A Rose for Beauty

Chapter 4

A carriage came to the house first thing in the morning to collect Clara and her trunk, while Anna and Lydia watched from an upstairs window.

“Well,” Anna said. “I suppose she has a friend left, after all.”

Lydia watched her leave with a pang. “Where will she go?”

“Does it matter? Better there than here.”

“It's just - I didn't expect her to go, too. I feel as though we're a sinking ship. Everyone is abandoning us.”

It was true that the house was considerably more deserted than it had been just twenty-four hours before. Most of the servants had left without notice, some carrying with them small articles of value, knowing that no one was likely to come after them.

Jenny was among the few that stayed. She entered the room with a knock and considerably more calm than she had the day before, and Anna acknowledged her with an irritated nod.

Jenny curtsied. “Miss Hartford, Miss Lydia? Your brothers are asking for you in the library.”

Henry, Thomas and William were clustered around the desk in the library, barely looking up from the large stacks of paper they were sifting through when the girls entered.

“Where's Clara?” Thomas asked.

“She left,” Anna said.

“Well, I'm sure she's better off,” said Henry. “The master of the auction house just left. It will take a fortnight to arrange the auction, during which time we need to find other lodgings.”

“Two weeks?”

“We're lucky they gave us anything at all,” he said dourly. “I think they would have turned us out on our ear if they'd been able to arrange things any faster. Our solicitor will be coming over later to separate the things of value from the items we will be allowed to keep. I don't expect that list to be a long one, but that almost makes it easier.”

“Where will we go?” Lydia asked.

“I'm looking into houses here in town, but I'm not sure I'll be able to find anything. There are a few options that looked promising until the landlords found out who I was. Then they were suddenly 'unavailable.' It's like we're carrying the plague.”

“Surely there must be somewhere for us to go, Henry!” Anna protested.

He shook his head, not in denial but uncertainty. “I'm sending inquiries to the towns nearby, but I'm not sure if anything will come of them in time.”

Just then, Jenny entered in again. “There's a letter for you, Master Henry.”

“Thank you, Jenny.” Henry took the letter and opened it. “It's about Briarwood Cottage! Apparently we can take possession at any time. It's been cared for and is in readiness for us, all we need to do is meet the keeper in Glasbottle to collect the key.”

“But that's wonderful, Henry!” Relief washed over them as fresh as a spring breeze, and new hope blossomed in weary eys.

“Wait a moment.” He paused, inspecting the paper again, as though he couldn't believe his eyes. “It says that in order for us to legally claim the house, all of Mother's daughters must take up residence and remain in the house for the first year. After that it doesn't matter, but if we want to live there, we have to take all three of you.”

The five of them looked at each other, the moment of jubilation crashing down into reality.

“How on earth will we convince Clara?”

Clara laughed in their faces when Anna and Lydia asked her to come with them to Glasbottle. Her hair was perfectly curled and her dress immaculate, and she offered them tea in Sara Oldfield's parlor as naturally as if it were her own.

“Frankly, there's nothing you can say that would convince me to leave my situation here,” she said. “Sara would be desolate without me, and has begged me to stay with her always.”

“What are you going to do,” Anna asked, “stay in their second-best guest bedroom until you are old and gray?”

“Would that be so bad? Although, her brother is quite handsome and not altogether indifferent to me, so perhaps the guest bedroom is not the end of the road after all.”

“You are a fool if you think he will have you now.”

Clara took a dainty sip of her tea, setting the cup back into the saucer without so much as a rattle. “We shall see. Things change, and after all, his father is not in the best of health.”

“Neither is ours! He has scarcely left his bed for the last two days.”

An angry flash in her eyes was quickly smoothed back into her indifferent demeanor, and Clara shrugged. “My being there will not make him recover.”

“But no one will let us a house, Clara! We have nowhere else to go!”

Clara scrutinized her fingernails for a long moment before she replied. “I cannot help you.”

“You mean you will not.”

“And what of it?” she snapped. “I will not be dragged down with you. Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse me, I have other matters to attend to.”

Then there was nothing for them to do but leave.

Henry scrubbed his hands through his hair. “We only have three days left.”

The air in the library was tense, not at all aided by the empty shelves. The valuable books had been crated up and sent to another part of the house along with other small items that were being readied for the auction. Only large furniture and anything considered too worthless to sell remained, leaving the room feeling quite desolate.

“Well, what about Duford?” Thomas asked.

“No.”

“Harcroft? Topby?”

“No, and no.”

“Have you sent to Fleckhill?”

“You know I have, Thomas. No one will rent to us.”

The two brothers stared at each other, the inescapable reality of their situation finally sinking in.

“It will have to be Briarwood Cottage, then,” said Thomas. “But how?”

Henry's mouth twisted in a grim smile. “Leave that to me.”