There was a certain bleakness to that. Alice hesitated, then said gently, “I was sorry to hear you lost your mother, Lucy. How old were you when she died?”
Lucy helped herself to apples and rice custard. “Eleven, and before you ask, we moved around when Mama was alive, too. And the day after her funeral, Papa put me in school.”
“I see.” Alice didn’t, not at all, but she was beginning to see a pattern. The way Bamber had dumped his daughter on Alice and left gave her an inkling of what kind of life the girl might have had.
The details of Lucy’s history, scant as they were, gave her much to think on, although it was mostly speculation. She and Lucy needed to become friendly enough for an exchange of more personal information, rather than this cautious fencing. Then she would understand better. But clearly, it would take time.
* * *
* * *
After luncheon, Alice headed out to make some morning calls, leaving Lucy to entertain herself and unpack. Once Lucy was properly dressed, she would accompany Alice on the calls, but not yet.
If she had to bring this wretched girl out, she needed to reconnect with the social scene. She’d been out of circulation for the last eighteen months, first because of her year of mourning, and later because she didn’t really feel like facing all those curious looks. And ugly suggestions. The rumors about Thaddeus’s manner and place of death were still circulating.
Now they served as a reminder of how much worse it would be if those letters ever got out. The knowledge stiffened her backbone.
She called on her sister-in-law, Almeria, first. Almeria was far from her favorite person, but now that she’d become the Countess of Charlton, it was incumbent on Alice to pay her respects before she started making other calls. To do otherwise was to court insult, and Almeria was very prone to seeing insult where none was intended.
It was strange, arriving at her former home as a guest. She’d never liked the house: the furnishings and decoration were heavy and too ornate for her taste, and she’d always found it cold. It had always felt like Thaddeus’s home, not hers, even though she’d lived there for eighteen years and spent much more time there than he did.
Almeria, dressed in her signature puce, with silver piping, was receiving, and several other ladies were also making calls. The butler, Dawes, who had been Alice’s butler until eighteen months ago, announced her arrival. “The Dowager Countess of Charlton.”
After the introductions—the other guests were two society matrons and their young daughters, just out this season—Almeria turned to Alice with an opening salvo. “You’re looking sadly pinched and drawn, Alice dear. Dying of boredom, I expect. You really should get out more. You widows mustn’t let yourselves get any drearier, you know.”
Alice inclined her head politely and said nothing. The other guests exchanged glances.
Almeria continued, “I, on the other hand, have been a positive whirlwind of activity, bringing this house up to scratch.” She laid a hand across her chest, indicating utter exhaustion. “How on earth did you bear it, my dear? Everything so outdated and shabby.” She smiled sweetly and turned to the other ladies. “Of course, coming from an obscure country vicarage, dear Alice would have no notion of how an earl’s town house ought to appear. But I have it in hand now.”
Alice said nothing. Thaddeus had refused to let her change a thing, but she had no intention of justifying herself to Almeria. The house hadn’t been to her taste, but it had never been shabby or outdated.
As a new bride, she’d been taken aback by Almeria’s constant saccharine-coated hostility, but eventually someone had informed her that Almeria had set her cap at Thaddeus and was thought to be first in the running to be his bride, but as the years had passed and no proposal was forthcoming, she’d given in and married Thaddeus’s younger brother instead.
And then, ten years later, Thaddeus swept back from a rural visit, betrothed to a young lady nobody had ever heard of—neither a great beauty nor a great heiress, though her bloodline was distinguished. A simple vicar’s daughter.
Almeria had never forgiven Alice for succeeding where she’d failed, and now that Almeria was the countess and Alice the dowager—and she’d produced a son, while Alice had proved to be barren—Almeria couldn’t pass up any opportunity to crow over their change in status.
If only Almeria had married Thaddeus. What might Alice’s life have been then?
“So what have you been doing with yourself, Alice dear?”
It was said in such a world-weary, patronizing voice that Alice found herself saying, “I have a guest staying with me. A young lady.”
“A guest? You mean a lodger, I suppose? Dear me, how the mighty have fallen,” Almeria said with a titter and a meaningful glance at her other guests.
“No, not a lodger,” Alice said, with an edge to her voice. “I am preparing to sponsor the young lady’s come-out.”
Almeria’s eyes narrowed. “Young lady? Which young lady?”
Alice instantly regretted mentioning it. “My goddaughter, Miss Lucy Bamber.”
“A goddaughter?” The finely plucked brows twitched. “I know both your goddaughters. Why have I never heard of this one before now?”
“I have no idea who you might or might not have heard of, Almeria.” She was pleased to hear she sounded quite cool. “I have known Lucy Bamber since before she was baptized.” Which wasn’t a lie, not really.
“Bamber?” Almeria pursed her lips. “I don’t know any Bambers. Who are her people? Where does she come from?”
Alice went blank. Oh heavens. What to say? She should have thought this thing through before making her announcement. Her own fault for letting Almeria goad her into speaking unprepared.
“Aunt Alice?” came a voice from the doorway. Almeria’s son, Gerald, Lord Thornton, entered the room.
“Gerald, my dear boy, safe home at last!” Almeria turned to her guests and explained, “My son was in a curricle race, all the way to Brighton. So dashing! And so dangerous. Tell me, dearest boy, did you break the Prince Regent’s record?”
“No, Mother, I did not.” He turned to Alice and bowed over her hand. “Aunt Alice, how lovely to see you. You’re looking very well, I must say.”
Alice greeted him, thankful for the distraction. Gerald had always been a favorite of hers. Almeria’s guests were sitting up, the older ladies beaming, and the two young ones blushing and smoothing their skirts. Alice suddenly realized why Almeria was entertaining two very young ladies and their mothers.
“Your aunt claims she is sponsoring a young lady for the season,” Almeria said as Gerald sat down.
“That sounds exciting, Aunt Alice.”