Alice suppressed the desire to screw up her face and answer him back. Did he not trust her to behave out on her own? She grasped her fork tightly and stabbed at a piece of beef, spearing it onto the prongs. Her argument would be lost immediately. She had behaved badly on her own and his precautionary measure was founded on good reason. She clearly had much work to do in convincing him otherwise.
Unfortunately, Edmund’s refusal to countenance her visiting Buxton, and her lack of worthy occupation, caused Alice to drift back to her old practices of thoughtlessness.
After luncheon, she searched the bureau in the library and found patterns for samplers and a tapestry. She requested threads and canvas for stitching and Primrose provided them from the stores in the basement. Settling into a window seat, she began to fashion a red rose.
She could hear dogs barking raucously outside and knew that Edmund had return from shooting rabbits with the gamekeeper. A few minutes later, he appeared in the drawing room, face gleaming with the sultry heat of the day. Bending over to kiss her cheek, he spied her handiwork.
“Pretty,” he commented. “Where did you find the pattern, it looks familiar.”
“In a drawer,” she confided. She bit her lip. “I haven’t been amiss?”
“They were my mother’s,” said Edmund easing into an armchair.
Alice had heard little about his mother, other than she had died many years ago. “Please, would you tell me about her?” she asked sweetly.
“Her painting is there on the wall.” Edmund pointed to a full-length oil painting of an elegant if slightly delicate woman standing in a rural setting.
Alice gazed up at the portrait. “She is most beautiful,” she said truthfully.
Edmund studied his feet rather than the portrait. “She and my father were childhood sweethearts. However, she didn’t take to being an army wife, detested following the wagon train and preferred to abide here while my father toured abroad. She had my sister, who died in infancy, and myself, and then my father died in the Caribbean. Her heart broke and in her weakened state, she succumbed to consumption.”
“I am sorry, Edmund.” Alice put down her needlework. “To lose both of your parents at a young age is tragic.”
Edmund waved a dismissive hand at her emotional response. “Your father took me under his wing. Ensured I went to school and then to officer training. He said he could see my father in me.”
“How did your father and mine become friends?”
“Your grandfather, Henry’s father, married the sister of one of the housekeeper’s here. Henry would come to visit his aunt and met my father. Although of different classes, Henry had been well educated and he took an interest in the engineering books in our library here. My father stuck to the military ones. Nobody minded seeing two boys immersed in books. I think though, they made some mischief about the house.”
“My father!” gawped Alice. She supposed it explain her more rebellious nature. “So, you’re not cross that I took your mother’s patterns?”
“No, she would have liked you to use them.” He paused and his eyebrows furrowed. “However, do not think you may go rummaging in all the rooms. The room at the far end of the East corridor is forbidden to you.”
Alice desperately wanted to ask why, but bit down on her tongue and stowed her inquisitive nature. Edmund had revealed something of his past and she was satisfied. His eyelids drooped and she quietly went about her embroidering while he dozed.
* * *
The next time Edmund went into Buxton on business two days later, Alice was especially restless. She had been told there was to be a dance at the assembly rooms in Buxton and they were invited. It could not come soon enough, and perhaps given the dragging of time, she didn’t pay much heed to Edmund’s warning about the forbidden room.
She entered it on impulse, curiosity driving her to seek some form of entertainment. The unlocked door revealed a room whose walls were covered in pictures. Some paintings, others sketches. They all had the same theme—war. Different depictions of battle scenes, parading soldiers and officers in their dress uniforms. A cabinet contained various memorabilia: medals, shakos, ornate scabbards and sabres.
Opening the door of a great wooden wardrobe, she found uniforms hanging in the closet. Different styles—some cavalry others infantry, all in excellent condition. Alice could not resist their allure. Choosing a black cavalry style, she slipped it over her shoulders and tried it on. Her hands disappeared in the sleeves and the length dropped to her thighs. She gave a twirl in the middle of the room and then peered at her reflection in the closet mirror, giggling at her ridiculous costume and its vast proportions.
The door slammed behind her. Alice jumped in her skin. She didn’t need to turn to see who had entered, the reflection in the mirror showed Edmund looming behind her, his grey eyes intense with anger.
With trepidation, she turned about slowly, heart racing uncontrollably.
“I told you this room is forbidden!” he snapped.
“I… thought they were yours, I… forgot.” She doubted her floundering words would convince him.
He pointed a finger at her garb. “The uniform you wear belonged to my father. This room contains everything I know about my father.” His eyes tracked about the room and his expression changed. No longer did she see red-faced anger. He seemed lost in thought and remembrances.
She quickly removed the coat and hung it up in the wardrobe, closing the door. She felt terrible. The room contained the personal memories of a much-admired father—a treasure trove of keepsakes maintained by Edmund even in his absence. She lowered her eyes to the floor, unable to match Edmund’s stern stare. She shuffled her feet nervously, waiting for him to speak.
He frowned. “I’m disappointed. I’m sorry to say this countermanding of my stipulation will result in you being spanked. Curiosity is one thing, but you flagrantly…” He shook his head slightly, as if in disbelief. “You should not have touched his uniform.”
She opened and shut her mouth in disbelief. The sense of sorrow at her actions vanished and instead, she pouted at his mention of spanking. Somehow, she had to convince him not to do it. She straightened her shoulders and tried to come with a suitable cause for mitigation. “Please, don’t spank me. It’s not fair. I didn’t know who the uniform belonged to, did I? I assumed it was yours.”