Trying to think about it from their perspective, she understood a little. They assumed she would not be home for a long time. ‘Aleron is not so bad, but I suppose you make sense.’ It was still disappointing though. After all, she had bared her soul in her letters, held nothing back.
Serena’s stomach lurched. She had written everything. Oh, dear God, what had she done? With a sense of panic rising, she searched Papa’s face. ‘Did you tell anyone what I wrote to you?’ She held her breath, waiting for an answer.
‘Well, no. I only read your letters to the girls. Why?’
She breathed out in relief. ‘A nasty report about Mr King found its way into the paper, and we don’t know how.’
‘We?’
‘Mr King’s family and I.’
‘Oh, that was me,’ Julianne announced in a matter-of-fact tone, then popped a piece of meat in her mouth.
Serena stared at her, shock and confusion warring in her mind. ‘What? Why?’
‘Well, it was dreadful here without you at first, and Papa was pining so. When he read that letter to us I worried so much about you. I thought, if everyone knew what a beast Mr King is, he would be locked away, rather than you or Papa. And then you would come home to us.’ She grinned with naïve innocence as she eyed each family member. ‘See how well it worked, and sooner than I’d hoped, too.’
Serena’s body trembled, nausea swirling in her stomach. ‘What did you do?’ She placed her hands beneath her thighs in order to stop their shaking.
‘I went to the newspaper and a lovely chap was very obliging and listened to my story.’
Serena bit on her lip. This did not bode well.
‘He was very friendly. I told him all about you in that great house with that odious Mr King acting so strangely toward you, and how terrifying it must be for you. Of course, little did I know that we would manage quite well without you in the end, so it seems a little unnecessary now. Not for you to be away from that terrible place, I mean, for us needing you. Oh, dear, I am not explaining myself well at all, am I?’
Serena groaned. ‘Do you recall the man’s name, Julianne? The man with whom you discussed me?’
‘Um, yes. I think so. He gave me his card, if I ever needed to talk again.’ She hopped up from the table and almost-skipped to her room, returning moments later with the promised card.
Serena covered her eyes with her hands. She didn’t want to recognise the name she knew was inscribed there in printer’s ink. If only she could cover her ears as well, and never hear what she knew was coming.
‘It was Mr Caleb Moncrief.’
Serena tried to focus on a book, one of those—what did Mr King call them—three volume travesties. She bit back a guilty smile, but seconds later remembered why she was reading. The dewy-eyed actions of her impetuous sister. Serena wanted distraction from her tumbling emotions. Serena had excused herself from the dinner table within moments of hearing the name of Caleb Moncrief. She felt she might explode at Julianne and say something regrettable. As an older sister, she had failed miserably. Serena had not taught them the ways of the world, and now she was paying a hefty price.
She let out a long sigh as she paused at the end of a page—one which she didn’t remember reading anyway—and slammed the book shut.
‘What is bothering you, pet?’ Papa’s voice interrupted her thoughts. Serena hadn’t even noticed him enter the parlour.
How could she tell him that Julianne had caused the trouble at Aleron? That Serena didn’t know whether to be angry with her sister or thankful for the intentions to bring her home? It had only been a few hours, but since Julianne mentioned Caleb Moncrief, Serena fought the urge to run back to Aleron and apologise to the family. After all, it was practically her fault that report had appeared in the paper.
If Serena hadn’t written everything in her letters, Papa would not have read it to her sisters and Julianne would not have gone near the newspaper. And now she may have inadvertently brought the ruin to Edward and his family that they had desperately tried to avoid. Society was unforgiving toward brain-sick folk, vindictive even, treating them and their families as outcasts. Therein, perhaps lay the reason the Jones family had moved to Australia in the first place. But, Serena couldn’t tell her father any of this and she worried her lip, searching for a response.
‘Nothing important, Papa. There are moments I miss Aleron House, that’s all.’ It was true, although not the complete truth.
‘You miss that awful place? But I thought you hated it there.’ Confusion, understandably, marked his brow.
Serena traced the title of the book with her finger, feeling the imprint of the words in the leather binding. ‘At first I did, but although Mr King was a trifle strange, he was rather engaging most of the time.’
‘Engaging, you say?’ Surprise widened Papa’s eyes.
‘Yes, Papa.’ And extremely handsome, talented beyond words and romantic. If she allowed herself, she would gush about Edward for hours. Oh, but she couldn’t tell Papa about the proposal. Serena bit back the wonderful words she wanted to say about him.
Papa fiddled with a loose thread on the sofa, silent for a time. ‘I feel I ought to apologise, my dear girl.’
Serena shook her head. ‘Papa, there is no need. I forgive you for trying to steal from Mr King and all that followed. There is no need to revisit that day.’ If Papa had never entered Aleron House and touched those paintings, she might never have met Edward.
‘That’s not what I’m talking about, lass. You
