“Penelope, can you get the silverware, please,” she asked over her shoulder while making the settings. “I’ll help you when I am done with these.”
Her aunt entered the room and Uncle Richard followed soon after, his traveling clothes rumpled and his hat dusted from the road. He hurried in, sweeping off his hat to press a quick kiss to his wife's cheek. “Terribly sorry for being late, my dear. I’ll be down shortly.”
Aunt Agatha wrinkled her nose. “Hurry, dear, you smell a fright.”
Richard hurried out of the room with swift hullos to Alice and Penelope before vanishing from the door. Quietly, Alice finished setting the table as Penelope laid down the last fork.
She took her seat and watched as Penelope poured out a glass of water and sipped it—she prayed that the food would not make her sister ill to the point her aunt would grow suspicious. There were only so many times a person could have an upset stomach in a week.
“Alice, dear,” her aunt looked her over. “How is the lovely Lord Brampton? I would love to have him over for dinner soon, I am sure we can get a lovely goose or turkey. I have been meaning to try asparagus in lemon butter sauce, or mayhap roasted potatoes drizzled with crème flavored with dill.”
“I am sure he will be around again,” Alice smiled thinly, “and as punctual as he is, he will send ample notice so we can prepare.”
“Oh, good, good,” Aunt Agatha nodded. “Where is Eliza?”
“Maybe asleep,” Penelope suggested. “She was out with her friends very late last night. You know she needs twelve hours of rejuvenating sleep per night, or day.”
“My poor dear is so fragile,” Aunt Agatha sighed. “She gets so overwhelmed at times. I fear I may have passed on my delicate nerves to her. My poor girl, I may have condemned her to a life of frailty and constant bed rest.”
“There is nothing delicate about her,” Alice murmured while sipping her water.
“Richard, dear, would you please get Eliza,” her aunt said as the butler and the single maid came in with the platters of food.
The jarring scrape of his chair made Alice wince; as Richard stood, Eliza came into the room, the frills of her nightgown peeking at the neck of her robe. She patted her bonnet and said, “Do not bother, father. I am here.”
“Are you all right, dear?” Agatha asked.
Taking her seat, Eliza nodded. “Just tired. Yesterday—” her eyes bored into Alice’s, “—was a very arduous day, to say the least.”
Mystified about why Eliza was trying to skewer her head from her body, Alice minded her meal and dug into the pheasant pie with little enthusiasm.
All through the meal, as her aunt chattered on about the various soirées Lady or Lord So-and-So were throwing as the Season began to get to its height, she avoided Eliza’s scathing glaring and snide quips as she had no energy—and little care—to mind her temperamental cousin; she only had a mind to plan for her next day with Penelope.
“Aunt, may I borrow the carriage tomorrow?” she asked. “Penelope and I would like to drop by the bookstore, and I have some sewing supplies to purchase, and some remedies from the apothecary—”
Eliza smacked her cutlery down with a resounding thud.
Agatha glanced between her scowling daughter and Alice. “Oh, I am not sure that can be arranged, dear. We may require it for an emergency—”
“And I can ask Lord Brampton about that dinner if I run into him,” Alice smoothly put in.
Bobbing her head at once, Aunt Agatha chimed, “Yes, of course, it makes sense to run all your errands at once! Yes, you may have it for an hour or two.”
“Thank you, Aunt,” she replied, pointedly avoiding the venomous gaze of her cousin. “We’ll be back soon enough.”
While pulling her coat away in the cool afternoon, Alice looked over to Penelope and the two books she clutched under one arm.
“I must confess, I feared Eliza would have tried some stunt to take the carriage and leave us stranded.”
Resting the books on her bed, Penelope giggled, “I had the very same idea! And she climbed into the carriage the moment we returned. Do you have any idea where she has been slipping off to lately?”
“No inkling,” Alice sighed. “But she has found something else to be angry at me about. I do not know what it is, but I am not surprised she is miffed.”
Pulling the pins from her hair, Alice carded through them, then asked her sister, “How are you feeling?”
“At the moment, fairly well,” Penelope huffed, tugging her half boots off. “I still sometimes think about what will happen when Aunt learns of my condition, but I feel as if I am borrowing trouble.”
Reaching over, Alice gave her younger sister a warm hug. “I know you doubt me now, but it will be better one day.”
