15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“ I suppose you’re going to do something charitable today, Alicia? I must say, I think you’re being very selfish. With your father away on business, I’m here on my own. The only person I talked to yesterday was Mrs. Pattinson, and I don’t want to spend another day solely in the company of the housekeeper,” Alicia’s mother said.

They were sitting in the morning room, surrounded by piles of dresses donated by the women of the ton. News of the charitable drive had spread quickly, and Alicia had been inundated with the offloads of half the county. Wardrobes had been emptied, last season’s fashions discarded, and everyone was talking about the fact of their doing something to help the poor. Alicia had been kept busy receiving the arrival of ladies’ maids bearing their mistress’ donations, and now she was busy sorting the dresses into usable piles, and deciding what to do with them all. At her mother’s words, she looked up and shook her head.

“Actually, I’ve been invited for tea at Leamington Grange,” she replied, and her mother looked at her in surprise.

“By Lord Crawshaw?” her mother asked, looking suddenly interested.

But Alicia shook her head. The invitation had come, not from the heir, but his sister. Ernest was in Manchester on business at the school there, and Isobel had invited Alicia to take tea with her and her mother. The invitation had come as a pleasant surprise, for Alicia was not normally invited to social occasions on her own merit, but rather, played second fiddle to Lily, whose aristocratic credentials were more favored.

“No, by Lady Isobel and the Duchess,” Alicia replied.

“Well…I must say, it makes a change from your serving soup to orphans and cutting up perfectly good dresses to clothe urchins in,” her mother replied.

Alicia smiled. Her mother had been horrified at the suggestion of using fashionable fabrics to make clothes for the poor. Reluctantly – having been reminded of her Christian duty by Alicia – she had donated one of her dresses. But her attitude towards the project was as it was to the soup kitchen, and she was adamant in her opinions against Alicia’s continued involvement.

“We’re going to discuss the charitable work,” Alicia replied, though in truth, she did not know why she had been invited to Leamington Grange that afternoon, and having finished sorting out the piles of dresses – and having taken delivery of a dozen more – she set off by carriage to take tea with Isobel and the duchess.

***

L eamington Grange was a grand house, home to the Duke of Crawshaw and his ancestors for ten generations. Over the years, the house had been added to – a new west wing, an upper floor to the rear, an orangery – but the current duke, rather than adding on, had made many alterations to the interior, and as she stood waiting for Isobel in the hallway, Alicia looked around her with interest.

“It’s because he’s blind, isn’t it? Everything’s made simpler for him,” she said to herself, marveling at the many and varied adaptations the duke had made to his ancestral home.

There were no steps, only a continuous marble floor, nothing over which the duke could trip. The furniture was arranged in such a way as to ensure it would not be bumped into, the corners all smoothed and without any sharp edges. The windows had been enlarged, letting in as much natural light as possible, and the staircase had been fitted with a rope next to the banister, allowing the duke to feel his way to the top. The doors leading off the hallway had been widened, and there was nothing on any surface that could be easily knocked over or damaged. Everything had been thought of, and it made Alicia think of the school, and how it, too, could be adapted for the benefit of the blind children.

“Alicia, you’re here, how wonderful. I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I was just helping my father with something. He’s a little tired, so won’t be joining us. But my mother’s waiting in the drawing room. Come this way,” Isobel said, smiling at Alicia, as she led her from the hallway along a wide corridor towards the drawing room.

“It’s very kind of you to invite me. I was just admiring the adaptations you’ve made to the house. It’s all so perfectly well designed. I hope we can do the same at the school,” Alicia said, as Isobel turned to her and smiled.

“I’m sure it’s possible. My father was instrumental in making the changes. He knew what was necessary, and he made sure the adaptations were suitable to his needs. Like this – look, the door handles are raised a little higher than in other houses, for his height,” Isobel said, indicating the drawing room door in front of them.

Alicia was impressed, and Isobel now led her into the room, where they found the duchess sitting in a bay window, looking out over the garden. A table was set for tea, and the duchess rose to greet them, smiling at Alicia, who curtsied.

“How nice to see you, Alicia. Won’t you come and sit down?” she said, beckoning Alicia forward.

Duchess Grace was an elegant woman, and though advanced in years, she was still very pretty, her hair elegantly styled, and wearing a peach-colored dress and mauve shawl. Isobel was the image of her mother, and as they sat side by side, there was no doubting the relationship of mother and daughter.

“It’s so kind of you to invite me to take tea, your Grace,” Alicia said, as a footman came to pour and serve.

“It was Isobel’s suggestion. We wanted to thank you for all your hard work. I don’t know what Ernest would do without you,” the duchess replied, glancing at Isobel, who nodded.

Alicia blushed. She did not want anyone to think she was doing what she was doing to garner thanks. The charitable cause of the school, the plight of the poor and needy…it had touched her heart and made her realize she could not stand idly by and watch whilst others were in need. Ernest’s example had inspired her, and she was willing to do whatever it took to ensure the school was opened, and the poor of the district fed and clothed.

“Oh…but it’s Ernest…Lord Crawshaw who does all the work,” Alicia said, blushing, as she sipped her tea from a fine china cup.

Isobel raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t listen to her, Mother – she does more than anyone, ” she said, and Alicia wondered if perhaps the duchess was under the impression there was another who had taken credit for the work…

“I understand you and Caroline are working together on a new project to do with dresses. Is that right?” Isobel’s mother asked.

But before Alicia could reply, Isobel interrupted.

“Yes, but it was Alicia’s idea to collect the dresses and turn them into clothes for the children. Caroline likes to think…” she began, but Alicia quickly interjected.

She knew what Isobel was doing, and she was grateful to her for fighting her cause, but it was not charitable to denounce Caroline over tea and cake. The viscount’s daughter was an exasperating character, but Alicia would not stoop to competing against her for the adulation of others. She did not want praise, but only to see the school opened and the poor taken care of.

“She likes to think we both have a hand in these things, and we do,” Alicia replied, glancing at Isobel, who fell silent.

“Caroline always wants to help. She’s forever calling on Ernest. I must say…she can be a little…wearing at times,” the duchess said, and Alicia could not help but smile.

“I’m sure Ernest knows what he’s doing,” Alicia replied.

She was sad not to see Ernest that day. She had smelled his cologne as she entered the hallway, the lingering scent of lavender, and had pictured his smiling face coming to greet her. But his greeting, and his company, was always tempered by the accompaniment of Caroline. She was always there, and it was impossible to catch a moment to themselves.

“I wonder if he does,” Isobel remarked, looking pointedly at Alicia, who blushed a deeper shade of red.

“Her father’s put a lot of money into the schools. But I fear it gives her a sense of entitlement. Don’t you agree, Alicia?” the duchess asked.

Alicia did agree. There was a great deal she might have said about Caroline, but charity held her back. She knew the damage of gossip. She had seen it in her friendship with Lily, whose scandal sheets served only to fuel the fires of speculation and leave untold damage in their wake. A word in a drawing room could so easily become canonical, and Alicia had no intention of giving Caroline further reason to dislike her. She did not want them to be in competition. There was no competition, as far as Alicia was concerned, though it seemed Isobel had other ideas.

“Perhaps…yes, but if it means the schools are kept open and the poor are fed and clothed, I think that’s a good thing, don’t you?” she replied, and the duchess could only nod and agree.

Further dainty morsels were brought in by a footman, and the conversation turned towards more practical matters – the making of the clothes for the children and the next soup kitchen.

“Alicia organized everything herself, Mother,” Isobel said, and it seemed she would persist in extolling Alicia’s virtues to her mother, even as Alicia was uncertain as to the purpose of this hagiography.

“It’s only a little sewing and soup making,” Alicia replied, but the duchess shook her head.

“Not at all, Alicia – it represents a great deal more. We who have more can’t rest on our laurels. Look across the channel. We know what happens when the poor find a voice and discover their sorry state…no, it’s our duty to do what we can to help. You and Ernest…you’re doing something truly meaningful,” she said.

Alicia was flattered, but she would have far preferred to be doing something practical, rather than listening to the extolling of her own virtues. There were clothes to make and dresses to collect, the arrangements for the next soup kitchen still had to be made, and Alicia had promised Ernest she would look in on the building works at the new school whilst he was away.

“It’s very kind of you to say so,” Alicia replied, and the duchess smiled at her.

“Ernest thinks very highly of you, Miss Saunders,” she said.

Alicia blushed. She did not know what Ernest thought of her. Not really. Their conversations were, on the whole, practical, and they had shared little in the way of sentiment and feeling. Alicia admired Ernest, and whilst there was no doubting her attraction to him, there was also no doubting his enthrallment to Caroline Pickering. Alicia had no intention of making a fool of herself or of hoping for something never to be realized. Alicia knew Lily and Isobel wanted to play matchmaker, and now it seemed the duchess, too, was involved…

“And I think very highly of him, too. He’s…a remarkable man,” Alicia replied.

There was no doubt in her mind as to Ernest’s qualities. Whilst other men of his rank and class amused themselves with the idle pursuits of the rich, Ernest had turned his attentions to philanthropy. His intentions were not those of politics or power, but charity and virtue. He was a remarkable man, even as Alicia knew little as to why he should have chosen such a path, when it would have been all too easy for him to live a life of leisure.

“It’s his father’s influence. I can’t take any credit for his ways,” the duchess said, but Alicia shook her head.

“I don’t believe that – a mother’s love and influence surely pervade one’s life,” she said, and the duchess smiled.

“Well…perhaps that’s true. I don’t know. But I do know he’s done something remarkable in establishing the school in Manchester. He wants to help those less fortunate than himself,” she replied.

“But his father didn’t order him into philanthropy, I’m sure. What led him down such a path?” Alicia asked, for she was curious to know the true nature of Ernest’s motivations.

Whilst altruism was a noble reason, there had to be some other motivation behind his actions. The duchess glanced at Isobel, who smiled.

“My brother…he loved a woman once, but she didn’t love him, not in the same way. He was heartbroken, but…he came to see…charity as a means of overcoming his hurt. He threw himself into the pursuit of charity as a means of overcoming the hurt he felt,” she said.

Alicia was somewhat taken aback. She had not realized Ernest had ever been in love, let alone thought him to be stalked by tragedy. Her heart went out to him, and she could not for the life of her think why any woman should not love a man like Ernest.

“How terrible for him,” she said, and the duchess nodded.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want to think we’d told you. But I’m sure you can understand why he’s so…reticent with his feelings,” she said, and Alicia nodded.

Ernest’s behavior made sense to her now. If he did have feelings for her, it was clear he was holding back for fear of being hurt. Caroline’s presence only added to his woes, and perhaps he feared hurting her as he himself had been hurt, too…

“I see, yes…how sad. Were they betrothed?” she asked, and Isobel nodded.

“The date of the wedding was set. But…she found love elsewhere. My brother was magnanimous. A lesser man might’ve ruined her. But not Ernest. He loved her, and in that, she was a fortunate woman,” she said, shaking her head sadly.

Alicia sighed. It was a tragic story, but one she knew better than to speak of with Ernest. It was a secret she would keep, even as she felt uncertain why the duchess and Isobel had trusted her with it. Had they done the same with Caroline?

“Very fortunate,” Alicia replied, taking another sip of tea.

Talk now turned to other matters – the goings on in the county, the coming events of the season – but as Alicia returned home that afternoon, she could not help but wonder what feelings Ernest was holding back. He was a good and honest man – proved not only by his philanthropy, but in his charity towards a woman whom he had loved and been rejected by.

And now he’s forced to suffer Caroline, too, Alicia thought to herself, wondering if it was time she made her own feelings clearer, for all their sakes…