low-bred who do not have enough intelligence to rise above common brawling.”
Howard Aston stood and threw his napkin down. He pointed at his wife, who had taken to hiding her gaping mouth behind her napkin.
“You made a promise to me, madam, one I will see you keep. I insist upon it. Those Illuminists are endowed with a cheap sort of intelligence that has its uses and place. They are uncivilized. I am a gentleman, and you shall recall that marrying me lifted you above the station you were born to. I will have respect and order in this house. The Illuminists shall not be spoken of or acknowledged by any member of this family.”
Her father stomped from the room. The serving staff did their best to look as though they were not listening. Janette stared at her mother.
“Mother, what did he mean? What station did he lift you from?”
“Oh dear.” Her mother stood, her chair scraping the hardwood floor because the butler hadn’t anticipated her action. The man ran to catch the back of her chair before it fell over, but her mother sat back down.
“I never thought…”
“Mother, please tell me. Is that why I’ve never met any of your family? Father believes them beneath us? Why?”
Her mother looked at her before drawing in a stiff breath that she held a long moment. When she blew it out, she stood again.
“Janette, you shall have to put this morning completely out of your mind.”
“But—”
Her mother held up a single finger. “Yes, wipe it from your thoughts and never speak of it. Your father is correct. It is best you concentrate on ensuring you recall that having your name linked with an Illuminist will only bring distasteful encounters with your father. We shall have no contact with Illuminists. The matter is not open for discussion.”
Janette found herself standing in the breakfast room with the stunned butler. They locked gazes for a moment before they both looked away out of habit. But Janette wasn’t so confident of her place in the world. Not since meeting Darius Lawley. Two days ago she’d accepted that the Illuminists were people of a lower station than herself. But today she discovered herself questioning the teachings of her father.
And her mother? She was hiding something. Janette walked through the house, feeling very much as she had when trespassing at the Solitary Chamber. As if she did not know where she was or what might happen next.
Maybe she should seek the man out again.
***
“Miss Janette, your father requests you in the parlor.”
The downstairs maid offered a quick curtsy before hurrying back to her duties. Her apron was still pristine and her cap perfectly pressed well into the afternoon.
Appearances.
Her father was demanding when it came to the staff maintaining the standards he expected of them. That maid had several aprons all hung neatly in a closet at the end of the upstairs hallway in case she needed to change. Even being in the middle of her workday didn’t allow for her to look rumpled. Wasn’t an apron worn for the purpose of keeping dirt off one’s dress?
It was something Janette wouldn’t have questioned the need or wisdom for before her encounter with Darius. Appearances were maintained for the betterment of everyone in the family, yet now she wondered if being honest wasn’t more important. This realization vexed her. Why wasn’t she questioning the useless actions and prejudices surrounding her? It was astounding to consider how much effort was wasted on things with so little meaning.
So did that mean Darius Lawley was a more noble man than the gentleman her father claimed to be?
“Ah, there you are, Janette.” Her father gestured her into the parlor. “I’ve a friend to introduce you to. This is Dr. Nerval.”
Janette curtsied without thinking or taking the time to look at the doctor. When she raised her attention to the man sitting in the red leather armchair, a chill traveled across her skin. She’d never seen such cold eyes.
The doctor
Howard Aston stood and threw his napkin down. He pointed at his wife, who had taken to hiding her gaping mouth behind her napkin.
“You made a promise to me, madam, one I will see you keep. I insist upon it. Those Illuminists are endowed with a cheap sort of intelligence that has its uses and place. They are uncivilized. I am a gentleman, and you shall recall that marrying me lifted you above the station you were born to. I will have respect and order in this house. The Illuminists shall not be spoken of or acknowledged by any member of this family.”
Her father stomped from the room. The serving staff did their best to look as though they were not listening. Janette stared at her mother.
“Mother, what did he mean? What station did he lift you from?”
“Oh dear.” Her mother stood, her chair scraping the hardwood floor because the butler hadn’t anticipated her action. The man ran to catch the back of her chair before it fell over, but her mother sat back down.
“I never thought…”
“Mother, please tell me. Is that why I’ve never met any of your family? Father believes them beneath us? Why?”
Her mother looked at her before drawing in a stiff breath that she held a long moment. When she blew it out, she stood again.
“Janette, you shall have to put this morning completely out of your mind.”
“But—”
Her mother held up a single finger. “Yes, wipe it from your thoughts and never speak of it. Your father is correct. It is best you concentrate on ensuring you recall that having your name linked with an Illuminist will only bring distasteful encounters with your father. We shall have no contact with Illuminists. The matter is not open for discussion.”
Janette found herself standing in the breakfast room with the stunned butler. They locked gazes for a moment before they both looked away out of habit. But Janette wasn’t so confident of her place in the world. Not since meeting Darius Lawley. Two days ago she’d accepted that the Illuminists were people of a lower station than herself. But today she discovered herself questioning the teachings of her father.
And her mother? She was hiding something. Janette walked through the house, feeling very much as she had when trespassing at the Solitary Chamber. As if she did not know where she was or what might happen next.
Maybe she should seek the man out again.
***
“Miss Janette, your father requests you in the parlor.”
The downstairs maid offered a quick curtsy before hurrying back to her duties. Her apron was still pristine and her cap perfectly pressed well into the afternoon.
Appearances.
Her father was demanding when it came to the staff maintaining the standards he expected of them. That maid had several aprons all hung neatly in a closet at the end of the upstairs hallway in case she needed to change. Even being in the middle of her workday didn’t allow for her to look rumpled. Wasn’t an apron worn for the purpose of keeping dirt off one’s dress?
It was something Janette wouldn’t have questioned the need or wisdom for before her encounter with Darius. Appearances were maintained for the betterment of everyone in the family, yet now she wondered if being honest wasn’t more important. This realization vexed her. Why wasn’t she questioning the useless actions and prejudices surrounding her? It was astounding to consider how much effort was wasted on things with so little meaning.
So did that mean Darius Lawley was a more noble man than the gentleman her father claimed to be?
“Ah, there you are, Janette.” Her father gestured her into the parlor. “I’ve a friend to introduce you to. This is Dr. Nerval.”
Janette curtsied without thinking or taking the time to look at the doctor. When she raised her attention to the man sitting in the red leather armchair, a chill traveled across her skin. She’d never seen such cold eyes.
The doctor
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