The Selfless Sister (16 page)

Sarah gave her a hostile glare. “So why are you here?”

Might as well get immediately to the point. “It seems your brother, Edgerton”
—looking into Sarah’s unfriendly eyes, Lucinda had to force herself not to waver—“is much too hard on Charles.”

“In what way?” Sarah snapped.

“In just about every way.” With a sinking heart, with growing awareness she could never break through this strange woman’s hostility, Lucinda went on to describe how she felt about the whipping Charles had received, his long incarceration in the dark room on the servants’ floor, how he was not getting enough to eat. She ended with, “Do you suppose you could help? Perhaps if you talked to Edgerton?”

Sarah glared at her, the cords in her scrawny neck bulging. “What do you expect me to do? What’s the purpose of this? Just why are you asking?”

“I want only to help Charles,” Lucinda answered in a reasonable manner, knowing full well she wasn’t getting anywhere, and most probably would not, but she would keep trying. “You know as well as I, he’s being treated much too harshly. Would it be too much to ask that we join together—go to Edgerton—stand up to him? I have a feeling if we did, we could—”

“Stand up to Edgerton?” Sarah started laughing, not a happy kind of laugh, but harsh and grating. She stopped abruptly and bitterly continued, “If ever I wanted to
—how did you put it?—stand up to my brother, I would have done so long ago, back when there was hope in this miserable household, back before...”

“Back before what?”

“Nothing.”

“Back before the tragedy?”

“Edgerton is what he is. There’s nothing anyone can do. You’re a fool if you try.”

From out of the blue, a question popped into Lucinda’s head. Doubtless, it would be a waste of time to ask. She thought of Charles and decided to ask anyway. “Sarah, you were there on the day of the tragedy.”

“I was only five.”

“Yes, I know, but still you might remember. Was Edgerton being entirely truthful? By that I mean, did he tell the entire story? Is there something about that day that we don’t know?” She braced herself, half sorry she had asked, knowing her question would bring the full force of Sarah’s wrath upon her head. Instead, she was surprised to see a tiny glint of acknowledgment flit through her cousin’s eyes.

“My brother is not a liar,” Sarah stoutly replied, although Lucinda caught a barely perceptible irresoluteness in her voice. “You’ve heard the truth of what happened that day.” Her gaze shifted to the left and down. Subdued, she muttered, “I have nothing to add.”

It was plain as noon-day that Sarah was lying. “Are you sure you have nothing to add? I have the feeling the events of that day did not happen exactly as described.”

Sarah’s hesitant demeanor swiftly changed. She drew herself up indignantly. “How dare you even imply such a thing.” Her finger shaking, she pointed toward the door. “Get out. Don’t come back. Everything was fine until you came along, Miss Fine Airs.”

Lucinda remained calm. She felt nothing but pity for this bitter spinster who had nothing to do with her life but embroider everything in sight. She rose to go. “I’m sorry you feel that way. Perhaps some day when you’re feeling better we can talk more, and become friends.”

“Never.”

Sarah had said “never” with such enmity in her voice that Lucinda knew further conversation was futile. “Then you won’t help Charles,” she said, resigned.

Sarah drew herself up. “Edgerton is the master of this household. If you plan to stay here, you had best remember that, and not attempt to undermine his authority.”

Lucinda politely said goodbye and left her cousin’s bed chamber without another word. Back in Aunt Pernelia’s room, she tried to conceal her despair as she sank to a chair beside her aunt’s bed, but Pernelia caught her mood instantly.

“What is wrong? You appear distressed.”

Once again, Lucinda explained her feelings about Charles, although this time bearing in mind she was talking to Edgerton’s mother and thus could not fully disclose her indignation.

“I just don’t know why Edgerton acts the way he does,” said Pernelia with a vague wave of her hand.

Lucinda answered, “At first, I was thinking we could all get together and talk to him, but I know now that wouldn’t work. But perhaps...Aunt Pernelia, could you talk to him yourself?”

Pernelia look alarmed. “But what would you have me say? You know how proud and stubborn he is.”

“You’re his mother. He would listen to you.”

“Oh, dear me, no.” Pernelia leaned closer, to deliver a confidence. “Even if Edgerton is my son, I tremble in my boots when he gets angry.”

“But
—” Lucinda hesitated, knowing she was about to get into a personal area that was none of her concern. Still, if it would help Charles then it was her concern. “You do hold the purse strings, Aunt Pernelia.”

Pernelia did not look the least annoyed. If anything, she looked pleased she’d been reminded. “Did you know Edgerton is practically penniless?” she asked in a chatty voice. “It’s his own fault, too, what with all his extravagances. If it weren’t for me he would long since have gone bankrupt. Of course, he claims I’m getting incompetent.” She smiled mischievously, almost like a little girl. “He wants me to sign all my money over to him, but I won’t.”

“I’m glad you won’t,” Lucinda answered fervidly. “Money is power, Aunt Pernelia. Have you ever thought to use your fortune as a control over Edgerton’s misdoings?”

“Mercy me no!
Oh, dear, I would not begin to know how to stand up to Edgerton. Even now, when he hounds me to sign over my money, it’s all I can do to say no. I’m afraid soon I shall find his constant supplications so worrisome I shall give in, just to end his constant harassment.”

Lucinda’s heart sank. It was clear her quest was hopeless. Any further attempts on her part to persuade Pernelia, or, for that matter, anyone in this household, to stand against Edgerton were doomed to failure. How galling she could not help Charles
. She considered going to Edgerton by herself, but would she have the courage? Or would she wither under his hostile gaze and run, thus proving she was no better than any of the other fainthearted women in this miserable house?

Not only that, if he looked at her that way again, she didn’t think she could stand it.

She could not do it, she concluded, disgusted with herself. She was as much a coward as Jane, Sarah, and Aunt Pernelia. She wished there were someone she could talk to. Then it dawned on her there was. If Aunt Pernelia did not need her, this afternoon she would take the curricle into York and visit Lady Perry. The more she thought, the more she liked the idea. It wasn’t only Edgerton’s treatment of Charles that troubled her, there was something more—something she could not put her finger on. Lucinda remembered all those sharp-witted, insightful conversations she used to have with certain of her sisters, wherein memories were jogged, perspectives widened, and ideas born. Well, she most certainly would find none of that at Southfield. But perhaps Felicia would provide just what she needed to help solve the problems that weighed heavily upon her.

* * *

After the distressing morning she’d had, Lucinda thought what a comfort it was to sit in Lady Perry’s exquisitely furnished salon, sipping her delicious Ceylon tea, having a conversation with a woman of compassion, courage, and intelligence. She had just unburdened herself, confiding in Felicia her deep concern over Charles, followed by her total frustration with the weak-willed women of Southfield. “Sarah dwells in a world of bitterness. Jane possesses the courage of a gnat. Pernelia...well, what can I say? I suspect her mind is still in the woods each day, searching for her little girl.”

Lady Perry nodded sympathetically. “All because of Edgerton, I’m afraid. The man is such a tyrant.”

“I’ve been thinking I might talk to him by myself. But the very thought of facing him makes me fearful, too.” Lucinda let out a deprecating little laugh. “I’m as bad as the rest.”

“Save yourself the trouble. As I recall, Edgerton was a sly little boy, most unpleasant. He always reminded me of a weasel with those beady little eyes. Besides which, he’s always been completely intractable. All Napoleon’s army would never get him to change.”

Lucinda remembered Sarah’s words. “Do you think Edgerton told the whole truth about that day?”

Lady Perry took a moment to arrange her thoughts. “I shall be perfectly honest with you. I don’t know how, I don’t why, but I’ve always had the feeling that more happened on that day than we were told. I’ve never said this to a living soul, but I am convinced Edgerton lied and that he holds the key to Marianne’s disappearance. Many times I have wished that some miracle would occur
—don’t ask me what, I have no idea—and we could discover what really happened that day. If we could, I’m almost positive we’d find that Edgerton was somehow responsible.” She regarded Lucinda thoughtfully. “The only real cure to all these problems is to find out the truth. Are you our miracle, Lucinda? You, with your sharpness and your tenaciousness, and, yes, your bravery, perhaps you’re the one who can find the truth.”

“Do you think...?” Lucinda began, then changed her mind. “Oh, I don’t know.” Frustration overwhelmed her. “Right now all I can think of is that poor little boy. It’s so unfair.”

Lady Perry looked thoughtful. “It’s unfair because you’re a woman and no one listens to what a woman has to say.”

“Edgerton treats me as if I didn’t have a brain in my head.” Lucinda set her cup down with a clatter, incensed at all the injustice in her life.

“I am reminded of Mary Wollstonecraft,” mused Lady Perry. “She said, and quite aptly I’m afraid, that women are the toys of men—his rattle, so to speak, ‘and it must jingle in his ears whenever, dismissing reason, he chooses to be amused.’”

“Infuriating but true, I’m afraid,” replied Lucinda, vividly remembering that lustful look in Edgerton’s eyes.

“So very true.” Lady Perry answered sadly. Men want women to be pleasing and that’s what they get—women incapable of anything else. That’s why women act as they do, and that includes your poor, cowering cousins. It’s simply that women are ill-equipped to deal with anything beyond their own home, totally incapable of facing life on their own. Thus, this fearful, humbling dependency on men.”

Lucinda smiled ruefully at her friend. “At least you’re not dependent.”

“That’s only because I never married and have an independent income of my own.”

“An excellent reason for remaining single.”

Their eyes locked in a moment of sisterly understanding before Lady Perry continued, “But you see how difficult it is to assert yourself in a man’s world, most especially when you live in a house ruled by a tyrant like Edgerton.”

“Difficult enough for me, but impossible for Jane and Sarah, and even his own mother. Edgerton’s word is like God’s.”

“You could go home to Essex, you know. Forget all this unpleasantness.”

Lucinda considered a moment. “Since I’ve been at Southfield, I’ve grown to appreciate my family more than I ever did in my life. I can’t tell you how much I would love to go home right now. I won’t, though. Despite everything, I still might find some way to help Charles”
—she raised a mischievous eyebrow—”despite my inferior, powerless position in life.”

Lady Perry acknowledged the humor with a swift smile. “It is indeed a woman’s lot in life to serve and keep her mouth shut. I, myself, feel fortunate because I am one of the lucky few who has avoided domination by a male. Not that it was my intention. If only Gregory had lived! If he had, he would never have been the tyrant Edgerton is.”

Lucinda nodded firmly in agreement. “More and more I think I’ll stay single, too. I would hate to think of marrying someone who might turn into another Edgerton.”

“But what a shame if you remain single
—a lovely girl like you. Is there no one?”

Lucinda started to say no, but hesitated, struck by the image of Douglas that sprang into her head. “I...I’m not sure.” She caught herself. What was she thinking of? What with worrying over Charles, she had not thought of Douglas since this morning. Indeed, a miracle. Now, despite herself, her heart swelled with excitement at the thought of their kiss. She had just discovered, much to her surprise and dismay, that she wanted very much to see Lord Belington again, even though he was a forceful, aggressive, audacious male, not in the least like her father
—well, except for the fact that he did read books, which, she had to admit, had impressed her that day in Hatchards.

The visit with Felicia had raised her spirits immensely, Lucinda thought on the way home. Just being in the presence of a confident, courageous woman, instead of those namby-pambies at Southfield was rewarding enough, let alone the enlightened conversation she had so enjoyed.

Nothing was solved, though. Felicia was right about Edgerton. The truth of the tragedy held the key to all that was wrong at Southfield, and Ravensbrook as well. In her mind, Lucinda ran over the many different versions of the story. She couldn’t think what, but somewhere in there, something wasn’t right.

For no apparent reason, thoughts of Alethea popped into her head. Her cousin had not been looking well lately and she hoped everything was all right