“Only you’ve gone awful pale, which I hope isn’t on account of you receiving bad news, although how you could have received any without opening a single envelope I don’t know. Maybe you’d like a splash of brandy in your tea?”

Alva put the letter down and forced herself to respond calmly. She knew better than anyone how gossip traveled, and she had no desire for Hyde Park to learn all about her family problems. “No, nothing like that, Liza. I’m just a little light-headed. No doubt Cook’s excellent sandwiches will fix me up immediately.”

“I’m sure they will, ma’am,” Liza said, looking at the plate of thin sandwiches doubtfully. “Although if I might suggest it, perhaps a bit of red meat to put the blood back into you—”

“No, thank you.”

“All right. I’ll just go and see how young Jimmy’s coming along with the stove, then, only it caught fire this morning—”

“Yes, thank you, Liza, please go do that.”

As the maid bustled out of the room, her firm tread shaking the floors, Alva closed her eyes and filed the revelation of a kitchen fire that morning away for later perusal. Squaring her shoulders, she opened her eyes and sliced open the envelope. A single page fell out, crossed with delicate, spidery writing almost identical to her husband’s.

My Dearest Sister,

It was delightful beyond words to see you on Wednesday—well worth the tedious journey from the city to look upon your lovely face. Indeed, I was so lost in the pleasure of your company I neglected to share with you the important details of our arrangement. You may send the agreed-upon sum to my bankers at Drexel, Morgan & Co. (the institution you likely remember as Dabney, Morgan & Co.) on the first of every month, and if you do so regularly and promptly I see no reason why our cozy familial relationship should not continue unabated. I know how much you would abhor the unpleasantness that must result if these guidelines are not followed with the utmost strictness, and I only seek to protect you from the hurt and embarrassment that would follow.

With my everlasting regard,

Your loving brother, Alfred

Carefully, precisely, she folded the thin, fine paper in thirds, the way it had come, and placed it back in the envelope. Breathing shallowly but perfectly regularly, she walked stiffly to the fire and placed it on top. Only once it had erupted in flames, the name Alfred briefly illuminated in the burning, did she allow the anger and shaking to come.

She’d never be rid of them, Alfred, Alain, all the others who had thought it their right to control her.