The Offices of Shrikeweed, Wensbrooke, and Kenge
Aurelie had actually told her "no".
When she had prepared herself for her reunion with her little sister, Lillianna Steerpike had worried about a great many things. Worries that she wasn't often given to, for she simply had no need of them. There were worries for her sister's health, of course, for while she knew Brunnhold was a shelter for those with her sister's affliction she also knew that it was not always the most kindly of shelters. And her sister had such delicate nerves. Ana had worried, too, that Aurelie might have been angry with her, or bitter. While it was hardly unreasonable to not have seen each other in all of this time--expected, even--Ana couldn't help but fret that Birdie might hold it against her. There was also the concern that the news of their parents would have broken her fragile temperament, especially so late as it was in coming. All of these worries were laid to rest at the moment of their tearful reunion. So it was only the one that she had not thought to have that remained--her sister had actually refused to be taken home.
The thought made her jaw set, beautiful face drawing into a perfect frown. "No" was not a word Ana was accustomed to hearing, least of all from Aurelie. She had always been such a biddable child, hadn't she? Small and quiet, but she always did what she was told. Deferential. Shy. At least that was how she had been in the past. The girl that had stood before her in that office had been sweet, to be sure, and as fragile as Ana remembered--but stubborn. A family trait, and Ana had been almost proud of it. Still. A frustrated sigh escaped her at the memory.
"Ma'am...?"
Ana returned to present reality at the sound of a quiet voice from across the carriage. Marianne, her ladies' maid, was looking at her with an expression of concern. Marianne was a proper enough sort of girl, human, dark-haired and demure. She had come from the right sort of people for the work, and was such a deft hand with a hairpin--Ana often found herself thinking that she would be lost without her services. When she finally chose to marry and leave her employ, replacing her would be difficult indeed. Her soft voice drew Ana back to herself, made her aware of the tense crackling of her field. That, too, was vexing--she was not often given to such a loss of control. With an effort, she smoothed it out again, her expression settling into something benign. Marianne had looked tense, but relaxed when she did so. Good.
"What is it, Mary?"
"I believe we've arrived."
Ah yes, that was right. The business of the lawyer. Aurelie may have told her that she had no desire to come home, but she would come around. Ana was sure of it. Legal proceedings could be quite long, she knew--it had taken her months to even begin to settle the matters of Julietta and Edmund's estate. What was the use in wasting time waiting for when Aurelie would see sense, then? It was inevitable. There was no better place for Aurelie than at Ana's side. She had heard her objections, and they were sweet, but they were certainly nothing to dissuade Ana from her intentions. Likely by the time this dreadful business was well underway, Aurelie would have come to realize that Ana's broader perspective was the correct one. The fault wasn’t Aurelie’s, of course--Ana was sure that to her the objections she’d voiced seemed very grave indeed.
The carriage had come to a stop outside of the Shrikeweed, Wensbrooke, and Kenge. The office was not large, but it was well-respected and had great potential to suit the elder Steerpike's needs. It had taken weeks of frustrating false starts to get this far, and she couldn't help but be hopeful that this time she would find someone willing and able to assist. Surely there must be someone in all of Anaxas who was adequate for the job. Marianne assisted her out of the carriage with her usual deft grace. Truly, Ana would be so very sorry to see her go. Her steady, well-mannered presence did bolster Ana so. The older woman was grateful, too, for Mary’s insistence on a restrained, almost masculine (but not too much so) choice for Ana’s hair and attire--catching a glimpse of herself in the reflection of a window, Ana noted with no small satisfaction that she made an imposing figure indeed in her stark sapphire jacket and dark grey skirt. Good. She would have no more of this being jerked about, not now.
Upon entering, the pair found themselves greeted by a tallish woman of indeterminate age who put Ana in mind of nothing so much as an unbaked bread roll. A secretary of some kind, she could only assume. To this woman she smiled pleasantly, her field and demeanor all pleasantry and purpose.
"Good morning. Is a Mr. Shrikeweed in? I believe we have an appointment--Ms. Lilliana Steerpike. I know I’m just a touch early." To the secretary--a Ms. Botterill, she noted--she gave a dazzling, apologetic smile. She was indeed early, by nearly a full half-hour. There was no doubt in her mind that this would pose no issue. Or at least, no issue she couldn’t surmount.