so, but she would never forget.

  All she had left was her dignity. “You may do whatever to wish, but I refuse to say another word on the subject.”

  “So be it.” Edgerton arose and walked to the door. “You will be sent home, of course. Since my coach will be otherwise engaged, first thing in the morning I shall send word to your father to come fetch you.”

  Her heart sank. Such a humiliation! Never had she felt so low. She thought of her Aunt Pernelia, and how much more cheerful she had been lately, thanks, at least in part, to her. “If you will recall, sir, I am here to be a companion to your mother. Are you being fair? She’ll miss me sorely if I go.”

  He smiled benignly, as if dealing with a temperamental child. “My mother has no say in what I do. You are naught but an insubordinate, disobedient female. A bad influence on my household, including my mother, I daresay. I have sensed, and disapproved, of your independent ways from the day you arrived. Good riddance to you.”

  She drew herself up and squared her shoulders. “How dare you talk to me in such a manner!”

  For the first time that night, Edgerton dropped his facade of careful control. His face flushed. His lips twisted with anger. “You allowed him to take liberties, didn’t you?” He strode across the room, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her hard. “Didn’t you!” he cried, his voice raised.

  Her mind cleared. She saw Edgerton for exactly what he was and knew exactly what motivated him. Words of defiance flooded her head. She had been taught from childhood that a lady always suppressed such thoughts, and maintained her dignity at all times. Well, not tonight. Tonight, the devil be damned, she would speak her mind. “That’s all that drives you, isn’t it, Edgerton? Your hatred for Belington has twisted your soul. Now, to make it worse, you’re jealous. I’ve seen the way you look at me. You cannot bear the thought that I might have been in Douglas’s arms tonight, can you?” She lifted her head defiantly, and smiled. “Well, I was, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “Why, you...you doxy!” Edgerton pulled his arm back and struck her across the face so hard she almost fell. He went to the door and turned. She could see he was livid with anger. “You will do me the courtesy of staying out of my sight until your father arrives.”

  She placed her hand upon her stinging cheek. “Why not send me to the fourth floor where you imprison your son? Put us both on bread and water, you cruel man.”

  Edgerton’s face turned deadly white. He tried to speak but could only sputter. Finally he left without another word.

  * * *

  Immediately after Edgerton left, Lucinda sank back to the settee, so shocked she could hardly think straight. But as calmness and reasoned thought returned, she wondered, oh, what have I done? How foolish to antagonize that loathsome man. But how could she have not? Edgerton deserved every biting word she’d said to him, and more. It was just that she had made a bad situation worse by telling him exactly what she thought. Then she remembered, Alethea.

  She hastened to the door, opened it, and cautiously peered down the hallway. No one in sight. But why was she being so cautious? She remembered Edgerton’s words, Do me the courtesy of staying out of my sight. Well I won’t, she thought. If Edgerton saw her, that was his misfortune, not hers. She was tired of toadying to Edgerton and never would again. She found herself pleased at her new attitude and felt a certain bravado. Of course, she had never come close to being as docile as Cousin Jane, but still, because of her upbringing, she had always answered a rude word with a polite one. This was something quite new to her. Standing up to Edgerton had brought on this new defiance. Never would she cower before him again. She went to the mirror to fix her hair and, to her chagrin, saw the red welt across her face where Edgerton had struck her. “Nothing I can do about it,” she whispered aloud.

  When Lucinda reached Alethea’s bed chamber, she found an atmosphere of agitation and gloom. Alethea, looking wan and pale, lay on her bed with both her mother and grandmother hovering over her. Sarah, too, was there, but standing back from the bed, looking more disapproving than concerned. When she spied Lucinda, Alethea cried, “Papa found us. Everything went wrong. I am desperate to know about Alex. I think Papa shot him.” In despair she cried, “He could be dead, Lucinda.”

  Sarah, quivering with indignation, glared at Lucinda. “You had a hand in this, didn’t you?”

  Lucinda ignored her and walked to the bed. Alethea clasped her cousin’s hand and cried, “Oh, Lucinda, it was horrible. Papa was livid. He had some of his men with him. They stopped our coach, and then Papa came and started to pull me out. Alex tried to stop him, but then Papa pulled out a pistol. There was a shot. Alex cried out-–such a fearful cry, it made my blood run cold. Then Papa pulled me away and I don’t know what happened.” Fear, stark and vivid, glittered in Alethea’s eyes. “Alex could be dead. If he is, then I want to die, too.” She turned her face away and started to sob.

  Jane looked at Lucinda with horrified eyes and whispered, “Edgerton says she must leave for Scotland early tomorrow.”

  Lucinda nodded miserably. “I know.”

  Looking bewildered, Pernelia declared, “How could she have done such a thing? Now I shall never see my only granddaughter again, nor my first grandchild.”
>
  Hearing her grandmother’s words Alethea cried anew. “I am so terribly sorry, Mama, Grandmama. I never meant to harm anyone. It’s just that I love Alex so much I couldn’t bear for us to be apart.”

  Sarah again turned on Lucinda. “This is all your fault. You urged Alethea on. It was you who helped her run away last night, was it not? It was you who...what is that on your cheek?”

  In the confusion, Lucinda had forgotten the vicious red welt. She managed to shrug and say offhandedly, “It’s not important. Instead of laying blame, I should think you would be trying to find a way to help your niece, not condemn her.”

  “But there’s nothing Sarah can do, nor can anyone,” Jane cried, wringing her handkerchief. “Edgerton has declared—”

  “Can you not think for yourself?” Lucinda’s shaky hold on her composure disappeared, replaced by a mighty surge of wrath. She addressed Jane. “Is it your wish that your daughter spend the rest of her life in Scotland?”

  ”Oh dear, of course not.”

  Lucinda willed herself to stop her trembling. “Then do something about it!”

  “But what?” Jane held her palms out, beseeching.

  “Have a talk with your husband,” Lucinda declared. “For once in your life stand up to him. Tell him, in the most adamant of terms, that you don’t want him sending your one-and-only daughter away. Tell him she must marry Alex—”

  “If he’s still alive,” Alethea cried from her bed.

  Lucinda turned to Pernelia. “And you, too. There’s strength in numbers. If you, Jane, and even”—she looked toward her bellicose cousin—“Sarah, here, were to go to Edgerton and express in strong terms how you feel, it might help.” She paused. They were all staring at her, as if she had just suggested they assassinate The Prince Regent. There was nothing but silence. “Well?” She looked each one in the eye. “Have you nothing to say?”

  “There is nothing to say,” said Jane. Meekly she clasped her hands and bowed her head. “I should not dream of confronting Edgerton.”

  “Nor would I,” said Pernelia, “even if he is my son.”

  Lucinda swung her gaze to Sarah, her last hope. The older woman crossed her arms over her chest and stared back grimly. “Much as I love Alethea, I feel that after her willful misconduct, she deserves to be a taught a good lesson. Whatever Edgerton decrees is fine with me.”

  Lucinda listened with rising dismay. Now she knew her cause was hopeless. “I give up,” she declared, not without a touch of bitterness. “Just remember Edgerton is not God. He’s only a man, and a far from perfect one at that.”

  “Just what do you mean?” Sarah asked indignantly. She cast a meaningful glance at the welt on Lucinda’s face. “Edgerton did that to you, didn’t he?” Lucinda nodded. “Then I’m sure you well deserved it.”

  “I’m not talking about how Edgerton struck me, appalling though that was. I am referring to the old tragedy.” Lucinda had not intended to say anything, but in the mood she was in, she didn’t care. “Sarah, you know as well as I, Edgerton was less than truthful in his account of what happened that day.”

  There was a collective intake of breath. Pernelia reached to the bed post to support herself. Jane’s mouth dropped open. But Sarah! Lucinda was amazed to see Sarah stagger, grow white, and nearly collapse.

  “Why did you come here?” Sarah finally asked Lucinda in a trembling voice. “I curse the fates that brought you to us, and I pray by all that’s holy you will soon leave.”

  They watched in silence as Sarah pressed her handkerchief to her mouth and fled the room.

  “My stars,” Jane said, “you have really upset her.”

  “Unreasonably so,” said Pernelia. She cast questioning eyes at Lucinda. “What on earth is this about Edgerton?”

  Lucinda was now totally sorry she had brought the subject up. She had spoken out of turn. After all, there was nothing she knew of a certainty, so it was unfair, as well as senseless, to accuse Edgerton of anything, at least at this point. “I am terribly sorry, Aunt Pernelia. Forget what I said. Rest easy. Edgerton wants me to leave, so you’ll soon see an end to all this unpleasantness.”

  “Must you go?” Pernelia asked. Dullness had returned to in her eyes. It seemed as if almost instantly her interest in life had disappeared. In a childlike voice she continued, “I find I’ve been much happier since you arrived. Now who will embroider with me and talk to me? And show me her bird drawings?”

  Lucinda felt her heart ache. “I’m afraid I have no choice, Aunt. Edgerton is sending word to my father to come fetch me.”

  “Then I shall speak to him.”

  Lucinda felt torn. “Oh, but, Aunt, I’m not sure I want to stay. You know how much I love you and enjoy your company, but I must be honest. Edgerton has caused me no end of trouble, and now he wants me gone. I’m not sure I wish to argue with him.”

  “But do you really want to go home?”

  “I hate the thought of it.” Lucinda heaved a giant sigh. “Not that I don’t love my family. I yearn to see them again, only not like this. I was supposed to start a new life here. If I go home now I shall feel totally disgraced. It would look as if I’d failed, which, in truth, I have.”

  Pernelia clucked with sympathy. “Reserve your decision, my dear. In the morning, let us see what I can do.”

  Chapter 15

  The next morning, Lucinda was not half awake before the memory of the events of the previous day assailed her groggy head. She was about to be sent home in disgrace...Alethea had been caught and was to be sent off to Scotland...Alex had been shot...Charles was still locked up...Douglas!

  Wide awake, Lucinda curled her arms around her pillow and whispered his name. All her problems faded into nothingness as she recalled every detail of their passionate embrace last night. She could almost feel the same ecstatic shivers she felt when his lips covered hers, when his hands roamed freely over her body, all the more thrilling because the feeling was so new, and she had never let a man take such liberties before. In a moment of soaring exultation the thought came to her, I truly love him. Not just for the passion he’d made her feel but for his humor, his kindness, his concern. He’s just like Papa, she thought in a moment of clarity.

  “Are you awake, Miss?” Celeste had entered the room. “It’s near nine o’clock. You’ve slept past the usual time. I hated to disturb you, but His Lordship wants to see you downstairs in the study.”

  Uh-oh. “Tell him I shall be down shortly. Has Miss Alethea...?”

  The maid’s face fell. “Yes, mum. Gone off to Scotland at dawn’s first light.”

  The little cloud of delight in which Lucinda had enveloped herself disappeared as if a chill wind had suddenly blown it away.

  With a heavy heart she chose to wear her best morning dress of lilac calico and her favorite French cornette cap trimmed with lace and lilac ribbons. Not that she dressed with the notion she must look her best for Edgerton, she was attempting to bolster her low spirits.

  Half-way down the stairs she encountered Charles. “What a lovely surprise,” she said to the little boy, “I didn’t expect to see you for three more days.”

  “Papa let me out,” Charles said, and actually smiled. “He didn’t say why.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, it’s lovely to see you. We’ll talk later, Charles,” she said and continued on her way.

  In the study, Edgerton stood by the window, hands behind his back. Hearing her, he turned and regarded her with that same implacable look on his face.

  “I see you let Charles out,” Lucinda said as she entered. “Might I ask why?”

  “I don’t have to answer to you,” Edgerton contemptuously replied.

  She wanted to tell him she knew why, that doubtless her remark last night about his being cruel had shamed him into releasing his son. It wouldn’t do any good to pursue the matter, though. She decided to get to the point and said coldly, “So you actually sent her away.”

  Edgerton stared at her with cold, unblinking eyes. “My da
ughter will never set foot in this house again. Henceforth, I do not wish to hear her name. But that’s not why I have sent for you. My mother has spoken to me, begging that you stay. Much against my better judgement, I have agreed.”

  “I see.” She would die rather than show her relief.

  “There is one condition.”

  She might have known. “And what might that be?”

  “You are never to go to Ravensbrook Manor again. You will have no further dealings with the Belingtons. None of the Belingtons, I might add.”

  She marveled at how calm she was. Before, she would have cringed in fear before this arrogant man, but it appeared her awakening yesterday and really changed her. “Cousin Edgerton, you don’t frighten me. I find your condition not only unreasonable but ludicrous, and I most certainly do not agree to it.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, “You can send me home if you like, but bear in mind, that won’t be a punishment since I would be overjoyed to see my family again. So need I point out your mother will suffer the most, not me?” Amazed at her own boldness, she tilted her chin defiantly and waited for his answer.

  He was livid, of course. She could tell by that vein throbbing in his forehead and the thinning of his already-tight lips. Well, no wonder. Here was a man who ruled his household with an iron hand, not accustomed to being disobeyed, most especially by a young, unmarried female.

  “So you would use my love for my mother to get what you want,” he declared.

  She burst, “That’s ridiculous! I would as lief go home as not, which might be better for you because...” She realized the words she was about to say were aggravating in the extreme and could well prove disastrous. But what had she to fear? Go or stay, it didn’t matter. “Edgerton, not only do I refuse to agree to your condition, I give you fair warning there’s a certain matter I intend to pursue.”