Page 11 of A Lesson in Propriety (Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies #1)
Eleven
Trudging up the steps leading to his home on North Rush Street, an address that wasn’t as fashionable as Prairie Avenue but still sported some impressive mansions all the same, Rhenick opened a door that was painted an unusual shade of red—vermillion, to be exact—chosen by his sister Eloise, who’d decided the previous year that vermillion was her favorite color and had asked if they could paint the front door that color in honor of her fifteenth birthday.
Birthdays in the Whittenbecker household were considered very important events indeed, which was why their door now stood out from all the other doors in the neighborhood, not that Rhenick was sure the neighbors appreciated that. However, given that Eloise seemed to be gravitating toward yellow these days, he had a feeling the neighbors wouldn’t have to suffer the sight of a vermillion door for much longer.
After walking into the entranceway, Rhenick moved aside a few hats, ribbons, and even a pair of roller skates that were dangling by their laces from the hooks that were attached to the wall, finally making a space large enough to where he could hang up his hat.
He barely had a moment to glance in the mirror that hung beside the hooks before the sound of someone racing down the steps drew his attention, that distraction allowing him to ignore the fact that the glimpse he’d just gotten of his current expression suggested he was still lingering in what could only be described as a bewildered state.
He wasn’t a man who experienced bewilderment often, if ever, but bewildered he most assuredly was, this unfamiliar state a direct result of the infuriated response he’d received from Drusilla after he’d broached the subject of marriage.
Infuriated wasn’t exactly a response he’d ever thought he’d incur when it came to the subject of marriage.
“Rhenick, there you are,” Coraline, his youngest sister, exclaimed as she skidded to a stop in front of him. “I’ve been waiting for you for ages, and now that you’re finally home, I need you to come with me right this very minute and look over some outfits I’m considering wearing tonight. Then, after I’ve modeled each outfit, I need you to tell me which one shows me to advantage before I head off to Norma Jean McCormick’s house.”
“I take it Grace and Eloise aren’t available?”
Coraline waved that away. “Oh, they’re available, as is Tilda, who brought the twins for a visit, but I don’t need a girl’s opinion, and Edwin doesn’t count as he’s only five and knows nothing about fashion yet. That leaves you as my fashion adviser today.”
A tingle of suspicion began tickling the back of his neck. “Why do you need me to advise you?”
“I require a male perspective.”
He narrowed his eyes. “An unusual request, and one that has me wondering exactly what you’re going to be doing at Norma Jean’s this evening.”
Coraline rolled her eyes. “There’s no need for you to turn all suspicious. As I’ve mentioned often, Norma Jean’s decided to become a playwright someday. She recently finished a new story and invited the girls over for a spur-of-the-moment gathering so we can read through her script later tonight.”
Rhenick didn’t need to ask who the “girls” were, as Coraline had been fast friends with a specific group of eight girls she’d met on the first day of Sunday school years before. Those girls could often be found lounging around the Whittenbecker music room, although thankfully they spent most of their time mooning over various local boys instead of pursuing musical endeavors. None of the girls were what anyone would call proficient with any musical instruments—or singing, for that matter.
“If you’re merely spending the evening with the girls, why do you need my opinion about what you’re going to wear?”
Coraline took to batting innocent lashes his way, but before she could get what he knew was going to be a less-than-completely-truthful response out of her mouth, additional footsteps coming down the stairs interrupted her.
“I imagine Coraline wants your opinion because she knows Norma Jean’s brother, Seth, is currently spending some time at Norma Jean’s house instead of his own after one of his latest inventions went horribly wrong.” Rhenick’s second-youngest sister, Grace, skipped over to his side, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and completely ignored that Coraline was now scowling at her. “From what I’ve heard, Seth blew a large hole out of his roof when something he was working on unexpectedly went airborne.”
“Seth does seem to experience explosions more than your average inventor,” Rhenick said right as a thought began forming in his mind, one that had his sense of suspicion intensifying. He returned his attention to Coraline. “You don’t happen to want my opinion because you’re hoping to make a favorable impression on Seth this evening, do you?”
“What young lady wouldn’t want to impress a man who’s already earning the reputation of being an inventor for the ages, as well as being delightfully mysterious?” Coraline countered.
“ Mysterious is not a word I’ve ever heard used to describe Seth McCormick since he’s got the air of an absentminded professor about him. However, non-mysterious ways aside, Seth and I went to school together and he’s exactly my age—twenty-eight. You’re barely thirteen, which means Seth is far too old for you.”
“Everyone knows that ladies mature far faster than gentlemen do,” Coraline argued.
“Not that fast.”
As Coraline immediately took to muttering about that, Rhenick turned to Grace, who was in the process of regarding him with a rather odd look on her face. “What?” he asked.
“Your hair is unusually untidy, which suggests something unexpected happened to you today.”
Not certain he was up for an interrogation just yet, considering he was still in a rather bewildered state regarding what had transpired with Drusilla, Rhenick summoned up a smile. “I’m sure my hair is looking untidy. If you’ve neglected to notice, Chester, our less-than-efficient butler, is once again not manning his post. That not-unusual circumstance meant I had to hang up my own hat, and then any grooming I may have wanted to do, such as combing my hair after wearing a hat all day, came to a rapid end when Coraline intercepted me.”
Grace returned his smile. “Mother sent Chester off to visit the doctor because he had a reaction to the silver polish he was using this morning.”
Rhenick’s smile dimmed. “Chester can barely manage to handle opening and closing the front door, let alone taking anyone’s coat or hat. Why in the world would Mother have thought he’d be up for polishing the silver?”
“I think she believed that since Chester used to work in a steel mill until he came to work here not that long ago, he’d appreciate working with a form of ore again, especially when Mother recently read that proper butlers are always responsible for attending to the silver.” Grace winced. “Unfortunately, as I said, Chester had a reaction to the polish, so I don’t think polishing silver is going to be added to his list of butler duties once he gets that rash under control.”
“I’m not sure I needed the imagine of Chester covered in a rash now imprinted on my mind,” Rhenick admitted. “Nevertheless, his absence exactly explains why I’m currently looking untidy, as Chester wasn’t available to point out the derelict state of my hair or, better yet, provide me with a comb the moment after I stepped foot into the house, something a competent butler would have done.”
“I don’t think there’s any question about Chester’s competency with his butler role, but Chester aside...” Grace considered him again. “While your explanation regarding your disheveled state is rather reasonable, for some reason, and one I can’t quite put my finger on, I don’t think our absentee butler is why you’re looking out-of-sorts.”
Hoping to avoid a full-out interrogation since he’d yet to fully comprehend how he’d made such a disaster with Drusilla Merriweather in the first place, Rhenick gave Grace’s arm a squeeze. “Couldn’t we simply leave it that I had a somewhat harrowing day, one I don’t particularly care to discuss?”
Grace immediately took to exchanging a telling look with Coraline before she arched a brow his way. “I don’t believe you’ve ever used the word harrowing before, which suggests something dastardly did happen to you, which means...”
Grace was striding to the foot of the stairs a mere heartbeat later, where she promptly stopped and opened her mouth.
A dulcet feminine tone was not what came out of that mouth, but an honest-to-goodness bellow, her bellowing resulting in the sound of numerous pairs of feet pounding down the stairs a blink of an eye later.