Scarlett did too.
Holding Lydia’s hand, a calm, almost regal Katherine marched up the three steps that led to the Duke of Torrance’s double doors.
The silver-haired man stepped in front and bowed again. “Ladies, avoid the ballroom. The meeting has run long today.”
What meeting?
Katherine smiled at me but not in a good way. She looked smug. “I see. His business was more important than you.”
Lydia seemed thrilled, bouncing up the steps, grinning. “He expected us to come today.” She rubbed her palms like they itched because the duke had thought of us.
The footman scowled, then returned to his dour tone. “That’s been the orders for over a year. Since last—”
“Last March.” Moving closer to Katherine, I whispered, “Oh, I see how we are included in his plans. The poor man has been hoping for us to come. And you’ve been too preoccupied or rude to return his courtesy.”
She grabbed my arm as I almost spun into the grand hall. It was blue and white with gilt on the ceiling and on panels along the wall. “You’re too young to know when a man has arranged circumstances to draw you in.”
“Too young? I’m twenty-five, Katherine. You’re only twenty-nine. You make yourself sound aged and the duke a demon.”
“He’s not a demon. He’s worse. At least you can see the horns on Satan.”
I dropped her hand. “Why do you hate him?”
Before she answered, Scarlett wandered to the grand staircase, causing Katherine to announce, “We need to stay together, dear sister.”
Scarlett offered a pout. “The duke said that I could visit his library.”
“I heard him. He said it’s supposed to have maps.” Lydia jumped about. “He said I could look too.”
Katherine drew her hands together, clasping them tightly. “I thought we’d come to see if the duke was well, and then leave.”
“We can do thatandlook at his maps.” Lydia sighed with glee when the footman pointed up the gilded grand central staircase.
“On the upper landing. First door on the right, ladies. The Duke of Torrance is a little under the weather, but he is up and may be in the science meeting happening today. Anya House is very crowded and there are reporters, do be careful.”
“Anya . . . Anya House?” For a moment, Katherine looked shaken. She stuttered. She never stuttered. “That’s what the Duke of Torrance has named his residence?”
“Yes, ma’am, after his late sister.” The footman turned back to Scarlett and Lydia, who’d already inched toward the stairs. “I’ll try to make sure you’re not disturbed. I know His Grace wouldn’t like that.” He bowed and pointed again to the wonderland awaiting upstairs. His debonair actions made the tails of his blue uniform sway as if a breeze flowed through the enormous hall.
Arm in arm, my younger sisters disappeared, bounding up the burgundy-carpeted treads. Well, our Lydia sort of dragged Scarlett. The wordsscience meetinghad Scarlett ready to engage. It was good to see our little Lydia with such energy. She’d had another bout of a spring cold. They usually took her strength.
“Sir, will they be safe up there?” Katherine looked concerned, very motherly. And with her half-mourning gray, very matronly. Reporters wouldn’t recognize us as the daughters of the renowned Cesar P. Wilcox, one of the first Blackamoor men to make his own fortune in London. Papa’s empire once included a second house, the wharf, and the brewery near Ground Street.
One of the reasons I loved walking or running down the lane was memories of him and his industry, when our name meant something.
“Yes, ma’am,” a second servant said.
The footman snapped to attention as an older gentleman came to us. “The Wilcoxes. At last you’ve come. I’m Jonathan Steele, the duke’s butler. He’s moving slowly today because he’s been a little under the weather. Knowing that you’re here, he’ll attend to you once he finishes dressing for the day.”
“Mr. Steele,” the silver-haired footman said, “I warned them about people drifting about the house.”
“True,” the butler said. “Reporters are always hunting for something, but His Grace needs the newspapers to spread the word about new discoveries. It’s the only way to popularize research.”
Steele sent the footmen back to their post, then turned to us. “You may wait in the study.”
“No, sir.” Katherine folded her arms and tried to appear at ease, but she, like me, had to be impressed with the fine blue paint and gilt-trimmed moldings. She continued, “We’ll wait here.”
“Very well.” The butler walked a few feet and opened a door to the left. When he slipped inside, a rush of claps and noise ushered out. That had to be the ballroom.
