The House Guest (Unedited)

Chapter 7: Family Dispute

The day passes rather uneventfully.

Following my unexpected meeting with Mr. Aldridge, I abandon my previous plans and frantically search through the library for children's literature, for Kitty's sake. Close to dinner time, I slip into a pink taffeta gown, one of Susanna's old ones which she has grown tired of, though Mrs. Potter was forced to tailor it to fit my lankier build and height. I adjust my Mother's favourite pearl necklace around my neck, and pinch my cheeks so that I might encourage a splash of colour on them.

I examine myself in the mirror. Though I'm not as pretty as Susanna - regardless of what Lady Caroline believes - I have a dainty nose, rounded lips, and wide, bright eyes. My complexion no longer bares the unfortunate blemishes which mark adolescence, and I am much taller and more slender than when I was a child. The selfish thought threatens my finally calm feelings. Does Henry still think that I'm beautiful? Exasperated, I heave a sigh and collect all the strength which remains within me to head downstairs.

The shrill voices of women and the low howling of men mingle, and intertwine to become a booming symphony of noise. The scent of spiced wine lingers in the air encompassing me, wrapped in the pleasant warmth of firewood and lit candles.

The room is brimming with posh ladies and decadent gentlemen; decked out in the latest fashions. I observe Susanna frantically yank at her head feather, noticing that she is the only woman brave enough to sport the ambitious trend. Beside her is William Caldwell, her fiancé, who wears an expression of sheer boredom as she gossips intently with Lady Caroline and Lady Dorothea. Lord Caldwell is perched at the head of the table, eagerly pouring himself more than his fair share of brandy.

"Helene!" Kitty shouts between giggles, ushering me over by a wave of her hand, to which she earns a warning look from her mother.

"Good evening, Helene Lovell," James Aldridge greets me, as I slip into a seat between him and Kitty. Surprised that he would use my first name in such a formal setting, I eye him with a cautious and restrained smile.

If he thinks that I will court him, he is entirely mistaken. I try to keep my gaze away from his direction, instead looking down at the table.

"Oh, look! There's Henry!" I follow Kitty's stubby, pointing finger to a disheveled Henry, his breeches stained with grass and mud and his blue cravat unbuttoned. He clears his throat, commanding the attention of everyone within the dining hall. 

"Good evening Mother. Father," Henry stammers, his eyes vivid with expression. He remains standing at the foot of the table.

"For goodness sakes Henry! Sit down before you make a fool of yourself." Lady Caroline barks angrily.

I lower my gaze to my hands, and unfold my napkin on my lap.

"Why on earth did you think travelling here to your William's engagement party was a good idea?" Lady Caroline demands sharply, addressing Henry, who seems to squirm with unease.

"He's my older brother. I received the letter, and I came as quickly as I could," Henry replies his tone cold and calculated, "what nonsense, am I not welcome in my own home anymore?"

Silence grips the table, until it subsides to shocked mumbles and scandalized whispers.

"Not when I read your name in every newspaper, bringing shame to your family. Each gossip column seems to have become enthralled with you of late - courting less-than reputable ladies, squandering your wealth," Lady Caroline's voice descends into a harsh, distraught whisper, and her husband places his hand on her arm to calm her. "You haven't done anything good for yourself, Henry. Sometimes.. I wish that William was my only son."

I glimpse Kitty's expression, a mixture of utter disbelief and hurt. I reach my hand out to squeeze hers reassuringly, and she meets my gaze with teary, pale eyes.

"Well, a season in Brighton for the honeymoon would be lovely," Lady Dorothea blushes, diverting the conversation away from the disgraced second son.

Dinner continues to progress, rather unsteadily. Henry remains to himself, and every once in a while I feel his gaze settle on me, though I pretend not to notice.

"What are your aspirations for the future?" James Aldridge questions, dipping his spoon into a china bowl of pudding at dessert.

"I suppose become a governess, or continue on in some grand estate as a housekeeper," I say, gingerly peeling an orange, "Although Lady Dorothea has wanted me to be married off immediately ever since the moment I came to stay with her."

I regret the latter part of my response, for I do not want Mr. Aldridge to think that I am alluding to him. I hardly know the man, and my thoughts are far from him.

"Those are your aspirations?" Mr. Aldridge queries, pinching the bridge of his nose, perplexed.

I nod, pursing my lips.

"Forgive me. I don't mean to be forward or critical of your character, for I've only just made your acquaintance. I was only asking because I'm interested in what you want to do with your life, not what you're expected to do." He apologizes, regarding me with direct attention.

"I - I suppose I don't know what I want to accomplish or do," I admit sheepishly, "In my dreams, I have always imagined myself travelling around the world, to Asia and the Americas even. Or - perhaps living in a cottage by the ocean, and writing books for a career."

He doesn't speak but something unfamiliar flashes through Mr. Aldridge's eyes.

~~~