A Sense of Propriety

Chapter 22

"And . . . your home?"

Cordelia knew then that her friend was prying for information about her past. She had always been a curious one, and she was surprised that the lady had not brought up the topic of her parents sooner. She supposed she had herself to blame. She had never been very encouraging of the subject regarding her family.

Though she thought of a correct way to word her home, nothing seemed appropriate. Her home had been nothing more than a dilapidated little two-bedroom cottage a few hundred metres to the west of this grand palatial home in which they walked. Her lips parted, about to respond, when the sound of a carriage was heard travelling along the road towards the house.

The ladies paused in their walking, neither aware of someone coming to visit. They moved a little quicker than their previous pace and rounded the corner of the house just in time to see an extravagantly designed Chaise drawn by four strikingly bold chestnuts halt before the entrance to the house.

They held back then, waiting as a footman opened the door to the horse-drawn vehicle. An old gentleman stepped down from the Chaise first, his dark grey hair trimmed and neatly styled. His dark coat moved with him as he gazed about the landscape, his frame tall and shoulders square.

Alicia shifted beside her before she sucked in a sharp breath of alarm when the man faced their direction.

Cordelia glanced at her friend quickly, noticing the sudden pallor of her skin. "Alicia?" she asked in concern.

The young lady's lips parted, her eyes burning with fear and confusion. "It is my father," she whispered. "What is he doing here?"

Cordelia could not answer the question, for as they turned their attention back to the gentleman who she now knew to be Lord Storrway, a second gentleman stepped from the carriage. He looked no younger than Alicia's father, his face one of pride and self-confidence as he surveyed his surroundings.

Alicia suddenly clasped her hand with a tightness that seemed able to cut off her fingers. "That must be him!" she whispered in a frantic tone. "No, no. He is not supposed to come here!"

Her voice started to rise in volume, forcing Cordelia to train her focus on her. "Alicia, calm down. You must not let them see you like this," she urged as she clasped her hands in return, watching with concern as tears spilt down her friend's cheeks.

"No, please. I do not want to see him. I never wanted to see him. Please, do not let me see him!"

She was nearly hysterical, but Cordelia tried her best to hush her desperate pleas and tears. Her greatest concern was the visitors hearing her and seeing her in such a state. It certainly would not do well for her reputation to behave so uncouthly, but the more she tried to soothe her, the worse her hysteria became.

Just then, two figures arrived beside her, and she glanced up to notice her brother and cousin. But Edward's eyes were trained on the panic-stricken lady, and he did not hesitate in enclosing her in his arms and pressing her face gently against his chest to prohibit her shaking.

"They cannot see her like this," Cordelia stated softly as she watched Alicia sob quietly into her brother's coat.

"I will take her into the house through the back entrance," Edward began, following a slight rocking motion in a silent attempt to calm Alicia. "But you must keep them occupied while I do so. The Dowager and Marquis are out on a social call, and Lady Topham is sleeping."

Cordelia winced at the thought of having to entertain a couple of gentlemen whom she had never even spoken to before, and she chanced a glance towards her cousin, who had remained silent and impassive as he watched Alicia sobbing in Edward's arms.