conscience. Julia told herself that the twinge she felt was hunger; it’d been hours since breakfast. She told herself she wasn’t deliberately trying to postpone the moment when she’d have to introduce Mr. Alver to her all-too-pretty and far-too-charming stepsister.
She grabbed at the handkerchief-wrapped biscuit she’d stuffed into the edge of her basket this morning before she’d gone on her walk. She would have eaten it earlier, but even she could see that it would have seemed rude and unladylike to eat in front of Mr. Alver.
She finished the biscuit as Claire watched, and, examining the too-perfect features of her younger stepsister, Julia noted that the biscuit hadn’t helped. She still felt queasy at the thought of introducing Mr. Alver to Claire. Though she hadn’t met a lot of eligible men in the years since Archie, it was universally true that all the men she had met had been noticeably less interested in her after they’d met Claire. That was just the way of things: men, like magpies, were attracted to things that were shiny. And in the right gown and under the right lighting, Claire practically glittered.
Not that Julia could even say Mr. Alver was interested in her. He’d walked with her and joked with her a little. But what did a walk and a joke mean, really?
Julia shifted her basket and picked up the bag of lemon peels she’d prepared yesterday.
“Well, I’m off again. So wish me luck,” she said.
Claire wrinkled her nose again. “I thought you were past the trial-and-error stage of all this? Where you needed unscientific things like luck?”
Julia hesitated, not sure how much she should reveal. Her father knew only that Julia helped out with a charitable project. Claire knew that some of the herbs and lemons were for the production of various scents, but not much beyond that.
“Every new scent is a new experiment, I’ve told you that.”
“‘I’ve told you that,’” Claire mimicked. “It’s amazing how you never tire of saying that.”
“No, I never do.”
Claire walked to the back door. “Well then, I won’t keep you from your work.”
There was a slight edge in her voice. Claire had always been a little miffed that this was one project Julia never invited her to help with, despite their closeness.
If Julia could have, she would have told Claire about it long ago. The problem was that it wasn’t her project—not really, despite her long involvement in, and support of, all aspects of it. It was Jack LeMay’s. And despite the fact that the three of them had practically grown up together, Jack and Claire did not get along. Which meant that Julia had very strict orders about not telling Claire about any aspects of Jack’s side projects.
She smiled a little, realizing that it didn’t seem accurate to call them “side projects” any longer. What had begun as necessity, as a way of funding temporary homes for women in need had grown into increasingly large, factories and establishments, and that, in turn had become a small empire of sorts, a self-sustaining business that was both profitable and expanding. Few who knew Jack would have believed that he was quickly becoming a business magnate, perhaps more so because he insisted that so much of it stay silent and anonymous.
Julia was certain that she was the only one in Munthrope who knew the true extent of Jack’s holdings and interests, and though she’d been fundamental in helping him get started, she doubted that even she knew just how successful he was. He always insisted that she was more of a partner than anything else and always offered to invest or reinvest her share of their profits, but finances had never really been something she’d been interested in. She’d given him almost every half penny of what she’d inherited from her mother, not because she’d wanted to get rich or even because she’d thought there were better than even odds of getting a portion of her money back.
Jack was her friend, and she
She grabbed at the handkerchief-wrapped biscuit she’d stuffed into the edge of her basket this morning before she’d gone on her walk. She would have eaten it earlier, but even she could see that it would have seemed rude and unladylike to eat in front of Mr. Alver.
She finished the biscuit as Claire watched, and, examining the too-perfect features of her younger stepsister, Julia noted that the biscuit hadn’t helped. She still felt queasy at the thought of introducing Mr. Alver to Claire. Though she hadn’t met a lot of eligible men in the years since Archie, it was universally true that all the men she had met had been noticeably less interested in her after they’d met Claire. That was just the way of things: men, like magpies, were attracted to things that were shiny. And in the right gown and under the right lighting, Claire practically glittered.
Not that Julia could even say Mr. Alver was interested in her. He’d walked with her and joked with her a little. But what did a walk and a joke mean, really?
Julia shifted her basket and picked up the bag of lemon peels she’d prepared yesterday.
“Well, I’m off again. So wish me luck,” she said.
Claire wrinkled her nose again. “I thought you were past the trial-and-error stage of all this? Where you needed unscientific things like luck?”
Julia hesitated, not sure how much she should reveal. Her father knew only that Julia helped out with a charitable project. Claire knew that some of the herbs and lemons were for the production of various scents, but not much beyond that.
“Every new scent is a new experiment, I’ve told you that.”
“‘I’ve told you that,’” Claire mimicked. “It’s amazing how you never tire of saying that.”
“No, I never do.”
Claire walked to the back door. “Well then, I won’t keep you from your work.”
There was a slight edge in her voice. Claire had always been a little miffed that this was one project Julia never invited her to help with, despite their closeness.
If Julia could have, she would have told Claire about it long ago. The problem was that it wasn’t her project—not really, despite her long involvement in, and support of, all aspects of it. It was Jack LeMay’s. And despite the fact that the three of them had practically grown up together, Jack and Claire did not get along. Which meant that Julia had very strict orders about not telling Claire about any aspects of Jack’s side projects.
She smiled a little, realizing that it didn’t seem accurate to call them “side projects” any longer. What had begun as necessity, as a way of funding temporary homes for women in need had grown into increasingly large, factories and establishments, and that, in turn had become a small empire of sorts, a self-sustaining business that was both profitable and expanding. Few who knew Jack would have believed that he was quickly becoming a business magnate, perhaps more so because he insisted that so much of it stay silent and anonymous.
Julia was certain that she was the only one in Munthrope who knew the true extent of Jack’s holdings and interests, and though she’d been fundamental in helping him get started, she doubted that even she knew just how successful he was. He always insisted that she was more of a partner than anything else and always offered to invest or reinvest her share of their profits, but finances had never really been something she’d been interested in. She’d given him almost every half penny of what she’d inherited from her mother, not because she’d wanted to get rich or even because she’d thought there were better than even odds of getting a portion of her money back.
Jack was her friend, and she
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