Today's Reading
He smirked and stroked the book cover, and it wanted every iota of her self-control to keep from bashing his head on the desk.
How dare he touch it? How dare he pollute this house with his presence? But he was a vulture, and somebody had died, and he was bound to hope he could pick at the carcass. Nobody had wanted to chase him away, because he was all too likely to make a scene and cause Aunt Julia further distress. They'd treated him to cold courtesy instead. He pretended not to notice, but of course he'd nurse a grudge.
"Quite so," she said. She started to turn away, to put distance between them before her temper got the better of her.
"Let's hope they both live long, then, eh?" he said. "Or sire sons before they go. Because after them, it's..." A long pause ensued while he pretended to think. "Oh, dear. The next in line for the dukedom seems to be me." He shook his head. "And then, I suspect, it will not be quite the same."
Alice came back to the present, her gaze still upon the river, sparkling in the capricious sunlight.
"No, nothing will be the same," she said softly.
Only a simpleton would believe the day would never arrive when Worbury inherited, when all this and more would be his. The morning's events had made that as clear and sharp as a slap in the face.
She remained at the fishing house, looking into the future. Eventually rage and anxiety settled to a bearable level. Late that afternoon, she felt composed enough to consult her aunts Julia and Florentia.
The conversation was long and painful.
When she wrote to her best friend, Alice kept matters to essentials.
My dearest Cassandra,
It seems I cannot go on being content with my life as it is. My brother and his two friends show no signs of moderating their behavior. To ask for maturity is asking for the moon. With John Ancaster's recent death, my not-distant-enough cousin Worbury becomes my brother's heir. Since Ripley's behavior promises an untimely demise, I need not explain the consequences for the dukedom and all those dependent upon it. I am only one of many, but one of the few able to do anything about it.
I'll soon be five and twenty, and as the aunts pointed out, my situation is not secure. Unlike you, I haven't seven more or less loving brothers or open-minded grandparents. Ergo, I must undertake the perilous quest of finding a husband. This involves two dragons: Society in general and Men specifically. The ton isn't wrong to disapprove of and fear my brother and his friends. These same people don't know me very well, which means I shall have to establish my Perfectly Unexceptionable Wife credentials. As to the Male of the Species: You know what my father was like. My mother had no inkling when she wed him, and she was helpless to stop him from sending me away to that so-called school. Marriage is a gamble, and one isn't wrong to worry about choosing badly. Still, you and I have taken all the precautions we can. We're not helpless women.
In sum, I cannot rejoin you in Florence, and you are not to think of returning to England for the present. The aunts say it will want six months to a year for the scandal to die down and for your father to "achieve a calmer frame of mind," as Aunt Julia puts it. She, meanwhile, is writing a letter to Ripley, warning him to stay away from London until I have completed my quest.
This is a horrid short letter on so grave and disruptive a subject, I know. However, it is as much as I trust myself to say intelligibly at present. By the time we return to London, I hope to have achieved a calmer frame of mind myself.
I love you dearly and miss you dreadfully,
Your most affectionate,
Alice
London
Evening of the following day
The Duke of Ripley was late joining his two friends at Ashmont House. They gathered in Ashmont's capacious dressing room, as they often did before an evening's entertainment.
"Change of plans," he said. "Can't stay in London."
He flung himself into one of the three chairs set before the fire and tossed a letter onto the small table there.
Blackwood took up the letter. He recognized the handwriting. "From Lady Charles."
"I'll save Ashmont the trouble of reading it, rather than risk injuring the delicate workings of his brain," Ripley said. "Aunt Julia says Alice is going on the Marriage Mart, and I'm to keep well away, so as not to cast a shadow over the proceedings and frighten away her lovers."
Blackwood froze, his startled gaze on his friend and his mind going black for an instant, as though Ripley had thrown him against a wall.
This excerpt is from the hardback edition.
Monday we begin the book CHANGE OF HEART by Falon Ballard.
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