Page 5 of A Lesson in Propriety (Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies #1)

Five

“Of any excuse I thought Mother would use to refuse to live here,” Annaliese began, drawing Drusilla’s attention, “using Aunt Ottilie’s ghost wasn’t anything I ever considered.”

Drusilla felt the most curious urge to laugh. “I wouldn’t have thought of that one either, but luckily for us, it’s a flimsy excuse.”

“I don’t know how flimsy it is considering Aunt Ottilie and Mother truly never got along. Frankly, I wouldn’t put it past Aunt Ottilie to single Mother out as the best person to haunt.”

“Except that I highly doubt Aunt Ottilie is dead as we never received any notice regarding her passing from her solicitor, Mr. William Baumgartner.”

Gus opened his mouth, probably to argue once again about Aunt Ottilie being dead, but before he could voice a single argument, the sound of carriage wheels rolling up the long drive interrupted him. A second later, two additional hired hacks, along with three wagons, came into view.

“I was beginning to worry the rest of our party took a wrong turn,” Drusilla said as the hacks and wagons drew closer.

“They’re just lagging behind because Thomas”—Gus nodded to the driver who was now bringing his hack to a stop a few feet away from them—“doesn’t like to push his horses past a plod.”

Annaliese was beaming a smile in Thomas’s direction a second later, leaving poor Thomas looking somewhat dazed. “How delightful to learn there are hack drivers who concern themselves with the well-being of their horses.”

Gus released a snort. “Thomas isn’t concerned about the welfare of his animals. Our fares are based on how long it takes to get to a destination. If Thomas’s horses are kept to a plod, he brings in a higher fare.”

Annaliese’s smile dimmed. “But my sister negotiated the same fare for all the hacks and wagons she hired today, so why would Thomas have kept his horses to a plod if there isn’t a possibility for him to make more money?”

“Force of habit, I suppose, or...” Gus’s voice trailed away as the door to the hack Thomas was driving began to open and then a foot clad in a high-buttoned shoe appeared, followed by the appearance of Miss Seraphina Livingston, who immediately pushed back the hood of her cloak as she took to perusing the castle with a frown on what could only be described as an exquisitely beautiful face.

Gus’s jaw, along with Thomas’s, instantaneously went slack at the mere sight of Seraphina, who didn’t notice the gawking as her gaze was now settled on the ravens that had abandoned their tree and were once again circling the turrets.

In all honesty, it was a somewhat odd state of affairs that Seraphina had traveled with them to Chicago, considering that Drusilla hadn’t set eyes on her old friend, nor heard a single word from her, since they’d both been twelve years old and enrolled in the Sherwood Academy together.

Seraphina had always been more outgoing than Drusilla, and could count dozens of girls at the academy as friends. But even though she’d been one of the most sought-after students there, she’d always made a point to include Drusilla in a variety of activities—until Seraphina’s father had remarried and she’d been yanked out of the academy and sent off to a finishing school in Switzerland, never to be seen again until she’d arrived on Drusilla’s doorstop a mere week ago. It had become clear almost immediately that Seraphina was experiencing a bit of a challenging situation.

What that situation was, exactly, Drusilla had yet to discover, as Seraphina seemed reluctant to discuss it. However, since it was very unusual for any lady to reside in a boarding school past the age of eighteen, and Seraphina had been attending her school in Switzerland four years past that, it was obvious that her old friend had experienced some manner of discontent with her family, which presumably started after Seraphina’s father had married the widow Drayton, mother of Julia and Katherine, the two young ladies Elbert had been flirting with at Rutherford’s tearoom the day he’d ended their engagement.

That discontent had evidently reached a tipping point after Seraphina had finally been summoned home, one that had then caused Seraphina to show up at the almost completely emptied-out Merriweather house on Washington Square, past midnight no less, dragging a portmanteau behind her and clutching a silk bag in her hand.

After apologizing for arriving at what was certainly an inappropriate hour, she’d proclaimed herself delighted that Drusilla still remembered her, then asked, because she’d overheard her stepsisters talking about how Drusilla was liquidating most of the Merriweather possessions, if Drusilla could recommend a jeweler who would be willing to relieve her of a few pieces of her late mother’s jewelry.

Given the way Seraphina’s gaze kept darting to the door as if she might need to bolt at any second, it had been obvious that something was gravely amiss. After asking Seraphina as delicately as possible if her father was aware she wanted to sell her late mother’s jewelry, Seraphina admitted that her father had died over a year before. She’d then admitted she needed to lay low for a while, or more specifically, lay low for two years until she came into some money.

Recognizing a fellow lady in distress, and one who apparently had no one else to turn to, Drusilla had invited Seraphina to travel with them to Chicago.

It had been quite telling when Seraphina hadn’t hesitated to accept that invitation, looking remarkably relieved as she made a point to promise to pay her own way just as soon as she could liquidate her jewelry.

“I feel the oddest sense of déjà vu because, if I didn’t know better, I’d say I’ve just found myself back at the Swiss finishing school I attended for over ten years,” Seraphina said as her gaze shifted from the ravens and swept over the castle.

“You truly were in finishing school for over ten years?” Annaliese asked.

Seraphina inclined her head. “Until I was summoned home after my father died. Quite frankly, if he hadn’t passed away, I’d probably still be in Switzerland, diligently working my way through every social decorum instruction manual known to womankind. I’m sure I would have also been adding new languages to the five I already speak, and perhaps delving into a touch of Impressionism, an art form I’ve admired for a few years, but one I’ve yet to personally explore as my art instructor at the academy felt that Impressionism wasn’t all that impressive.”

“Ten years is a very long time to devote yourself to matters of propriety,” Annaliese said.

“Quite.” Seraphina grinned. “But before you take to feeling too sorry for me, know that I was also given the opportunity to dabble in some rather unusual pursuits that aren’t common for ladies, taught to me by the likes of groundskeepers and retired military men who accepted guard positions at the school after they retired.” Her eyes took to twinkling. “My favorite dance instructor, who turned out to be a master in fencing, even taught me fencing skills during school holidays since I never bothered traveling all the way from Switzerland to New York to enjoy Christmas or summer breaks.”

Annaliese took a second to give a tug on the bodice of her gown, which had taken to moving, suggesting Pippin was trying to find a comfortable spot for a nap. “You didn’t happen to ever stand in for any of your decorum instructors when they took unexpectedly ill, did you, or perhaps when they wanted to travel for the holidays early and knew you wouldn’t be returning to New York?”

“Since I was enrolled in that school for far longer than any other student—so long, in fact, that I was actually older than some of the instructors—I often stepped in and lent a hand whenever there was a need.”

Annaliese arched a brow Drusilla’s way. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That you’re dying to learn what those other skills are that Annaliese procured during all the years she attended finishing school?”

Annaliese rolled her eyes. “Well, of course I’m curious about that, but I was actually thinking that your academy idea isn’t such a bad one after all because it sounds as if Seraphina might very well surpass you in the whole being proficient with proper decorum business. She also has experience instructing students, something you and I lack.”

“Academy?” Seraphina asked.

Before Drusilla could explain, Gus, who’d returned to unpacking their trunks, dropped another portmanteau to the ground, and none too gently at that, before he sent a nod Drusilla’s way. “I only have a few trunks left, and it looks like the other drivers are almost done unpacking as well. That’s why I’m going to suggest all of you gather any personal belongings you left in your respective hacks.” He cast a glance at the sky. “If you haven’t noticed, the sun will be going down before too long, and I, for one, don’t intend on being around when the ghosts come out, even if I’m usually not opposed to charging an extra fee for lingering about.”

Seraphina’s lips twitched. “The castle has ghosts?”

“Allegedly,” Drusilla returned. “But before Gus takes to telling us more ghost stories, which are hardly going to allow us to sleep well tonight, allow me to get Mother out of the hack so Gus can get on his way.”

With that, and after asking Annaliese and Seraphina to see after the Merriweather staff members who’d gotten out of their respective hacks and were now standing in the middle of the drive, all of them gazing at the bats whizzing around the belfry, Drusilla squared her shoulders and marched over to the hack where her mother had taken to hiding out.

It was not an unexpected sight when she opened the door and found Irma sniffling into a handkerchief, something she’d been doing frequently ever since Sanford had made off with the Merriweather millions.

Tellingly enough, her mother had barely shed a tear for her husband after Morton Merriweather had died, probably because she’d never claimed to have been overly fond of her husband. Their marriage had been an arranged one, and Irma had barely tolerated Morton, just as he’d gone to extraordinary lengths to avoid her whenever possible.

Granted, Irma had certainly never wished him dead and had unquestionably been taken by surprise when Morton had suffered from what his doctor had deemed an unexpected failure of the heart while engaged in a business discussion with Sanford in his office. However, she’d seemed more distressed over being expected, per the rules of proper decorum, to mourn her husband for a full two years, her mourning period responsible for her having to forgo the many frivolities she’d always thrived on.

That right there was why Drusilla had not married Elbert the minute her one year of mourning was over, what with how her mother had retreated to her bed at the mere thought of missing her eldest daughter’s wedding or, worse yet, not being able to host a wedding the Four Hundred would have deemed the wedding of the Season. Irma had only abandoned her bed after Drusilla assured her they’d postpone the nuptials—a delay that had allowed Sanford more than enough time to plan and execute the liquidation of the Merriweather fortune.

“You really are going to have to get out of the hack, Mother,” Drusilla finally said, which earned her another sniffle before Irma narrowed red-rimmed eyes on her.

“I’m not getting out. This is a horrid place Ottilie gave you and Annaliese, and I won’t step foot into a home that has bats circling around it or ghosts wandering the hallways, especially if one of those ghosts is Ottilie.” Irma gathered her cloak tightly against her. “There are probably rats roaming around inside as well, along with a variety of other less-than-pleasant creatures.”

“I once read that some bats are carnivorous, so perhaps these bats are of that variety and have taken care of any rats that may have tried to live in the castle.”

Irma’s mouth dropped open. “If those bats are carnivorous, what would stop them from trying to eat us, especially if they’ve found a way to access the interior of the castle?”

“That was probably not a well thought out answer on my part.”

“Well thought out or not, you said it, which means I’m definitely not getting out of this hack now.”

“What if I told you, now that I think about it, that I’m almost positive those carnivorous bats only live in tropical areas? Clearly Chicago is not a tropical paradise.”

Irma pursed her lips. “I suppose that’s somewhat reassuring, but if the bats aren’t eating the rats, then there’s undoubtedly an infestation of them in the castle. I imagine they’ll be coming out in hordes at night with the sole intention of nibbling on our toes.”

“Except that Annaliese’s ferrets will take care of any bats or rats, which is what I should have said in the first place.”

Irma frowned. “Annaliese has more than one ferret?”

“She has three—Pippin, Wiggles, and Fidget—but you probably thought there was only one because the ferrets look remarkably similar.”

“Do all three of them ride around on her shoulder, taking it in turns?”

“Only Pippin does that. Wiggles and Fidget are more on the standoffish side.”

Irma’s gaze sharpened on Drusilla. “She doesn’t have any other unusual animals that I don’t know about, does she?”

“She used to have a colony of beavers, but since we had no idea what our housing situation was going to be like here, she decided not to bring them.” Drusilla smiled. “They’re currently living in the backyard of one of Annaliese’s fellow animal activists, but I imagine Annaliese will send for them at some point.”

“She’ll never find herself a husband if she continues with her peculiar ways.”

“Unless she happens upon a gentleman who loves animals as much as she does. But Annaliese’s future husband prospects aside”—Drusilla caught her mother’s eye—“the driver would like to get on his way, which means you’re going to have to exit this hack, and before you argue with that, you need to remember that you have nowhere else to go.”

Irma crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not true. We can always repair to the Palmer House. I’ve heard that it’s quite delightful there.”

“The Palmer House is a luxury hotel that we can no longer afford.”

“Of course we can afford it because I know, given all the bellowing Elbert was doing regarding you holding the Herrington gems for ransom, that you managed to extract far more money from him than he wanted to give you.”

“I wasn’t holding the diamonds for ransom. I was simply making what I considered a sound business deal.”

“It must have been some deal, given all that bellowing, although I do feel compelled to state yet again that it’s very unbecoming for a lady to immerse herself in any type of business in the first place.”

“Then you should start preparing yourself for additional unbecoming behavior from me since I’ve done a lot of contemplating about my life over the past few months, and I’ve decided that I will never again allow myself to depend on a man to take care of me, which means...”

“You’ve decided to remain a spinster?” Irma gasped before Drusilla could finish her thought.

“Indeed.”

Irma raised a hand to her throat. “But marriage is the only way we members of the feminine set can enjoy financial stability.”

“That way of thinking doesn’t seem to have worked out well for either of us, Mother, which is why I say it’s past time we Merriweather women figure out how to secure some financial stability on our own.”

Two red splotches of color took up residence on Irma’s pale cheeks. “Do not let anyone else hear you speak of such a thing, because with radical ideas like that, we’ll never see ourselves returned to the fold of the New York Four Hundred.”

“The Four Hundred turned their backs on us the moment they learned we were penniless. And not that I want to make you weep again, but you should probably prepare yourself for the fact that the upper echelons of New York society will undoubtedly continue giving us the cut direct if I follow through with an idea I was just discussing with Annaliese and Seraphina.”

“Do not tell me this idea is a business idea, is it?”

“Securing financial stability for us is going to have to involve business, but it’s not as if I’m about to suggest we open an ale house and start slugging mugs of ale around.”

“I should hope not.”

“Well, quite. But know that what I’m considering isn’t improper in the least since the business I believe we could successfully run merely involves turning the castle into a finishing school, and one we could name something clever, such as the Merriweather Academy for Young Ladies.”

Sheer horror immediately flickered through Irma’s eyes right before she buried her face in her handkerchief and began weeping in earnest.