Jacob nodded, wondering why it was that such a brief glimpse of her did more to bring an uneven stutter to his heart than any of the fine English ladies that his mother was so quick to foist upon him. “You understand my concern,” he said softly.
Tom nodded. “Indubitably.”
Chapter 11
Alicia deposited her tray in the kitchen where a bevy of servants fussed at filling it, while she went to the sink to pump herself a drink of water. She stood in the kitchen doorway where it was cool, turning over the stranger’s words in her mind. Part of a greater purpose. It was sometimes easy to forget, when one lived so far removed from the reality with which she had grown up.
She glanced around the kitchen, at the tray nearly full of cakes, at the girls by the sink washing up the dishes from dinner, to the other woman rolling out dough to make pastries for morning. She wondered if there was ever a time the kitchen was truly quiet or if there was always activity, things going on behind closed doors on behalf of the great lords and ladies they served.
Another one of the servants saw her standing there and came over, with a shy smile. “I can take the tray back. You have a guest,” she said, nodding toward the door.
Alicia’s eyes widened. “A guest! I am nae the sort to—”
The girl smothered a laugh. “He said he is your father. ‘Wanting to check upon his only daughter in her new employ’,” she said, deepening her voice to better mimic him. She laughed. “Just do not let Marigold catch you at it. Family or not, she is not one to enjoy seeing a lass shirk her duty.”
“Then perhaps I should not…” Alicia began uncertainly, casting an uneasy look out the open door.
“Silly! Me own Da came to do the same when I started here. Let him see you are well enough and he will go home content. It is the way of fathers to want to know their offspring are well taken care of. Besides, ‘tis likely he has been there a while. Do not keep the man out in the cold. I will cover for you if anyone asks.”
Alicia studied the rosy-cheeked girl, with soft blonde curls that peeked out from beneath her cap. “I do not even know your name. How could I possibly…”
“Don’t trouble yerself. Do me a turn someday. I be Tara O’Hanlon. I expect we will be great friends,” the girl replied, with a friendly smile upon her freckled face.
The tray was ready. Tara was there in an instant, already lifting it, pausing to cast a wink in Alicia’s direction before setting off down the hall. It was over and done with so quickly that no one seemed to notice or even care that it was not Alicia herself who had taken it. Alicia blinked and looked around the room. Marigold was nowhere in sight, and everyone else seemed occupied with their own tasks.
What harm can it be?
The question left her uneasy. This was no fatherly visit to express concern, and well she knew it. That he had chanced coming to the kitchen door was at once appalling and frightening in the risk he had taken.
Before she could give herself time to think about it more and thus talk herself out of such folly, Alicia slipped outside into the twilight world that lay just beyond the kitchen door.
With so many guests, there was scarcely a room that had not been lit from within. Nearly every window cast light upon the kitchen gardens, giving them a soft glow. For a moment, Alicia was disoriented until she heard a soft sound from nearby.
“Girl…here!”
She saw the shape of him near the garden gate. Heart in her throat, Alicia hurried over the uneven path, her feet faltering over the unfamiliar cobblestones. He reached for her, drawing her into the darkness where he met her, not with kindness, but a resounding slap across her face.
Alicia’s head snapped back and for a moment she could not see, her gaze too tear-filled as she tried to look past him toward the house where she was sure that someone would have heard. Yet all was quiet here, with only the sounds of the dishes being washed and the thump of dough against the breadboard mingling with the soft voices of the workers about their tasks. “Da…”
“Do you think I do not know?” he asked her.
For a moment she wondered how it was that he could have ascertained that she had spoken with the new Duke, who had proven kind and not the monster she had been led to believe. She opened her mouth to protest this, wanting to explain that there was naught but a few words, that were meaningless, but he continued, giving her a rough shake that caught her by surprise.
Alicia pulled away from him, shaking from fear and anger combined. “I have done nothing wrong.”
“Nor have you done anything right,” he countered, his low voice filled with contempt and a slight slurring of speech that told her he had likely occupied his time waiting with strong spirits. She recoiled from him and would have fled had he not gripped her arm roughly, holding her there against him. “Tell me what you have found out and I will let you go.”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Though he could not see her cry in the darkness, she still refused to let them fall, knowing from long experience it would only enrage him further. He had not raised his daughter to be a weak simpering fool, he would say, and punish her twice as hard for the weeping.
Her head snapped up and she met his gaze head on, seeing the dark glitter of his eyes reflecting the light from the house, making them almost seem to glow in the darkness. “I have not had much chance, for they work me hard,” she retorted, feeling the stiffness in her cheek where he had struck her. “There are guests. A ball.”
“Tell me a thing I do not already know. We know the date of the ball, but have you at least the names of those attending?”
Alicia’s mouth opened and closed. Such a simple question and she did not even know this much. Her failure was as stark as the handprint that had to still be visible upon her face. “I do not,” she whispered, and he shook her again, this time hard enough that she could feel her teeth rattling in her head. Angrily she pulled away. This time he let her go.
“What good are you?” he hissed, turning his back on her. “Your brother would be ashamed.”
For a brief, wild and giddy moment, she considered running back to the house but she held her ground. Her brother gave his life for the cause. She stayed, torn and undecided. “I will try. Tonight I will have a chance. I can get into the Duke’s study…” she said, her tone pleading with him to understand.
Giving voice now to her plan made it seem foolish. She had no assurance that she would be able to enter the study while the household slept. And had she not seen how busy the kitchen still was at this hour? Did a house this size truly sleep? There was no guarantee she would have any opportunity to do as she wished.
But her father knew nothing of her inner turmoil She could see him nodding, accepting her decision. He turned back toward her, his eyes glittering again in the darkness. Like a serpent’s, she realized.
“Do it then. Have something for me when next I return. I will come in the morning.”
She swallowed hard. “But not like this. It is too risky.”
He laughed at her, the sound harsh and too loud in the quiet of the garden. “Do you take me for a fool, girl? Trust your old father to still have some tricks in his bag. Though you have the right of it. You best go. If any ask, you stepped outside because you were feeling ill. Off with you.”
The glance she gave him was angry and troubled, but she made her way back to the kitchen door all the same, positive she could feel his eyes upon her every step of the way. She paused outside a moment, one hand pressing the cheek that still stung from his slap. There was no lie to her feeling ill, for her stomach was still fair roiling from the encounter.
Marigold was waiting for her as she came through the door. For a moment they stared at each other, Alicia’s hand still pressed to her cheek. “I…I was feeling ill…” she said, hating the way the lie tasted upon her tongue.
Marigold only nodded, half turning away to cover the rising dough on the breadboards, speaking idly, half over her shoulder as she worked. “There are many of us who came to this house
that understand that kind of illness. I would suggest you not bring it here into the manor with you.”
There was both commiseration and warning in her words. Alicia swallowed hard, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “Yes, Mistress.”
The woman turned toward her briefly, and Alicia saw the quiet sympathy there in the liquid depths. “Do not let a lover take you from the opportunity that you will find here,” she said softly, so that no one else could hear.
“I have no lover!” Alicia exclaimed, her cheeks burning at the insinuation.
“Father, then?” Mistress Marigold’s look was one of pity. “That is worse in some ways. There is nothing more difficult than to break free from the past, and the ties that are intent upon binding you to it.” She shook her head. “Why not get some rest? With a mark such as you wear tonight, you are not fit for service, and there is little enough left here to do.”
“I thank you, Mistress,” Alicia murmured and bobbed a short curtsey before fleeing from the room, not wanting to see the sympathetic stares of the few who remained to finish the cleanup for the night.
Alicia fled from the room, deeply shamed by Mistress Marigold’s kindness. What would the older woman say if she knew her true purpose here? Alicia shuddered. Would she be hanged as a traitor? Worse?
I have an overly vivid imagination. I am doing no harm. How does it hurt anyone here if I do what he asked? What matter is it whether anyone knows which guests are upon the list for the ball? It will be public knowledge soon enough when they show up to attend. And if it satisfies my father…
Alicia touched her cheek again, tracing the outline of the welt just beneath her eye.
What if I do not wish to satisfy my father when I have known nothing but kindness here? When has he been kind?
This was a new and startling thought. For a moment she hesitated upon the stair that led to the servant’s quarters, considering what to do. She could continue upstairs, and take to her bed early as she was bid, that she might take her place within the household tomorrow. She could forget this nonsense and instead build a life here. The work was hard, but the servants were not badly treated.
Or I can do what I was bid to do. And earn not only the pride of her father, but that of the Ribbonmen. She would honor her brother.
Alicia’s cheek no longer stung. There were some things worth fighting for. Worth dying for. If she could not believe that, then her brother’s life had been lost in vain.
Decision made, she turned around and headed for the Duke’s study. The hour was late. Surely the room would be empty by now.
Chapter 12
There was only so much socializing that a man could do, even among friends. The truth was, Jacob had too many things on his mind to concentrate well on the card games, and was not in much mood for small talk. Though he was relieved that Tom had left upon his mission, Jacob was not adept at waiting. But neither was he being a good host.
Finally, recognizing that perhaps his guests were better entertained by his mother, who held court in the corner of the drawing room where she regaled the newcomers with stories about the trials that came of living in Ireland, Jacob made his excuses with every intent of leaving.
The problem was Owen, who espied him making his escape and cut him off before he could reach the door.
“Brother, it seems you have stolen a march upon Mother’s ball by inviting so many congenial guests. I am impressed by such a bold move, and honored that you would feel the household up to the task of entertaining so many upon such short notice.”
Jacob blinked, for he had not supposed Owen would have learned such fine artistry with words in his absence. To be able to couch an insult with a compliment had always been his mother’s domain. Seeing now the diplomacy with which his brother spoke, and the darker shades of meaning he gave to his words, Jacob became aware that once again he had underestimated his brother.
He smiled now as he addressed Owen, for he had faced down worse adversaries, far more skilled than his brother and three times as deadly, and had still managed to best them all. “I had thought to wait, but with so many enjoying leave at the same time, it seemed fair timing. I had no doubt that I would find Ravencliff ready and waiting for my return. I was told as much by my solicitor.”
“Leave.” Owen’s lip curled in distaste as though he had scented something foul. “I was rather shocked to find those you call your closest confidantes should be nothing more than a motley collection of officers from your command.”
Jacob stiffened. “Given that I have spent the better part of the last few years at sea, I would say that my social circle might have become considerably different than yours. I expect I shall meet your own close acquaintances at Mother’s soiree. Tell me, Brother, how do you find polite society here?”
The question was met with stony silence during which he could see Owen become very aware of the way several men had gathered around Jacob. This was an unfriendly group who made it very clear in the way they held themselves that they would brook no harm coming to their Captain. Owen would be a fool not to realize that.
“Your Grace, is everything all right here?” asked the nearest.
Jacob lifted a hand to stay them, grateful for their support, though also well aware that their unconscious desire to shield him from harm had perhaps made him an enemy of his brother. “Thank you, William. But I was just leaving. Please, enjoy the revelry without me.” With that he nodded to his brother and the assembly, and took his leave.
He did not wait to see if Owen would follow or not, moving swiftly to his study where he came to stand in front of the fire, grateful to see that it had not been allowed to go out. The heat helped assuage the sudden chill he felt now that he had a moment to himself.
Owen’s eyes had narrowed in that final statement, a look that had been fleeting, but deadly in its intensity. That his brother had been put out by his arrival was clear. For the sake of the estate, and for his mother who doted on both her sons, he would have to find some way in which to manage this rivalry.
Jacob threw another log on the fire, knowing he should call a servant to build it up properly but unable to summon the energy to deal with one more person tonight. His time at sea had taught him to shift for himself in moments of crisis, what was one fire to him now? He used the long poker to shift things around until the fire came up brightly, sending long shadows chasing across the floor.
Tired suddenly, Jacob flung himself into the nearest armchair to think. The dance of the flames was hypnotic. The warmth of the fire had a soporific effect. The day had been long, and the night made even more so by the impromptu arrival of his guests. He could not remember the last moment he’d had to himself.
I think perhaps it was when she came into the room.
That blasted tray. But as much as he tried, he could not regret that particular interruption. Maybe his last moments alone had been those that had preceded her arrival, but his last moments where he’d felt truly at peace had been while they’d talked, and he’d seen for the first time her shy smile and the way curls framed her face so prettily when she ducked her head.
Jealousies, conspiracies—what were they to a pretty face coupled with a keen wit and a shining sense of humor? Jacob’s eyes drifted closed. Let him take the impish serving girl into his dreams, where they might converse again.
Chapter 13
Heart beating wildly within her breast, Alicia stared at the sleeping figure by the fire.
The Duke is here, in his study. He should have been in the drawing room with his guests. Why is he here?
The problem was, she’d strode into the study with such confidence that the room would be empty, she’d been halfway to the Duke’s desk before she’d realized he was there. Now, to escape, she would have to go past him again, and pray to whatever gods that had kept him asleep thus far that he remained so until after she’d left.
Alicia held her breath and turned.
Behind her the sleeper stirred, making a strange sound that
might have been a word. One that sounded strangely like, “lass.”
Terrified that she had been discovered, Alicia remained frozen for several long moments, shoulders hunched as waiting upon a blow that never came. A soft snore told her she was being foolish. He had only murmured in his sleep. Relaxing enough to turn her head, she shifted her gaze upon the sleeping man’s face.
The Duke was truly a handsome man. A tumble of dark hair fell over his forehead, giving him a boyish look. This was a man who seemed gentle, almost innocent, in repose. His face was too pale by far, with the strain of the day showing around his mouth and eyes. His hands twitched restlessly, and she wondered if he were dreaming, and if so, what brought that look of consternation and even fear to his face.
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