Note: Set in 1865 Victorian England, this Resident Evil Alternative Universe is based on Gothic Horror and the tropes surrounding it. Gothic Horror thrives on the taboo themes of death, perversion, insanity, incest, and of course, monsters. Incest is a trope that often appears in literature, movies, and TV surrounding the genre (Crimson Peak, Flowers in the Attic). It's often used as a means to establish the character's morality and sometimes leads to a character's downfall. Gothic Horror provides a glimpse into the darker aspects and moral dilemmas of humanity.
"...the mind oscillates between attraction and repulsion, worship and condemnation. Gothic fiction displays many such areas of emotional ambivalence-" A quote by David Punter (The Literature of Terror) where the author describes people's fascination with what they deem immoral.
For story-related images, check out my deviantart SilverSerpentA1 since I can't post them here.
Chapter One
Welcome Home
Lady Alexandra Spencer was a proper English lady, chaste and demure, and socially appropriate. She never went out alone and never seemed to have anything unpleasant to say about anyone; she was the perfect picture of propriety. She was, however, plagued by nasty rumors of hysteria stemming from a married man's affection for her that his wife had not appreciated. Alexandra turned him away, naturally, but by then, the damage to her reputation was already done. She fully expected never to marry and to be doomed to the life of a spinster in her brother's house once the elderly Lord Spencer passed his title and lands fully to her dearest brother.
Though, she did not mind that overmuch. Her brother never really denied her anything, and if truth be told, even occasionally encouraged her unwomanly pursuits.
Though, she wasn't sure that he'd appreciate her most recent pursuit. You see, a new secret society was making rounds in London. It was rumored around London that in The Order of the Black Lily, the members were up to every kind of terrible thing. For once, the rumors were true. Alexandra had decided that she was tired of playing only a woman's role so that she would beat them at their own game. So, she had. Over the past few months, she had managed to start a society where men could go and experience the actual wants of men without repercussions. The domination of, subjugation of, and rape of women…but they paid homage to the Dark Goddess who blessed them with their freedoms.
It was a ghastly little fete, with Alex's in a faceless bone-crowned mask, but oh, it was also so delicious because they didn't see that she was subjugating all of them in turn. While they watched someone be cut down or did so themselves if the mood struck them, and of course if she gave her permission. They'd raised her up to the visage of a dark goddess, a symbol of all deep depraved desires. She hoped that Albert would approve, or at least understand, he knew of some of her displeasures with her womanly expectations.
Though he'd been out so much as of late, she was starting to get worried he was courting a young lady, which would be just awful. Having some dithering brainless woman around, someone she always had to…play with. She much preferred to be herself in her home, as much as she was able. When Albert finally married and brought his new wife home, she would not be able to do that any longer, which meant that she would have to get married in turn…and give herself to a husband. Which she was loath to do. Alexandra Spencer would belong to no man.
Ever.
So while she waited for her brother to return from his time away, she worked on her new cloak, stitching a golden lily into the luxurious black velvet. No one in the home would dare ask her what it was for; they were all petrified of her, as they should be. Alexandra prided herself on being beautiful and terrible in almost equal measure.
Viscount Albert Spencer, or so her brother had been deemed since their elder brother Hans' untimely demise, was finally coming home from a lengthy tour in India. While initially, Albert had joined as a standard officer, he'd quickly moved through the ranks into a command position. His return to London was as a highly decorated 'peacekeeper.' A hero, according to the chatter. How quickly society changed their minds when a title became involved. The truth of it was, her brother had never been anyone's hero but hers.
No one ever really paid them visits at the manor, so when there were sounds of hooves on the cobbles, she set down her work and hurried to the window to see who it was. "Albert!" She exclaimed and spun on daintily slippered feet and hurried (most unladylike, picking up all her skirts and running like that, but who would say anything?) down to meet him. As if she were some child and not a Lady, but…it was her brother, sporting a very dark tan from his time in India, at least when compared to her milky pale coloring. Alexandra was proud of her brother's accomplishments, but she was delighted to have him home… she'd been terribly worried while he was away. Sometimes she would wake middle of the night in an awful fright, thinking he'd died or been torn apart by a tiger or a heathen hoard.
Some of the letters he'd gotten from her were quite rambling, as she would sit and write to him when she couldn't go back to sleep, and she sent all of them, naturally.
But all that was better now because if India couldn't take him from her, then nothing could. Alexandra had, of course, been prohibited from accompanying him to India…as she wasn't his wife…and only spouses and their children were allowed to travel with officers and only superior officers in command of a post. Albert, a Captain now, hadn't been promoted to that ranking, but in his letters, he'd mentioned that he had commandeered a home somewhere in one of the country's wilder provinces.
Alexandra's racing thoughts were quickly brought on task as she made it to the front steps.
"Albert! You're back!" When she smiled for Albert, she looked like a different person, as if there was sunlight inside her, desperately trying to escape. She practically glowed. He gracefully sat astride the jet black stallion, the gold on his uniform catching the sun, his hair blonder than she'd remembered. She couldn't simply stand there on the steps and wait for him. Eagerly, she bounded over to him, unable to contain her excitement. Over to him and his two horses. Beautiful creatures, but she did notice a lack of his…belongings? Where were his trunks?
Surely, he had trunks somewhere?
"I hadn't known you would be back today. I was planning for next week. Nothing's ready…" Alexandra said as his last letter detailed an estimated time he would return, and she'd made arrangements for his proper reintroduction and welcome home party accordingly. Here he was a week early, ahead of his belongings. "And…well, I'd have the servants come for your things, but I don't think we take horses inside the manor." She reached out a hand, waiting for him to take it, not in a shake, but he'd been kissing the back of her hand due to their etiquette classes since they were children, so they had a few odd habits.
Although, the idea that she would have him all to herself for an entire week before she'd have to share him with society did appeal to her. He could relax, bathe properly, rest from his long trip back, recuperate, and of course, storytime. She'd read some of his tales of India in his letters, but she wanted to hear all about it from him. Terribly exotic. An entire world away, and someplace she would never be able to travel to, her constitution was not the best. She doubted either a long sea journey or a jungle would do her anything other than ill. Her childhood fever had left her…a bit like a china doll, beautiful but fragile. And very sharp at the edges if you weren't careful of them. She'd cut you to ribbons if you mishandled her. Of course, that was only if Albert didn't get to it first.
He was very protective.
A genuine smile flashed onto Albert's usually stoic face. He didn't wait for the horse to come to a complete stop before dismounting, appearing to be just as excited to see her as she was him.
"I hadn't thought to announce my early arrival. I figured this would give me time before I'm expected to attend social events. My luggage should arrive within the week. Besides, I wanted to surprise you. Have I?" His grin widened as he spoke. He took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on it gently in the warmest of greetings as if she was the only thing he had genuinely missed about England. Perhaps a touch more affectionately than was customary between siblings, but he had missed her terribly, and it was tradition.
He drew away from her. Her slender hand remained engulfed in his as he pulled her around the horses to the white mare. "She belonged to one of the rebels. Prized, the line extending generations. So I took her as punishment for the insurrection, an added slight. They're quite revered, Arabians and rare." He looked from the horse to Alex. The smile had faded into a smirk. "The other, the stallion, I received as a gift. They shall make a lovely pair."
Alex couldn't help but reach up and gently stroke the mare's neck, she was a beautiful creature, and the gift was so thoughtful. She would have appreciated anything he'd brought home for her, and she doubted that this was the only thing. At some point, Albert had probably seen that she wasn't really marriageable and had taken to giving her gifts either when he returned from trips or on different vital days. They'd grown larger over the years, but they still meant so much to her. He meant more to her, of course, but things like this? Coming home early to surprise her, bringing her these gifts? It all played into why he was so important.
"Wonderfully." She was surprised...and excited. It had been so long since she had the opportunity to be alone with him. "I look forward to riding her. I haven't been practicing as much while you were away…" she admitted a bit self-deprecatingly. Although she preferred having his company, his instruction had given her quite a bit of help, even if she rode side saddle and he astride.
Glancing at the stable hand —who had come up to see to the horses— she didn't bother saying anything to him. Their staff knew their business and went about it for the most part without issue. "We'll get them settled in the stables properly then." She kept her hand curled in his as she gently tugged him towards the house.
"And we'll get you settled as well." She would likely be fussing over him for days yet, making sure he was comfortable as possible, not letting the servants do everything, as she needed to make sure that some things were done correctly. It was a bit beneath her station, but…of all the men in the world, he was the one that she would cater to. She paid him most of the respects that a wife should pay a husband since she didn't have any prospects on the field. "Some tea and sandwiches? Something stronger?" She wouldn't look poorly on him for drinking this 'early,' while Alex was closer to a teetotaler than not. She did not judge those too harshly who imbibed. She only really drank when it was rude not to and always did so in minimal moderation.
Alex didn't enjoy the lack of control. She never felt safe when intoxicated. Even in her own home, she got very nervous, so she abstained for the most part. It was not a common thing, teetotalism, just yet. Mostly popular with the lower classes of women who had lost husbands to drink or the marms who looked to clean up the streets of the drunkards who would sell their children–and often did–for gin. Alex cared little for that level of charity, though once she was married and was forced to pick a cause to work towards, simply to delay the child-rearing, she figured that would be a good one to choose.
"I wouldn't turn down something slightly stiffer, despite the hour. It's been a long journey, and I could use something to ease the edge." Off playing a civilized gentleman, it had been years since he'd returned to London and Alex was sure he'd changed in his time away. Hardened, most likely. Albert didn't say it outright, but the implication was there.
"I assume that Earl Spencer is away?" Hope briefly showed through his expression. The two not getting along was an understatement. Albert was the black sheep. His mother was a whore, and he was a bastard. Alex assumed the discourse was part of why Albert had joined Her Majesty's Armed Forces and ran off to the world's far reaches. It was ironic he would now inherit everything the Earl owned one day.
"Yes, he's in London, I think spending time with that Cossack of his, Sergei. Just me for company, I'm afraid." She replied, glad for it.
Albert didn't move his hand away from hers. Instead, his fingers curled around it as Alexandra led him inside. The one consolation of his return was his sister. He clearly adored her. Not even in front of the manor staff did he let go despite the taboo implications. They weren't twins; they didn't even know if they were entirely related. Lord Spencer had been somewhat of a collector of wards and bastards during their childhood. Though, only three had survived to adulthood. And two eventually remained. They were the last, and Albert would do anything to make sure it stayed that way.
Once they were inside the lushly appointed manor, a maid came along behind them, waiting for her Mistress's instructions. "Sarah, have the others see that Albert's room is made ready. He's back early, but I expect it to be done before he wishes to retire for the evening." Fresh linens, a thorough dusting after the sheets were removed from his things, a fire if he wished one, all of it. They had a few servants in the home, so it shouldn't be impossible, considering that there wasn't all that much extra to do while Lord Spencer was in London, leaving Alex home alone.
"Yes, ma'am." She dipped a curtsey and then another, "Welcome home, Sir." Sarah was newly employed by the Spencer Estate. A pretty little thing in an ordinary sort of way.
"Thank you, Sarah." He didn't give the obligatory 'it's good to be home' because other than seeing Alexandra, it was apparent he could give a rat's ass about being back at the manor. Discreetly Albert flashed another signature smirk, "Hopefully, my stay proves…lucrative."
Her brother had always enjoyed games, and he had always been good at them.
A faintly amused smile shifted onto Alexandra's face as she watched Albert flirt with the help. All while holding his sister's hand. Hmm. Cad. She had half a mind to be jealous. To show her displeasure, she gently tugged, pulling his arm in her direction, and very delicately pouted at him. "Unless you'd rather go spend time with the servants than your sister?" She said just a bit cattily, though she hummed and let the slight go. If anyone would feel her ire later, it'd be Sarah. Unfair, but she wouldn't tolerate a tart in their employ. It would be disastrous if the woman became with child due to her brother's carelessness. Though Alex would manage it, swiftly and decisively.
Albert's attention shifted from the maid over to Alex as the little mouse scurried away in fear of her. The squeeze of his hand was another clear indication of Alexandra's displeasure towards his actions.
"Never Dear Heart. Your company is always preferable. But…" A shrug that implied he also enjoyed physical gratification. Something they were well aware they shouldn't seek from each other. True siblings or not, the subject was quite taboo. "I'll be more discreet with my games."
Alex accepted his apology readily enough. Even if there was still a bit of silly girlish jealousy lurking in her eyes. Alex didn't like to share, she never had, but the possessiveness grew far worse after her fever. Truth be told, they were both guilty of having…overprotective streaks. The kinder way to say it, some of the adults had talked, some of the servants had talked. Alex had caught the help at it a few times. Thinking they were strange and wrong and off. It was highly improper how they acted. All the usual refrains, but she couldn't help it. As far as Alexandra was concerned, he was hers first. She was his always, but he was hers first. Everything and everyone else came second or below…and it was only in the realm of relations that Alexandra came second. Which she hated. "Please just not in the house, Dearest. I simply couldn't bear it." That was all she said about the idea of him seeking his fun in the house. There was genuine hurt there, but she did her utter best to hide it. The thought of some servant girl having something over herself?
Unacceptable.
Her brother had always been astute. She understood he merely was seeking an opportunity to quell certain…urges. Alex settled herself next to him on the couch, settling her skirts with a dainty hand.
Albert carefully brought her unencumbered hand to his lips before resting his cheek against the back of it. Blues eyes closed for a moment as he relished the contact. "If the idea upsets you terribly, I'll refrain for now."
"Did I tell you? I think they're courting one of the resurrectionists for some reason." She mused, finally letting go of his hand, though her fingers trailed along his when she let go. She moved away to make his drink. "I've no idea exactly why, but Lord Spencer's health has been starting to decline." She didn't sound upset about the idea. While she 'got along' better than Albert did, it was only because she played her submissive role…because she didn't have a choice in the matter.
"Some good news." He remarked as she moved away from him, and he took his place on the sofa. "At least while he's away in London, I'll be free a while longer. You might have mentioned the resurrectionist in one of your letters. Do you believe the old fool is searching for a way to live longer?" Ridiculous. "He'll waste away our fortune on pseudoscience seeking that fountain of youth."
If Spencer had wanted to, she could have been sent to one of the asylums. Especially when Albert was away. She had no agency. Without him to protect her, Alexandra had to survive on her wits alone. She poured his scotch. Thankfully, they had some in the cellar due to the recent plummet in most distilleries' quality.
"Here you are, dearest." She said, returning with his drink in the beautiful crystal tumbler, pulling the bell cord for a servant as she passed it on her way back across the room. "As for lucrative, what do you have in mind now that you're home?" Alex asked while she waited for one of the other servants to arrive to ask for some tea for herself and finger sandwiches for both of them.
Albert slid over as she returned to him, taking the glass with a smile and making room for her beside him. He sipped as if it had been a while since he'd had a good glass. Alex was confident in her taste. She was sure the swill they drank in India didn't compare.
"Why I'm here to be the Lord of the Household, aren't I? Then that's what I shall be until I am told otherwise. It is Viscount now." He snorted, amused by the title. Society had looked down on him. Now? He was a bastard with an official title. They'd have to call him Lord.
She smiled, a vague little thing, accompanied by a flash of teeth as she almost bit at her lower lip but managed not to. She didn't explain it. She'd been Lady of the House for quite some time…and there was something galvanic about the idea of him being Lord to her Lady. Cut through her like lighting through a tree. "Then we shall go riding together, and whatever else my Lord wishes to do before his welcome home party."
He brought her hand to his cheek. She automatically started to gently brush the back of her fingers along his skin, just a tiny, gentle motion. He was a giant cat, clever, so often very aloof, independent, and with claws to match…but occasionally, he'd require attention. Perhaps they were both like cats. When he let go of her hand, she merely replaced it in her lap and waited for the tea to arrive.
Distracted as Albert lulled by the softness of her skin, she didn't reply to his concern about their fortune. Realizing how outwardly they'd been displaying their affection, Albert quickly let go of Alex's hand and brought the glass to his lips instead. They were both aware of how 'strange' their behavior was, how inappropriate. For the most part, neither of them would care, but something was holding her brother back, something she couldn't quite place. But she had a hunch it had to do with the episode with Sir Phillip Astley and his shrew of a wife.
The servant dipped her curtsy for them, "Welcome home, My Lord." Matilda uttered politely. She meant it. She had raised all the children since the Lady of the House had passed away decades ago.
"Thank you." Albert politely replied, "I'm glad to be home, at least, I am now."
Matilda smiled in response and looked over to Alexandra. "Ma'am?" She inquired, anticipating that they needed something. Matilda had always been one of the most no-nonsense women that Alexandra had ever met, and she was pretty fond of her. You always knew what to expect from Matilda. She didn't dissemble and wasn't prone to gossip.
"Matilda, would you be so kind as to make me a spot of tea and some finger sandwiches for Albert and me? I can't let him starve until dinner." There were no sharp looks for Matilda. She didn't require them. The woman knew her place, and she knew that if her opinion was wanted, she would be asked for it. Alex…doubted that she could part with the older woman since one of the few things she remembered from the worst of her fever had been her, reading fairy tales aloud and her keeping Albert away, so he didn't catch his death. While at the time, all she had wanted was her brother, as an adult, she understood that they both would have ended up sick.
Albert nodded over to their former nursemaid, "Haven't deserted us yet, I see. Something to eat would be lovely. It's been an awfully long trip." They were both attached to the old woman. She was the closest thing they had to a mother after all, and she had taken such good care of Alex when she was sick.
Albert had never been sick a day in his life.
Matilda nodded, dipping another curtsy as she headed out of the room, closing the door so they could continue speaking in private.
"We'll be free a while longer, you mean…as to the money, I've been concerned about that, but…my head 'is too pretty to worry over figures.' Perhaps you'll have more luck." She quoted their Father, with obvious irritation. Alex was exceedingly bright for a woman, and she knew how to handle money, though she rarely got the chance to show it off, as doing so with men would have made her even more likely to be a spinster. It would have seemed improper and quite rude to show up men at a dinner party. No, she was relegated to the women's parlors, stuck talking about weddings and births and the trials of home and hearth. All of which made her want to take those tiny dessert forks and tear out their throats.
"If you can get him to part with the ledgers, I can make sense of them…" She muttered something quietly, gesturing to her skirts. "I just am 'too prone to hysteria' and other such nonsense." Not entirely untrue, she did have fits of temper from time to time, but they weren't any worse than a man's destructive rages. She wasn't allowed that because she was a woman. So she was 'Hysterical' and had to watch herself when men could beat their wives in their temper and face little to no repercussions.
Obnoxious.
"I'm sure I can convince Mr. Marcus to lend me a copy." James Marcus was Earl Spencer's lawyer and long-time 'friend.' If Lord Spencer had friends. Truthfully, he had flies that buzzed around orbiting. Whether it was for wealth or power, it certainly wasn't because they liked the man. "I'll look into the spending and do my best to keep him from losing our fortune on silly pursuits." Lord Spencer wasn't easily manipulated. He would have to be careful. Honestly, Alex was better with numbers than Albert. She always had been. Albert was bright, even more so in a moving chess pieces sort of way, but he had always been best physical skills. Swordplay, fighting, riding, physical activities.
Becoming an officer had suited him quite well.
"I would have brought you back an elephant to ride, but they wouldn't transport it on such short notice." He remarked, changing the subject.
And there he was, clearing away the clouds with suggesting that he'd have gotten her an elephant just to ride around. She was so happy to have him home.
Her laugh was bright, like tiny bells. An elephant? Goodness. "Where would we keep such a beast?" She'd only seen an elephant at the Zoo in London, terribly big things, and so loud. She positively shivered with delight at the description of man-eating tigers, leaning forward and adding some cream to her tea and stirring it before she sat back.
"Why, we would build a zoo, of course. I saw all manner of beasts while away. Elephants, rhinoceroses," pause for dramatic effect, "tigers." He flashed her another row of teeth. "I saw a man torn apart and dragged into the jungle. Blood and pieces of his entrails trailing behind as he screamed, still alive. They like fresh prey, you see, and tigers can weigh nearly seven hundred pounds." It would, at the very least, be something no one else had. Not to mention, it would certainly make the rest of society jealous if they came for tea and they had a pair of tigers at their heels. Or, they could simply feed the tigers their enemies. There were a few Alex had in mind.
The cup didn't shiver in her hand as she sipped at it, nor when she placed it back on its saucer and glanced over at him. "I think I would like a tiger, more than an elephant. Such a ghoulish thing, tearing a man into pieces." The way she said ghoulish didn't imply she meant it the same way other women would. Instead, she sounded delighted rather than repulsed. Seven hundred pounds, the thing would have to have a paw as big as her head…such a powerful creature.
Magnificent.
"There was little left when we found him. Gnawed right through the bone and all. They can digest bone. Perhaps on my next trip, I'll bring you one. I'm sure a tiger can be taught who their master is, like any animal." He shrugged as if capturing and training a tiger was no big deal. It was unlikely Albert would be going back to India. They both knew it, but it was apparent it hadn't quite set in yet. He was home for good this time. He was heir to Earl Spencer's fortune and the only son left. The old man would likely not let him run off again to play.
"You'd bring me a tiger? That would be splendid…though 700 pounds is a bit large for the city. We could keep him on the grounds. It would give him a bit of room to roam." She wasn't sure that she wanted him to go back to India, not now that she had laid eyes on him again. The separation did not sit well with her. The idea that he would be so far away again? That he wouldn't be just down the hall, but across the world?
She worried if he did something so brazen how the others would come scratching after him, hens desperate for a worm. Detestable how they fawned after marriageable men, cattily sabotaging one another with smiles, all to grant another person utter power over them. Her brother–once ever so politely scorned would now be right where their brother Hans had been not a few years ago. Chased by all of the women because he had been heir to Lord Spencer. With his military success in India and his occasional disregard for society's conventions, the eligibility only increased.
"Dear Heart, I would bring you all of India if it only fit on a boat." The honest truth. He would bring her whatever she asked for. "But I doubt I shall be returning at all. I'm sure Lord Spencer will see to it that I'm grounded properly in my place. But at least I'm afforded a bit of peace before the circus."
"Oh yes, the circus, I'm assuming that your welcome home party is also going to be a parade of marriageable women that Lord Spencer has deemed fit for your station as well…and judging from the RSVPs I've gotten already? It's going to be quite colorful. The Astley's will be there, with I believe…a niece." Her lip curled faintly, speaking of them.
That man had pawed at her in his drunkenness, and somehow, it was her fault. As if she'd been asking for the brute to tear at her dress and breathe his foul breath against her neck as he panted filth that she assumed was supposed to make her want him. It was disgusting and smelled of liquor and smoke. Thankfully he hadn't ruined either her dress or her virtue. He'd been far too drunk to navigate her skirts. Though she had been somewhat shaken by the whole thing at the time, the fall out from it had left her angry. Astley was one of the reasons why she had started her little…society. Men like him were base creatures, and one day…she would ruin them with what they'd been getting up to under her watchful eyes.
They would all suffer. Some would hang. Beasts.
Albert's head cocked to the side slightly. "Will they? Well, then I'll have to make sure I'm adequately prepared to welcome them." Despite his civil words, something dangerous flashed in his eyes. He knew what had occurred, perhaps not entirely because it had been portrayed in a letter, but Alex had written him about what Sir Astley had done and then how his wife had blamed her for it. How society blamed and shunned her. To think that the man had his hands on her. The possessiveness wasn't a trait that only Alex displayed. Albert merely tended to be more open with it. Both the Astleys would face his wrath for what they had done. The look on his face said as much. "The same way they sought fit to welcome you." She had no doubt he intended to utterly ruin them.
Matilda reappeared with the tea tray faintly clattering ahead of her. Alex's kettle of tea, two cups and saucers, cream, and a small array of finger sandwiches, including some of Alex's favorite cucumber. It wasn't a full-on luncheon, but she didn't know if Albert really felt the need for something heavier, though if he did, she had no doubt that he would let the fact be known…this was his home, and he was Lord of the house. It was his prerogative to have his needs met. She just hoped that he'd choose to ruin a few society eligibles rather than chase the maid's skirts. Sarah had a job to do, and it wasn't lifting her skirts for him.
Fallen Women had little to no hope in society, while men were…far less chastised. In fact, it was almost tacitly approved that a young man would visit some of the night houses. At least, provided the company he kept at such establishments was conventional. Society abhorred a sodomite. And if visits to the brothels were a habit? People would talk.
"If you would like to assist me in that welcome, I wouldn't oppose. The slight was yours." Albert noted. Or she could trust him to accomplish the task. Either way, he would take care of it.
The image in her head shifted from a faceless soldier being torn apart to the Astley's…she didn't dislike the idea. Fed to a wild beast, pulled into the trees still screaming to be devoured. Positively magnificent. She hummed as she picked up a sandwich and delicately bit into it when he made his offer. While she could theoretically ruin Sir Astley herself, it would be far more accessible with her brother's help. Not to mention she appreciated the offer to avenge her honor. Albert was the only one who would do so. He was the only one who saw her. "I would be delighted to assist. It would be terribly rude if I did not welcome them to our home. I know Lord Spencer will be in attendance, but as Hostess, it is my honor and privilege to make sure all of our guests are…taken care of."
Her words were sweet, but her smile was wicked. She had missed these games. Albert was so good at playing them, and it was always such a thrill to be in the know when he was working magic. Even better, it was for a good cause. The destruction of the Astley's may not bring her back into good social standing, but it would be so delightful to see that she may not actually care. "I am at your disposal, Dearest. You have but to ask. Always." A bit more meaning than for a simple game of society cat and mouse. She would always be there for him. Always.
"Do you have an idea yet? I know you had promised vengeance for me in your letter, but this is a bit sudden. I don't want you to rush your plans simply because ." Albert had been thinking about how he planned to ruin them both for quite a while, but she doubted that he planned to accomplish it right after he got back. Often his plans required a bit more time to come to fruition, at least if she recalled correctly. If he planned to play the long game, starting it at his welcome home party was quite fitting, an excellent way to return to society.
"The spark that feeds the flame, my dear." He assured. She was just as depraved as him when it came down to it. She'd never judge him for the things he'd done or things he'd enjoyed. He'd never be happy with a weak little mouse that trembled when he spoke of crushed bone and bloody entrails. Her hands were steady as ever.
"I thought perhaps, I'd start with seducing his wife. And before you say anything, don't worry, I'm not actually going to fuck her. That little bitch has the face of a horse. I'd have to cover it with a sack to manage. It's no wonder Astley tried for something better." It was just the two of them. He could let the vulgarity slip a bit. "But she was clearly jealous of you, and a bit of flattery is all it will take to ease my way in. As for you, I merely need you to give me a few minutes and keep the other guests from interfering. Particularly Sir Astley. Can you do that? I'm not asking you to be alone with him. I wouldn't want you alone with him, but keeping the interest of our guests, I'm sure you can manage."
It would take some time to gain enough trust to whisper sweet suggestive lies into the woman's ears, several visitations, most likely. Then it would be figuring out precisely what webs they needed to spin to utterly ruin them. It would come as she spilled their secrets to him, or he gained better access to their home to snoop. Whichever came first.
Her brows pulled together for a moment at the suggestion of seduction, but they smoothed out as he spoke, the wicked little smile turning into another laugh as he went on about Lady Astley and her horse face. It was true. She was unfortunate looking. It was a relief that he wouldn't sully himself with someone who looked like that. "I can provide a distraction, of course. Perhaps we can even engineer something else. Find an exotic, high-class night woman and have her play the part of a lady or a servant…use her to….entice some scandal."
Her Dearest was quite bloodthirsty, but Alexandra was also fierce in her own way. She wasn't allowed to go out independently, but she'd always wanted to go to the underground fighting rings in London. They were notoriously bloody things, with all sorts of people from the lower classes, which Alexandra didn't enjoy…but watching them would have been something. Perhaps she could convince Albert to take her? He may even enjoy taking her to something like that, aside from the potential 'shame' of it. She didn't want to ask just yet though, that would break his peace that he had more than earned. There was always time for that later.
He was home now.
The Black Lily had given her a disgusting look into the base desires of men, and while she had no empathy for most women who submitted to them, she also found most of them utterly revolting. "Lord Astley will get lost in his cups over the evening, and well drunken debauchery with an unwilling lady at a social event where others are not likewise engaged? Could be disastrous indeed." The woman would be a well-paid actress. Usually, such an act would lead to the woman's social ostracizing, but if he were caught…by his wife….breaking his marriage vows? Oh, that would be such an evening.
If Alex had a choice, she would prefer that her brother not have to court Mrs. Astley at all, but she did trust him not to betray her like that. Not with someone who had caused her such distress. Albert wouldn't do something intentionally to betray her trust. Never. In fact, he would do everything in his power to ensure anyone who did had the favor returned.
"It's a start, but not enough." After all, Astley's shame would only last a short while as society laughed at him for the publicly displayed affair, but it wasn't uncommon for a man to seek company elsewhere, and they would soon grow tired of mocking him. Lady Astley would give him an uncomfortable amount of scorn for it. Possibly even separate and return to her family for a time. But then, was Astley really losing? They wouldn't divorce. That would hurt her name too much. Albert supposed they would need to know which family carried the pocketbook to really hurt them.
The world revolved around money, after all. Albert wanted to leave them not only disgraced but destitute. They needed to pay for what they had done.
"Lady Astley's shame would be far more damaging, but I understand your reluctance at my plan. I can easily play the part of leading her to the scene. Shame I can't just…challenge him to a duel. I can see why it used to appeal. It ended matters swiftly." No doubt that he could put a bullet between Astley's eyes before the drunkard could even raise his pistol. But, the jail time and possible hanging weren't worth it. Astley's death wasn't worth it. Dueling had been illegal for at least a century, and it was disgraceful for a lord to conduct such activities. But the look that would be on Astley's face as he was caught in the middle of a rut in front of all those people would be pretty amusing.
Alexandra….knew that she cared too much for her brother and too little for everyone else, occasionally falling into a bit of melancholy over the fact that she was never going to be a good woman. Society's stigmas were hard to escape, even though she loathed most of them. Being so different was hard. She played the part well enough, but her heart would only ever belong to Albert. Though they had been apart for a long time, it was as authentic as it had been when they were children. When they always had, inevitably, retreated into their own little world when in one another's presence. They preferred one another's company to that of the larger world. It had led to small social slights and Father being angry with them before, but losing so much of their 'private life' when he'd left (Ran away from her, because she'd been offensive somehow.) had devastated her. Her first letters had been tear-marked in her grief, apologizing for driving him off and not knowing what was wrong with her — as close as she had ever really gotten to naming anything between them and how she was sorry for the fact that it had driven him off.
Of course, he'd responded promptly as he was able to and explained that it was not anything she had done at all and soothed her worries as best letters could do. It wasn't as if they had stopped corresponding. He'd written to her as frequently as he was able to. He had made time for her and her silly letters during all the fighting and his adventures. That had done much to remind her that the fault wasn't with her. As had his kind words.
While she wasn't positive, she'd never seen anyone else get any letters from him in the household. Perhaps something formal to Lord Spencer, but she'd never seen it. She had been the one to share with Hans their brother's exploits. (Hans had been quite interested to hear about Albert's well-being, before his untimely death, their older brother…he had been a mid-step between the private world of the two youngest and the world at large. He had never seemed to bear them and their eccentricities any ill will, even if he did not fully understand them. He remembered Alex's fever and how it had torn Albert to pieces. Alex had mourned his loss. He had been a good brother to both of them as far as she knew.)
"Well, it will be your first day back in society at large. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor was it sacked in one. I am sure that we'll find plenty to do to ruin the Astley's in time." She said with a gentle smile, her brother loved playing long games, but there were moments where he seemed impatient, too. He would kill a man for touching her while at the same time wishing that their entire family was tossed into the gutters for their slight. She noticed, but didn't find it a negative thing, more…endearing. He grew so incensed over insults to her that his temper sometimes stood in the way of his plans. It was very flattering to mean so much to someone.
The only thing that she wished was to assist him in the same vein, should someone insult him. While she did have her own weapons that men did not believe a woman could possess, far more cunning and slow planning was involved in those undertakings. It was part of why she enjoyed these games, playing alongside Albert so much. It allowed them to use the weapons possessed of both genders with surgical precision to extreme effect.
About the dueling, while she wouldn't mind seeing Lord Astley dead, she would mind it being so quick, and she would mind her brother swinging from the hangman's noose. "Swift is more than he deserves. Those few minutes were the longest in my life…a bullet is far too kind a mercy for him. If we can't have him devoured by tigers, devoured by the choleric streets of London would be balm enough." Her tone had turned to ice, not directed at Albert, but no mask of polite civility could hide that cold rage as she thought of the sickly scent of him on her skin left by his mouth. At her throat, it almost made her wretch even now. She was…untouchable, not his to touch, not his to fuck, not his in any manner.
Lord Astley may not have violated her virtue, but it was one reason she detested intoxication and one of the reasons she despised most men.
Albert's jaw clenched as she spoke about the incident, and a snarl nearly formed on his face, but the reaction was downplayed. "I will ensure it. You are not his or anyone's to touch." It was more than just that. It was the fact that Astley had tried to force her against her wishes. Albert didn't consider Alex a meek thing, unable to defend herself, but that situation was damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Albert took a sip from the crystal to ease some of the awkwardness caused by his extreme possessiveness. "About India….I hadn't meant for it to seem like it was your fault, and I apologize for any heartache that may have caused you. There was mounting pressure from Lord Spencer, and with Hans still next in line, it seemed the best option for a touch of much-needed breathing room. I would be lying if I said it had nothing to do with you, but there are things better left unspoken between us."
He would not say it.
Alex's face colored faintly at Albert's words about things unspoken, and she looked very intently at her tea for a moment until he changed the topic. It was best left alone because it was untenable. There were things they couldn't have. She couldn't handle the full-on naming of her shame and the rejection that would more than likely come with it. Thankfully, he didn't continue to speak about it and let it go. Giving Alex something else to focus on after she took a much-needed sip of her tea. It was hot, but it wet her throat nicely.
"I was just being hysterical. I'm sorry that you had to see me like that." She said, brushing the topic aside with a physical gesture of her hand across her skirt—no more of that.
It was a demon they shared, but he was being gallant and shouldering the blame of it.
He didn't have to elaborate further. Alex knew what he was alluding to. Best they didn't press the conversation further. "I just, I wanted to ensure you knew it was my demons. Not yours." he would leave it at that. He wasn't blaming her for anything. After a short pause, Albert changed the subject entirely, probably attempting to breeze past what he'd just said, "I wasn't here for the funeral. Do you know what happened?" The letter hadn't addressed how Hans had died. In fact, it had been very formal. His brother was dead, Albert was now heir to the estate, and requested home immediately. The whole arrangement had been worked out with Albert's commanding officer without his knowledge by their Father before he was even aware of it. It was irksome the amount of pull Lord Spencer had. There were questions Albert wanted to be answered.
A good deal of his twelve siblings had died from an illness. Albert was the only one of them never to come down with something. There had been a time Alexandra was so sick, it appeared she was going to die. Albert would sit outside her room -they wouldn't let him in to see her- and talk to her through the door for hours. And when she was resting, he'd read. Sitting on the floor outside. They eventually set a chair out for him, but they didn't let him see her for weeks. Sometimes Hans would come to sit with him. He had been a good brother to both of them.
Yes, onto a less fraught with anxiety topic, the death of their oldest brother, Hans. She set her tea back down and sighed lightly. She hadn't known what to say about that. How to address it with Albert at the time. "It was an accident in London. He was going into the city, and there was an accident with the carriage…" She paused, remembering the gruesome details that she'd heard, putting a hand to her chest for a moment before soldering on. Her bloody mind did not extend to those who had shown her genuine kindness, those who she cared for. She'd react the same way if something awful were to happen to Matilda.
"The horse spooked, or something, but the carriage tipped…and he was…caught between the carriage and the road. He was dragged to death underneath it. His new driver wasn't much help. But Pompey is not an easy horse to spook, Albert. Pompey doesn't even jump when someone's behind him." She didn't know the particulars of the new driver's employ. All she knew was that she had seen Hans off to the city for the week—he'd be back for the weekend to take her out for her new gown, and then the next time she'd seen him was at the wake, and half his face was a mask because it was misshapen and crushed.
"A carriage accident? And the driver is still in our employ?" Albert was baffled at that. "I know which horse you speak of. The stable master taught us to ride on it because of its temperament when it was younger. You could run around it yelling, and it just stood there chewing at the grass bored of you." The whole story made little sense. With a horse steady, reliable, and not easy to spook, something uncommon would have to scare it.
Pompey was now one of their older working horses, not old enough to be useless, still solid and sturdy, with clear eyes and a calm disposition. He'd only reared once that Alex knew of, and that had been when someone had dumped a bale of hay from the barn's loft not a foot in front of him. He'd handled being shoed, pulled carriages in dreadful weather…and taken apples from her hand all with the same peaceful disposition. "The driver's still here. He tumbled off the carriage when it tipped, so goes the tale." When she finished, she gently wiped her eyes to make sure they were free of water and smiled a little.
She'd shed her tears for Hans already.
"I should like to have a conversation with this driver," Albert stated, darkness to his tone. They both knew something didn't seem quite right.
"I know…but Father didn't send him away, so I felt that I couldn't, not like I can control the house help." She also hadn't been in the right place to demand it, either. Children died, especially if they got sick like most of their siblings had…but to lose Hans so suddenly had jarred her so painfully. Unsurprisingly that was when her nightmares about Albert being killed had really started to wake her up in the night.
"His service was beautiful, though his betrothed was not in attendance, which I felt strange. He was devoted to her. I'd even grown to…well…not mind her presence. She made him so happy, Albert. Why couldn't she be there for him then?" And be there for her, too. She hadn't had anyone to sit with besides their Father…and Lord Spencer was not known for his kind heart when it came to his children. He was a hard-hearted man. Buried one wife and then eleven of his children and bastards. He didn't have any tears left. If he'd had any, to begin with.
Hans had certainly not been the weakest of them. He had been the one to teach Albert to fight, after all. Several years older than them both. He was kinder surely than some of their other siblings and indeed their Father, and perhaps better in that regard, but like Albert, he'd never been sickly. It was odd to think he'd been snuffed out by something as trivial as a carriage accident.
And then there was the betrothed. Alexia Ashford was a pretty thing, and she had smiled an awful lot compared to their family. "He adored her, and she didn't bother to come to his funeral?" Albert questioned. Another piece that didn't quite fit right. "What was her family name? Ashford, wasn't it?" A lot of questions were left unanswered. It just seemed so unbelievable that Hans was dead. Or perhaps it was the manner of his death. It almost felt more like their brother was off on holiday, and he'd be strolling in through the door at any moment, teasing them for whispering like squirrels like they used to do when they were younger.
"Alexia Ashford, yes. She's the twin sister of Alfred Ashford." Alex replied. The Ashfords were another pair of children that society had spent some time gossiping about, but more so the brother as time had progressed. Alfred Ashford was highly feminine. It was rumored that he wore his sister's clothes for quite a bit longer than boys wore nightdresses as children. That he still did behind closed doors, if the gossip was to be believed. Alex was almost willing to give it credence because the man wore make-up in public. It was faint, but Alex knew her beauty products. She could tell when someone used lightener on their skin. It was pretty brazen….or more likely compulsive.
Alfred Ashford was not a brave man. He seemed to be a bit queer. Stunted somehow. Alexia was startlingly different, however. Bright and collected…Alex had not thought that girl had a mean bone in her body, but after the funeral, she thought perhaps she had been wrong. "Alfred's become Lord Ashford now, with their Father gone…I suspect that may have something to do with why she did not feel the need to mourn our brother…not when she's got her riches without ever having to pay a dowry. Or bear an heir." Gossip said all sorts of things about that family, from the brother's feminine tendencies all the way to Alexia having murdered both future husband and Father. She wondered what society said about her when she wasn't listening.
"Perhaps we shall pay the Ashfords a cordial visit as well. To see how the poor woman is holding up after the deaths of her betrothed and her Father. I'm sure she was too broken-hearted to attend." His sarcastic tone implied he didn't believe that was the case. No, most likely, Alexia Ashford intended to use their dear, kind-hearted brother for his money and title. Whether she was responsible for his death was up for determination, but people who truly cared wept over a body.
"I feel awful, telling you all of that business with Hans when you've just gotten home," Alexandra said, gently reaching back for Albert's hand as they were alone, and she wanted to hold on to him. Their loss was significant. Hans had been the one who would engage the pair of them. The others had almost instinctively shied away from them both as if they were poisonous snakes or some such. Hans had been a beacon to show them that they were part of a family and loved. It wasn't uncommon for older children to take the reigns of rearing while parents did more important things. So while Father had been distant, Hans had been their paternal figure, and he'd done well by them. Alexandra had not felt she could entirely confide in him, not nearly everything, but she trusted that he meant well for her, that he loved her, and he had never mistreated them—so she had respected Hans as well.
"Grim business, but it's better that I'm aware." Albert took her hand once again and leaned his face against it. "I needed to know, and I intend to investigate further. Something appears…off about the whole thing. Perhaps it's merely my skewed perception of Hans, but it just doesn't seem-" He wasn't sure what it seemed yet. He was the next in line. If something was amiss, they both wanted to be ahead of it. Albert was always one to take risks, but calculated ones. India had been a test of that. So many things could have gone awry, injury, illness. Albert had fought and killed during his tour. His letters were watered down a touch, most likely, so Alex didn't fret.
Every bit of tension left her as Albert took her hand. Nothing could possibly matter more than this. He grounded her, drained all her worries away with a simple touch. She hummed quietly, a melodic and soft sound. "I agree, something isn't right, and we shall find the truth of the matter now that you're home." She affirmed, despite the potential awfulness surrounding her brother's death. Hans had been a saint in her eyes. Who could have wanted him dead?
"After I've acclimated," Albert said. They could play detective after he had some time to rest. Alex didn't want everyone to know he'd come back yet. She wanted that selfish time for herself. It had been so long since he'd left.
Albert's eyes dozed sleepily as Alex brushed her fingers against his hand but grew more attentive the closer her lips drew to his knuckles. His other hand reached over and dared to brush against her cheek, touch her hair. It was subtle but lingering.
"You would have liked it, perhaps not the heat and bugs, but the colors, the exotic silks, and spices. I wish I could have taken you. Some more surprises are coming with my things. I certainly wasn't going to come back empty-handed."
He changed the topic for her benefit, again, and it was hard for her not to smile, "I would have loved it. Even with the heat and the bugs, because you were there. You know that, Dearest. Anything else is…welcomed but not necessary. Though I do always appreciate presents." She curled her hand around his and gently brought it to the middle between them. She brushed her cheek against the back of his knuckles, just at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes drifted closed slightly, and she sighed out the very last of her tension about his being gone.
It hit her. Albert was home.
"I'm a touch tired. If you don't mind, I may rest a bit." Albert stated as he began to doze with her. It was something of a five-hour time difference, and he'd been up since he'd departed. He'd never slept well traveling, surrounded by strangers.
Not enough trust.
Her eyes opened, and she sat back up and nodded. "Hmm, your room isn't ready yet. I thought I had a bit longer before it needed to be cleaned." She mainly was musing to herself, but she was still idly playing with his hand, holding it in one hand and then trailing her fingertips along the back of it while she thought.
Lazily shuffling off the side of the couch, he straightened his coat with his unoccupied hand. The other still rested in Alex's. Part of Alexandra wondered if she hadn't replied, could they have just sat there, touching one another forever? She wouldn't mind that. May not get anything done, but she wouldn't mind all the same. It reminded her that he was home and real and safe. Nothing could go wrong at that moment, nothing at all.
She hummed a moment as she watched him. "You can sleep in mine, so long as you tell me what you would like for dinner?" She offered, with an almost shy smile, they hadn't slept in the same bed in a very long time, but she was rather keen on the idea of him safely asleep in her rooms. Of course, they had guest rooms, but he was not going to sleep in a guest room in his own house. She would not allow it, and her room had the windows open, so there was a bit of a breeze keeping things from getting stuffy.
"That's my fault for wanting to surprise you. I'm afraid I didn't give you adequate time to prepare. I was in a bit of a rush. Now I feel like I can finally relax." Despite the possibility of foul play regarding their brother, he was confident that Alex would look after him as he rested. "I would murder someone for some veal cutlets. All I've had is mutton for the past two years." It was an expensive cut of meat, but Alex would make an exception for the occasion.
She couldn't help but laugh a little. "No need to go that far, Albert. I'll send someone to the butcher before they close for the afternoon. I'm sure it won't be a problem." With town not that far away, it wouldn't be much to send someone into town to fetch the cut of meat he'd wanted. With her brother dead and the Earl away, it had primarily been only Alex and the servants around. She'd subsisted on chicken and fowl dishes for the time since they were easier to keep on-site and not have much of a mess to deal with. This was a country house. After all, it seemed silly to not have at least some game on site.
"I'll take your bed if it's the only suitable one made up." Albert tried not to seem too eager to nestle into the blankets and bury his face into the pillow covered in her scent. While he probably shouldn't be in her bed-chamber, to begin with, he was the Lord of the house with the Earl away. Albert could do as he pleased. Let them talk. It would only take her brother catching them once for them to learn to keep their mouths shut.
It wasn't the only bed made up, but she didn't say that, finding that omission was the lesser sin to an outright lie.
She didn't let go of his hand for most of the trip upstairs, as no one passed them by until they were on the second floor of the large house and heading for Alexandra's small suite. It contained a parlor, a dressing room, and her bedroom all connected together, with the parlor being at one corner of the house, allowing for the most windows and thus the most light. She used it for reading most of the time, but her sizeable black cloak was sitting spread out across a table and part of the floor towards the windows. She didn't linger. Instead, she took him through to her bedroom, first checking to make sure that the windows were open in both to promote a bit of a breeze. She was on the morning side of the house, so in the afternoon and evening, it wasn't so devilishly hot during the summer, though in the winter, she required an extra quilt and a fire all evening.
She looked around the room, the dark wood floors partially covered with relatively bright area rugs, with pale-colored floral patterns. The four-poster bed had the drapes pulled open to allow for airflow, and her duvet was thin enough that it would hopefully at least be comfortable for him. The wallpaper was a very pale blue, almost the softest blue of the sky on a gray morning. Perhaps not the most stylish bedroom, but Alex found her color palette to be calming, and since she was the one who had to sleep here and she didn't have any visitors to her rooms, why did it matter? (That was how she'd gotten Hans to agree to her requests when she'd wanted the new paper put up.)
"You rest, I'll see to everything, and I'll wake you in a few hours?" She thought of offering him a bath before dinner but decided that it would be easier if he could bathe before bed since she did not know the state of the clothing he'd brought back with him, and the ones he wore would need to be laundered. Hans's belongings were still here, and while his nightclothes may fit Albert, none of the rest of his clothes would. Hans had been far closer to the average than her brother. Albert was a tall man and relatively broad of shoulder. She wasn't sure what of Albert's old clothes would fit him, nor what he would want to wear that was clean. So, bath after dinner.
"If you could, slightly before the bell?" He wanted to make sure he was adequately dressed as it was his first night him being head of the household. If she left him, he was worried he would sleep through the evening.
Once in the room, Albert closed the door behind them. Was it appropriate? Probably not, but it was best they have privacy. Alex had not thought anything about the door being shut behind them. Mostly, she'd thought about reminding him that if he wished for a breeze while he napped that the parlor door had a lock on it and that he could leave the bedroom door open…
His fingers began to unbutton his uniform jacket as she spoke. The coat eventually laid out on the bench at the end of the bed. The suspenders were slid from his shoulders, and he untucked his shirt, loosening it before sliding it off over his head. The boots were next. He sat down on the edge of the bed to slide them off. He wasn't about to lay down fully dressed, boots and all buttoned up to the neck. It was hot there, and he never bothered with nightclothes; it was likely he'd grown used to sleeping in a particular state of dress while in India.
She finally followed him with her eyes to where he had stopped by the bed about to remind him of the breeze when she was struck quite dumb. She couldn't do a single thing but watch him as he undressed. Wide-eyed, transfixed, rooted to the spot, the only noise being a very small one deep in her throat when he pulled his shirt over his head. She didn't mind the tan line at his collar. It was to be expected. All military uniforms were high necked…no, what she was admiring was the way his shoulders shifted as he moved, his musculature as his arms flexed to remove his boots. She had seen some of the stable hands swear off shirts while they dealt with some of the heavier summer chores, but that had always been from afar, and it had never been…Albert, in her room, after touching her so forwardly not moments before.
Alexandra reached up. Her hand made it to the height of her own waist as if to reach for him before she managed to stop it. The flush across her cheeks was very pronounced as Alex snatched her hand back to her chest. As if she'd touched something scalding. She hadn't even been within five feet of him, not even close enough,…but she quickly withdrew. She did mutter as she left the door open behind her. "There's a key to the parlor door in the bedside table…" her voice higher pitched and seemingly strained. She cleared her throat delicately to get it back under control before she finished. "I'll lock the parlor with the master, so you can have your privacy and a bit of a breeze, so you won't get too warm. I'll wake you before dinner."
Once she achieved the hallway, she locked the parlor door. Then, tucked the master key, the skeleton that unlocked all the doors in the house back into its special pocket in her layered skirts and went searching for some air, hoping that her face wasn't still beat red–which of course it was…but Lord help her she couldn't quite get her mind under control. Usually, things were manageable, but the length of time he'd been away was undoubtedly at the root of all this distress. Things would settle within the week as they acclimated to one another again, and all would go back as they ought to be.
At least, that was what she was telling herself over and over until her breathing calmed enough that she felt ready to face the house and get the servant sent off after the veal cutlets with all haste as the butcher was sure to close relatively quickly. Once that was done, she found Matilda in the kitchen, "We're having veal cutlets if you could send Patrick-," the head butler, "for them. Please plan the meal and wine with them in mind. It's for Albert."
Matilda would see to everything. Alex wished that she could see to everything, but…all she could do was retreat to the sitting room and sip on her tea, now gone quite cold, but it was better than sitting idle…because she was pretty concerned that she would not allow her brother his rest if she did not stay seated right there on that spot.