Alicia (7 page)

“There can be no doubt of it, love. I should not have set you to work this afternoon, and especially not in the shop.”

“I enjoyed it enormously.”

“I might have known you would,”
Alicia said with a helpless shrug.

When Lord Stronbert left the shop he assured himself that his daughter had been reunited with her governess, and waved them off on their way back to the Court, his mother and son having already departed. He had left his horse at the Feather and Flask but was not as yet ready to leave town. The carriage maker was located a short distance from the center of Tetterton and he walked there to consult on the progress of the carriage he had ordered. He was well known in the town and frequently stopped to speak with acquaintances as he made his unhurried way along the street.

His task accomplished, he was returning to the Feather and Flask when he witnessed Lady Coombs accosted by Mr. Tackar. He was unable to see her expression but he saw her reject the man’s touch on her arm. He could not hear their words, but the tone of them drifted to him, hers contemptuous and his sneering. Lord Stronbert was tempted to intervene in the confrontation, but Lady Coombs had rushed into the inn by that point and there seemed no further need. Tackar shrugged elaborately to the empty air and went into the inn more slowly.

Lord Stronbert went round to the stables and called for his horse. He passed the time of day with Hodges while he waited. “Is Mr. Tackar staying here?”

“Yes, milord. Said it might be for a night or two, possibly more. Flashy sort of fellow, ain’t he?”
Hodges asked companionably.

“Yes,”
Stronbert agreed with a frown. “I hope he does not stay long.”
He mounted his horse then, waved to the ostler and rode to his home. A row of poplars led on either side from the entrance gate for half a mile before the carriage drive swung around to face the mansion.

The Court was a fifteenth-century stone building with twin castellated towers and parapet. Including the gabled west wing there were close to a dozen imposing oak-paneled reception rooms, an extensive library, several offices, thirty bedrooms, a solarium, and various domestic areas and storerooms.

Lord Stronbert, in addition to his immediate family of his mother and two children, housed within the ancient pile of stones half a dozen impecunious relatives, a governess, a tutor, scores of servants, and an army of cats and dogs. He had lost his wife, Marcia, two years before to consumption. She had been a distant relation of his mother’s and a saintly, meek woman. He had married her because she fell in love with him, and because she was kind to everyone and he respected her. The children had been greatly distressed by her death, but Lord Stronbert had half expected it, as her constitution had never been strong. He had left the Court very little during that first year after her death when the children were bewildered and frightened. Now he journeyed to London more frequently and visited friends in other parts of the country, but he was seldom away for more than a month at a time.

The butler, Williams, greeted his arrival quietly as he took coat and gloves from his employer. “The dowager marchioness asked that you wait on her in the minor parlor, milord.”

“Thank you, Williams, I will go to her now.”

He found his mother still dressed in the puce gown with its hideous orange stripes, although the dinner hour was approaching. She was sitting, straight backed, on a Windsor chair, and she was scowling.

“You sent for me, Mother?”
Stronbert asked, as he bent to place a salute on her cheek.

“Nigel, you spoil that child,”
she declared emphatically.

“Which one?”

“Both of them! But I am speaking of Helen. You should not have taken her back to purchase that bonnet.”

“Why not?”
he asked with a quizzing look at her under his sleepy eyelids.

“You will spoil her.”

“But, Mother, it was my understanding when you left the house today that you had promised to purchase a bonnet for her.”

“And so I did. But not that bonnet.”

“Oh?”
He raised his eyebrows slightly and swung one leg over the other. “I thought it enchanting.”

“But I had refused to purchase it,”
she retorted querulously.

“So I understand. Why was that, Mother?”

“Because that little chit just threw it together,”
she pronounced, her temper starting to flare again.

“Well, I have not met the little chit yet, but if she can throw together a bonnet like that, I shall look forward to doing so.”

“Was she not there when you made the purchase?”

“No, her mother finalized the transaction.”

“The girl is a beauty,”
his mother sniffed. “Has no right to be waiting on one in a shop.”

“If their circumstances warrant the action, Mother, I can only find it admirable that they have the spunk to do it.”

“I shall shop there no longer,”
she pronounced flatly.

The note of steel entered Stronbert’s voice. “Yes, you shall, Mother. And you will do so with a better grace than is your wont.”

The dowager marchioness toyed with a fan in her lap. “It cannot be any concern of yours.”

“If you refuse to patronize Lady Coombs’s shop, others in the neighborhood will take their cue from you. I will not have the woman ruined for a passing fancy of yours. She is like to have hard work of it as it is. Do you agree?”

“You think me a crotchety old woman,”
she declaimed plaintively.

Stronbert’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “And so you are at times, my dear. I will have your promise.”

“Oh, very well,”
she grumbled. “Agatha is in bed with the migraine and will not be down to dinner. And the general has ridden over to his friend in Dastor.”

“You remind me that I should be changing. Until dinner, Mother.”

* * * *

Alicia and her daughter were seated before an array of veal cutlets, pigeons, asparagus, lamb, salad, apple pie, and tarts when Mr. Tackar entered the dining parlor. She had been enjoying the warmth of the fire near the table, and the spotless table linen and good plated cutlery, as well as the delicious food. But all this was changed when he entered; her appetite was on the moment destroyed and she wished nothing more than to be in her room above. Felicia glanced up as Tackar seated himself at the table without asking leave. Tackar murmured to Alicia, “You would not wish to make a scene, Lady Coombs,”
as he watched her eyes flare.

“You are wrong, Mr. Tackar. If you do not reseat yourself elsewhere I shall be more than happy to make a scene. Or leave. You have destroyed my appetite.”

His suggestive eyes traveled slowly over her body and he replied, “And you have whetted mine.”

“Are you going to leave our table?”

“No.”

Alicia rose and Felicia rose with her. Without a backward glance they left the room. Alicia stopped in the hall to speak with the landlord. “Is Mr. Tackar staying at the inn?”

“Yes, my lady. Perhaps for a night, perhaps longer. He could not be more specific, he said.”

“Thank you.”

When Alicia and Felicia reached their room the older woman closed the door and barred it. Felicia’s puckered face showed her confusion and fear. “What does he want, Mama?”

Alicia regarded her daughter thoughtfully. “Oh, lamb, it is so difficult to explain.”

“But I must know,”
Felicia responded stubbornly.

“Yes, I feel you must. I have explained to you about your courses and what they signify. You have seen animals mate on the estate. Do you understand that this is how children are produced? That men and women mate in somewhat the same way?”

Felicia dropped her eyes to her hands and whispered, “I had not thought about it.”

“No, when one is young and shielded from certain realities, one does not. When a man and a woman wed they mate so as to have offspring. My mother did not speak to me of this, and I had not thought much on it either. All children are conceived by mating, my dear. It is a fact of life. A woman may at any time conceive a child through bedding with a man. Men sometimes conceive a...desire to bed a woman. I am not sure if this happens with women also; I have not experienced such a desire. That does not mean that it does not exist, though.”

“Are you trying to tell me that Mr. Tackar has conceived such a desire for you?”
Felicia asked incredulously.

Alicia choked back the laugh that bubbled up in her, an almost hysterical laugh. “Yes, my love, that is what I am trying to tell you.”

“But you are not wed to him!”

“Well, you see, that does not preclude such a desire developing. An honorable man would not pursue an honest woman in such a situation. Mr. Tackar is not an honorable man.”

“Does he not wish to wed you?”

“No, he wishes only to bed me. And he has offered me insulting inducements to effect just that. I have, of course, refused him, but he is not willing to accept my rejection.”
Alicia passed a weary hand through her auburn curls. “I had hoped that our presence here would not become known to him. I have no doubt that that odious Mr. Parker could not wait to blab it about. He insinuated, in my hearing, that there was some sort of illicit arrangement between Mr. Tackar and myself.”

“No wonder you slapped him!”
Felicia exclaimed. “How could anyone believe such a thing?”

“There are some women, my dear, who out of a financial need, or perhaps a desire,”
Alicia shook her head wonderingly, “or it might simply be out of a weak moral character, do just that. I should think for the most part that young maidens do so out of ignorance, and with their ruin have nowhere else to turn. There have been fatherless children born at the Grange and I have done what I could for their mothers and themselves, often enduring the censure of the vicar and the village. It is why young women of your station are so carefully chaperoned.”

“What will Mr. Tackar do?”
Felicia asked anxiously.

“I do not know. Perhaps he will leave me alone, perhaps he will persist. I am sorry I had to tell you this,”
Alicia admitted sadly, her eyes on Felicia’s drawn face. “But he is an unprincipled man and if he should... Men have been known to force their attentions on women, who are weaker physically. I have told your uncle of Mr. Tackar’s suggestions and made him promise that he would take no action. You know that you can always go to your uncle, do you not, Felicia?”

The girl was sobbing now, her head buried in a pillow on the bed. “Do not speak so, Mama, I beg you,”
her muffled voice came. Alicia sat on the bed beside her and stroked the glowing hair, whispering comforting words.

“Do not weep, my poppet. Mr. Tackar is unlikely to take any drastic measure, I assure you. But we are alone, you and I, and unprotected, so you must be made aware of the dangers. Avoid him. It is unfortunate that he knows where I am, but what is done is done. We live in a civilized time and nothing is like to happen to me. Dry your tears. I shall help you with the hats.”

* * * *

Morning brought a sparkling fall day, but Alicia’s face was drawn and her daughter looked peaked. There was an unspoken agreement to discuss Mr. Tackar no more. “Come with me to the shop today,”
Alicia offered. “You shall choose some material for a new gown.”

Felicia pretended to enter into the project with enthusiasm, but her heart was heavy. Her mother had burdens enough without the added one of Mr. Tackar. She blushed at the remembrance of her mother’s explanation of mating. If one had to do that when they were wed, she wondered that so many people married! Still, since almost everyone did, perhaps it was not that bad after all.

Felicia had never seen a naked man and her face prickled with heat at the thought of it. She had not, in fact, paid a great deal of attention to her own body, though it had held a certain fascination as her breasts had developed. She had been cautioned by nurse and governess to keep herself well covered at all times. It occurred to her that she had never seen anyone else naked. Not even her mother. It must be frightfully embarrassing to be naked before someone else, especially a man.

Felicia chose a deep green crepe, explaining to her mother that she would be able to embroider flowers on it when their mourning period was over, and in the meantime could have a little cream-colored lace at the wrists and neck. She sorted through the vast array of laces before deciding on just the right one for the dress she had in mind. When she had collected everything she needed and was about to depart, Alicia said, “Do not coop yourself up in the inn all day. Mr. Harper has assured me that there is almost always a horse available for you. I should not like for you to miss such a glorious day for a ride.”

“Perhaps after luncheon, Mama. I am anxious to be started with the dress. Shall I see you for your meal?”

“Yes, dear. Enjoy your morning.”

Felicia wandered out into the sunlight, her parcel under her arm. The leaves on the trees were turning colors now and there was the smell of wood smoke on the air. She breathed deeply and reveled in the crispness brought into her. Autumn and spring were seasons full of anticipation, of promises of things to come. Felicia felt an eagerness within her which made her eyes sparkle and her lips draw into a merry smile. A young man passing by doffed his hat at sight of such an enchanting creature. Felicia smiled shyly at him and went on her way to the inn.

Before ascending to her room, she asked the round, bustling Mrs. Harper if Mr. Tackar had left yet and was told that he had. In her relief she danced up the stairs and into the room where she flung the parcel on the bed. She then hesitated momentarily before returning to the door and barring it. Felicia placed herself before the large rectangular horse glass on its trestle feet which could be tilted to any angle. She studied her reflection, starting with her hair and face, and allowing her eyes to descend to her shoulders, breasts, waist, hips, and feet. With an embarrassed toss of her head she began to disrobe in front of the glass. First the long, tight, pleated bodice, with its large fichu, and long sleeves ending at ruching at the wrist; then the full skirt with ruching at the hem. She intended to make her new dress in the one-piece style. Her chemise, gathered at the neck with a drawstring, and her petticoat were discarded in a heap at her feet. Finally her black tights were removed and she stood before the glass naked.