Aunt Ginny’s carriagedrew up in front of her townhouse.
“Shall we walk to our house, or is your coachmen going to drive us?” asked Cilla.
“Come inside,” Aunt Ginny said. “I daresay your father and all his household are asleep. I shall leave a message to be given to your father when he awakens to say where you are, and that you will be comfortable here with us.”
“I would prefer to go home,” said Cilla, remaining seated as her cousins got down from the carriage one after another.
Livy, who was about to follow them, sat down again. “Would you ask the carriage driver to take us home, please, Aunt Ginny?” she said.
She did not know why Cilla was insisting on going home, but she knew her sister. Cilla was the pleasantest and most biddable of girls. However, on the rare occasions she dug her toes in—and her tone told Livy this was one of those occasions—nothing would move her.
No doubt she had an excellent reason. Livy wondered what it could be.
“If you are going to refuse my hospitality,” said Aunt Ginny, “you can walk.”
Their house was on the other side of the street and a few doors down. Not a long walk, but it was very dark in between the pools of light cast by the new-fangled gas lamps, and the rain that had fallen during the evening had left the streets wet and undoubtedly muddy. Their light dancing slippers would soon soak through.
“Then we shall walk,” said Cilla.
Barker, who had traveled from the ball on top of the carriage, must have clambered down, for Livy could see her hovering behind Aunt Ginny, looking anxious.
“Olivia,” Aunt Ginny demanded, “talk some sense into your sister.”
“We would prefer to sleep in our own beds, Aunt Ginny,” Livy said, keeping her tone pleasant. Playing the peacemaker was not usually her role, but she did her best.
“Livy,” said Cilla, “I want to go home to Pa.” Her eyes were particularly intent. This mattered to her. Livy wondered what arguments she could marshal to gain for her sister what she wanted.
Just then, Jasper filled the doorway. “Is there a problem, Mama? Come along, cousins. You must be needing your beds.”
Cilla shrank back against the cushions of the seat, and Livy narrowed her eyes at Jasper. Had he done something to frighten Cilla? If so, she would find a way to make him pay.
“Oh, Marple,” Aunt Ginny complained. “Cilla is being difficult. She is insisting on returning to my brother’s house.”
“How foolish,” said Jasper. “Selfish, too, when his house is all dark and our servants are up. Also, dear cousin, your bed upstairs has been made and is warm. Come along.”
He reached for Cilla’s wrist, but she shrank back in her corner, lifting her hands to her chest so that he could not reach without climbing into the carriage.
Livy opened the door on the other side of the vehicle. “Come on, Cilla,” she said. “If you wish to go home, we shall go home.” She turned when they were both on the road. “We shall call tomorrow, Aunt Ginny. Thank you for a lovely ball.”
Cilla let out a screech, and Livy turned to see that Jasper had grasped her by the upper arms and was dragging her back toward the Marple townhouse.
“Let her go,” Livy demanded, and when he ignored her as if she didn’t exist, she turned on Aunt Ginny. “Tell him to get his hands off my sister, Aunt Ginny.”
“He does not mean Lucilla any harm, Olivia,” Aunt Ginny assured her.
Cilla screamed, startling Jasper so much that his hands must have loosened, for she spun around and punched him. Low. Just the way their father had taught them.
It worked. Jasper shrieked and dropped to the ground, hunched in on himself, his voice still shrill as he called Cilla names and threatened retribution. Aunt Ginny hurried to crouch by her son, and Livy to pull her sister into the shelter of her arm.
“You wicked, wicked girl,” Aunt Ginny said to Cilla.
Jasper had no one to blame but himself, but Aunt Ginny would not listen to that tonight. The noise had woken some of the neighbors. Footmen brandishing canes had appeared on several doorsteps, and shadows in upper windows hinted at watchers.
“I shall take Cilla home and we shall talk in the morning,” said Livy to her aunt, and she led Cilla away across the street to where their own front door was open, with a footman lurking on the porch and the butler, a nightcap on his head, looking out from inside.
“I assume there was a reason for that,” Livy told Cilla. “We shall have some fences to mend with Aunt Ginny, I suppose.”
“Jasper is planning to force me to become his wife,” said Cilla. “He wants my dowry. Mr. Sanderson heard him plotting with another man. Iwillnot sleep in the same house as him, Livy, and I shall not marry him even if he does compromise me. And Livy, watch out for Mr. Curston. He wants your dowry, and says he will beat you to teach you your place.”
