She flicked a defiant gaze up at him. “Does family mean Mrs. Towler too?”
He swallowed, unprepared for the challenge hidden in her arrow-like question.
As he considered his response, her words lashed out. “If it is family you prize so much, why do you allow Mrs. Towler to be so cruel to me? In fact, why do you allow her to remain here at all?”
“That’s not fair, Rachel.”
“How can you say that?” Her spoon clattered to the table. “Of course it’s fair. She scowls at me all the time, and you do not intervene. Nothing I do is ever good enough for her. Poor Elizabeth! Could you imagine growing up with such a mother?”
He shouldn’t have been taken aback by Rachel’s outburst.
Yet he was.
Yes, Elizabeth was graceful. Elegant. She was indeed a result of her mother’s meticulous efforts. But he doubted it was vanity alone that urged her to raise her daughter in such a manner.
James softened his tone. “Elizabeth loved her mother. She’d want us to make the best of things. Mrs. Towler is alone. Think of how awful that would be. If it weren’t for Briarton Park, where would she go?”
Rachel scoffed. “She is very high and mighty for someone who has nowhere to go.”
“She’s family.”
“She’s not my family.”
“She’s our family,” he said, louder. “We don’t turn our back on family. Ever. If anything, I believe she is harsh because she’s scared.”
“Scared?” Rachel huffed a sarcastic laugh. “People are scared of her. Not the other way around.”
“She is scared, Rachel. Scared of being alone and without. She knows and understands the genteel world. For her, money is security. And where you’re concerned, she believes that pristine manners and behavior will position you to catch a wealthy husband, and then you’ll be set for life.”
“You don’t agree with that, do you?”
When he didn’t respond, she slumped her shoulders.
He gave her several moments to think on things before he said, “Regarding last night—”
Rachel’s groan and eye roll interrupted him.
“As I was saying about last night, we’ll say no more on the subject.”
She wrinkled her face. “What, no punishment?”
“Oh yes. You’ll be staying on the grounds and will not leave for any reason without permission. I’ll personally collect any letters you receive and deliver them to you, and any letters you send out will go through me as well. Additionally, you owe a few people, including Mrs. Towler and even Mrs. Helock, an apology. And you must find a time to thank Miss Hale. As I recall, you scurried off from her with a huff and a pout.”
Rachel lowered her face and nodded.
“And about Mr. Standish . . .”
At the name Rachel stiffened. Her silver eyes flashed upward.
James continued. “I think it goes without saying, I am not to hear another word—or see any evidence of him—at all. If I do, then—”
“You need not concern yourself on that account,” she added in haste. “I saw last night what a brute he is. I never want to see him again.”
Something in his heart ached for all the heartbreak his sister had endured. He wanted to protect her. He could never forgive himself if something untoward should happen. And this near calamity had been too close.
He also thought of Miss Hale’s words that his sister had been brave, in her own way.
After several seconds she looked down at her sleeve and fussed with the hem of it. “And for what it is worth, I am sorry. I should have listened to you.”
Her contrition took him a bit by surprise. She was not one to apologize—not willingly, anyway.
“Let’s put it behind us then.”
“If any good has come of this, I do believe that Miss Hale will be a friend for me.” Her lip quirked into almost a smile. “If I am allowed to see her, of course.”
He thought of Miss Hale, with her sharp wit, her definite opinions, and the dagger in her boot. He did not know her well, but at first blush she was exactly the sort of woman he wanted to influence his sister. “One thing at a time, young lady. All in good time.”
Chapter 12
Cassandra was not sure what she expected the former housekeeper of Briarton Park to look like, but this woman was certainly not it.
The severe image of Briarton Park’s current housekeeper, Mrs. Helock, glowed fresh in her mind—a neat, tidy woman with graying dark hair.
Mrs. Susannah Hutton could not be more different. Her hair was faded, frizzed with wiry curls, capped with a frilly mobcap, and closer to white than blonde. Lines etched her plump, florid face, and her pale eyes were narrowed in suspicion—and annoyance—at having to receive unexpected guests.
Confidence and charm flowed from Mr. North’s words in spite of the chilly reception. “Mrs. Hutton. It’s always a pleasure to see you. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”
“I didn’t really agree to anything, did I?” Mrs. Hutton snapped as she wiped her hands on her linen apron, the statement more a declaration than a question. “I received your message that you were to call, and, well, here we all are.”
Mrs. Pearson thrust a basket of bread and apples into Mrs. Hutton’s arms. “Come now, since when is there a reason for formality when meetin’ among friends? Your name was spoken in conversation yesterday, and I thought a visit and a chat was long overdue. Is your sister at home?” Mrs. Pearson turned after moving next to the fire and adjusted her reticule in her gloved hands.
Mrs. Hutton handed the basket to a young maid in the corridor. “No, she is not. She’s gone to visit our cousin over in Northumberland.”
“Oh, I had no idea,” Mr. North exclaimed, his ever-present smile unaffected. “I’m sorry we’ve missed her.”
“Did you not notice she’s been absent from church these past four weeks?” Mrs. Hutton raised one gray eyebrow dubiously before turning her attention to Cassandra. “And who have we here?”
Before Cassandra could respond, Mrs. Pearson came and took her arm, then drew her farther into the sitting room. “I have the privilege of introducing Miss Cassandra Hale. She’s come to Anston seeking information ’bout her family.”
Cassandra curtsied to mask the butterflies within her.
But instead of returning the greeting, Mrs. Hutton grimaced. “You look awfully young to be traveling alone.”
Mrs. Pearson forged ahead. “Miss Hale had reason to call on Briarton Park askin’ after Mr. Robert Clark. ’Course he’s dead now, and she had questions I could not answer. But then I recalled your long-standing tie to the family. I thought there could be no harm in bringin’ her for a visit. I’m sure you two would have a great deal to talk about.”
An odd quirk tweaked Mrs. Hutton’s lower lip. “I don’t know what I could tell you. I have not stepped foot in that place in nigh onto seven years.”
“Be that as it may, it might be a pleasant way to pass some time. Come now. Surely a few questions won’t hurt anythin’.”
Mrs. Hutton, almost as a sign of defeat, motioned to the sofa and chair next to the fire grate. “Well then, since you’re here, you might as well be seated.”