But once the parties ended, it was another story altogether. Gentlemen could keep mistresses, swear, drink, and brawl, sire a hundred illegitimate children, and merrily beat their wives and children whenever they pleased, and still be accepted in the highest circles in the land, so long as they behaved politely when itmattered.
It wasn't fair, but it wasn't going to change anytime soon, so there was no point railing against it.
Or so Paisley's Mama had said, anyway.
She unlocked the door to her room and slipped inside.
Ava was home, judging by the profusion of candles lit in the room. While Paisley was securely locking the door behind her – sometimes drunk men patrolled the hallways at night, and occasionally took it into their heads to try random door handles in hopes of finding an unlocked one – Ava appeared from the tiny washroom, her hair wet and her skin glistening with moisture.
"Ye are home early," she observed.
Paisley raised an eyebrow. "So are you."
"Ah, this is a night off for me," Ava paused, tilting her head to one side. "Are ye all right, lass?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Paisley lied.
"Huh. Well, a letter arrived for ye. I left it on yer bed."
A flurry of nerves settled in Paisley's stomach. She swallowed hard, glancing over.
A white envelope, sealed with a vibrantly red blob of wax, sat neatly on her well-made bed.
Ava's bed wasnevermade. Right now, it was a knot of crumpled sheets and flattened pillows.
What's the point of making me bed,Ava had said once when Paisley asked about it,when I'm just going to mess it up again at night?
Paisley wasn't in the mood to laugh over Ava's idiosyncrasies. She plopped down on the bed and picked up the letter. The paper was smooth and creamy, not at all like the thin, pulpy stuff you could buy in the village here. The red seal was marked by a signet ring, a familiar one. Paisley ran shaking fingers over the indent and swallowed down her fear.
"That's a fine, red seal." Ava commented from the washroom. "Who's it from?"
"I haven't opened it yet." Paisley replied, pleased that her voice didn't tremble.
Snapped the seal, she unfolded the letter, holding her breath.
It was more or less the letter she'd been expecting and dreading to receive since she arrived here.
To Our Dearest Paisley,
We hope you are well. As you can tell, I am writing this letter, since Alex's handwriting is atrocious, and he writessoslowly.
I shall get straight to the point – Papa and the earl are starting to ask questions. The earl, in my opinion, has long since suspected that you arenotat Aunt Jemimah's, and is itching tostart up a search for you. Papa is getting nervous. He asks Alex and me frequent questions, and I believe that he too is starting to suspect something.
We haven't been able to write very often, for fear that Papa would discover it, and tell the earl where you are. I hate to say it, but I believe he thinks the earl is within his rights to come there and fetch you home if Papa himself can't. He keeps saying that a betrothal is a betrothal, and that is that. I know he thinks that this is the best thing for you, and neither I nor Alex can convince him otherwise.
It's difficult to tell what Mama thinks. She doesn't like the earl, I know, but she is keen to see you married and settled. Alex and I have done well so far, I think. You would laugh to see us – we act so innocent and confused, as if we know no more than anyone else.
I'm glad you're safe and happy where you are, and I think of you all the time. Alex wants to send you more money, but I think that could be dangerous. This letter is risky enough, but I thought you needed to be warned.
I must go now. The earl is coming to visit again. He and Papa go into the study for hours, talking about goodness only knows what. I don't like that man. I saw him strike one of the footmen only the other day, and Papa didn't say a word. Perhaps he didn't believe me. He's suspicious of us still.
That's all I dare write for now. Much as we would adore a letter from you, don't write back unless it is necessary – it's too dangerous at the moment.
Your Loving Brother and Sister,
Alex and Eliza
Paisley swallowed hard, feeling sick. She'd known that the story about fleeing to her aunt's house wouldn't last long. Aunt Jemimah was famously bad with correspondence, and the post in that part of the country was notoriously bad. Plus, it was too far to easily travel.
