She fretted through her dusting, knowing it was near the time to be making the beds upstairs. Already the guests were coming down in a noisy bunch, seeming to still be enjoying their long visit. In a few days would be the ball, so she could only imagine how much more chaotic things would grow in the time to come. If she were to discover anything about Lord Owen she would have to do so before then.
Determined, she finished the parlor and went upstairs to the first bedroom, throwing back the coverlet to air the bed while she moved about the room swiftly, keeping the door open that she might see if he went past. She had deliberately started in this room which was near to his own.
As it turned out, Alicia heard him rather than saw him. There came first a rather feminine laugh, followed by his deep rumbling reply, something she could not quite make out. Alicia grabbed a cloth and busied herself with wiping down the chair near the door, dusting it so many times the wood fair glowed from the attention as she waited an eternity for him to walk by.
They came together, the man and the woman, pausing again with that laugh between. Unable to endure the suspense she risked a glance, only to reel back a moment later, her face scarlet.
Lord Owen, the brother of the Duke, was standing only a few feet shy of his own chamber door, kissing one very flushed and giggling girl that from the back looked a great deal like Meghan.
“You would see me later, My Lord?”
Correction—who was very decidedly Meghan.
Whatever answer he gave was lost in the silence of their embrace. Alicia leaned against the wall, unable to bring herself to move, praying that they would go their separate ways, none the wiser for her having spied upon them.
A door opened and closed. Where Meghan had gone was clearly none of her business. Alicia’s imagination could bear no more of this. She would have to inform the Duke that she would not do as he bid. She had owed him, yes, for the list of guests to the ball, but had she not paid him back already? Her father had not found him alone and…compromised. That had to count for something.
“You can come out now, Alicia.” It was Meghan’s voice, bright and mocking from the doorway. Alicia opened her eyes, seeing the girl she had started to count as friend standing there, against the doorjamb, arms crossed. The very picture of one who was absolutely content, and not one who had been doing something so utterly…bold.
“Meghan, I did not mean to…I mean you were…I had no idea…” The words tumbled over themselves as Alicia tried to put together this new and interesting fact that was quite outside anything that the Duke wished to know about his brother, or that she wished to know about the only person who had chosen to befriend her in this place.
Meghan came into the room, less brash and tawdry now that the moment passed, looking for all the world more like a girl in love than one who had…
“Please, stop blushing. You are making me to blush right along with you and I cannot return to the kitchen so flushed or they will suspect. Or think I am ill. Either way, they will likely send me out. And I would not leave for anything,” Meghan said, and leaned over to help her to make the bed.
Between the two of them, the room was done in no time at all. “Should you not be in the kitchen?” Alicia asked, as her tongue finally came unglued enough to speak again.
Meghan shrugged. “I make sure that it is my job every morning to fetch the trays from the rooms. With so many guests, there are always a few who choose to eat their breakfast in bed. If I do not tarry overlong, then no one notices.”
“But you…your actions…you are so…” Alicia gave up and laughed. “Perhaps I should not judge. These are, after all, your own affairs.” But the lightness could not hold for long in her tone for her own sensibilities had to set in. “But are you not worried? To act so…”
“Shamefully?” Meghan sank down on the chair near the door, her own expression somber. “You have to understand, that I never intended this. When he first…looked…at me, it was thrilling. To catch the eye of a Lord is an exciting thing, and maybe even a touch wicked. I knew he was not serious so I avoided him. But he did not likewise avoid me.”
Alicia paled. She had heard of such things, and it shocked her now to hear it spoken of so casually. She felt a chill go down her spine, wondering if her own infatuation with the Duke was somehow a similar thing, that she could easily be bent to his own wishes. Was it so easy to fall for someone that you should not, to the point of compromising your very virtue?
The Duke is a good man. He would never…
“Lord Owen is a good man. He would never take undue advantage of a girl he had no true interest in,” Meghan was saying, and her eyes seemed brighter, her sunny disposition not one to be beaten down for long. “Maybe now that his brother is here, he will not be so intent upon appearances. Would it not be something were he to decide to make me his Lady after all?”
Meghan got up and fluffed out her skirts, taking a moment to straighten her cap upon her head. “I had best hurry with those trays. I am so glad you know. It makes it so much easier. You will not mind if I come in late tonight, will you? Of course not. How silly of me.”
“I…” Alicia’s tongue seemed to be wanting to misbehave again for she truly could not get out a word to save her life.
Meghan laughed. “We shall be two of a kind, you coming in late as you did the other night.” With that she gave Alicia a nudge and a sly look before slipping out into the corridor on feet that fairly flew in taking her to the next room.
Alicia stared after her, feeling the import of the last words sinking in, coupled with Elias’ dire warning.
Be careful who you trust.
We will be two of a kind.
The room was done. Alicia had three others on her list. She flew through them, making each bed with such violence that the blankets were pulled so taut upon the frame that you could have bounced a shilling upon it. An hour found her still shaking with barely suppressed rage, though whether it was directed at herself or the Duke she had yet to ascertain.
Be careful who you trust.
We will be two of a kind.
Her feet found their way to the study door almost of their own accord. Alicia stood a long moment in indecision, then chided herself for being silly. She had no idea if he was even in the room.
With that thought in mind, she grasped the doorknob firmly and stepped into the room.
He was there, as he had been every other time, immersed in those heavy dusty books. He looked up now at the intrusion, impatient and even put out by her appearance. She had not even knocked.
“I cannot do this,” she said without preamble. “There is no way I can continue on this path you have chosen for me. I am not yours to command, despite my being in your employ. I am here as a maid and nothing more, nor will I be. I become fascinated by you regardless of the way my heart races whenever you are near, for despite my appearance I am a Lady and will be treated as such.”
With that she sank down in the nearest chair and burst into tears.
Chapter 20
She was gone as quickly as she had come.
Jacob stared at the chair where for a full minute, perhaps two, the little maid had sat, her capped head bowed, curls peeking out beneath the brim. She’d sobbed as though her heart would break, then stopped as suddenly as she’d begun, apologized prettily and left without another word.
She never once noticed the guest seated in the chair off to the side of the desk.
“I expect that was not meant for my ears,” Tom said, somewhat laconically as Jacob bent over his books again, looking for the entry he’d been about to share with the man when they’d been so interrupted. Somehow, sheep and goats did not seem quite so important just now.
“Tell me again what you have learned about the girl’s father,” Jacob said softly. “I want to make sure that I understand.”
“He was once a Lord in his own right. At about the time that the British took possession of Ireland, his wife died of a long illness, leaving him two children to
raise, a boy and a girl. Twins. Your Alicia and her brother.”
“Who died in the wake of Garvagh,” Jacob said, with a somber shake of his head. “Ribbonmen. It seems hard to believe. What did they hope to accomplish? They were not even armed.”
“There is much you do not understand about Ireland, Your Grace. They are a passionate people, who feel that they have lost everything to a country who does not understand their needs, nor care to ascertain what those might be,” Tom replied, his expression very serious for once.
Jacob slammed the book shut, no longer interested in what it had to say. “You have spent what…a day? Two, among them and you have found out this much? What is their plan? Why do they need a list of who will be at the ball, or why do they care what we do here at Ravencliff? I have nothing to do with their politics.”
“You are an Englishman who is living on the very land that they feel in their hearts still belongs to them,” Tom pointed out, with a wry shake of his head.
Jacob got up and went to the window, staring out at the impossible green of the fields that stretched far away to the forest. “I asked for none of this. I am not to blame for their situation any more than my father was when he was given his title and lands.”
“Does it matter? You live here, on their lands, surrounded by men who would rather you did not. Have we not learned how fiercely a man will fight when he feels his home is threatened? The bloodiest battles were the ones where…” here Tom faltered.
“You might as well finish it,” Jacob replied, his expression grim. “We both said it enough aboard ship. The bloodiest battles were the ones where we were clearly in the wrong.” He set his jaw. “Such thoughts are treason, Tom, especially here and now. Are you sure you trust the men who came here as our guests?”
Tom met his gaze steadily. “How many of them have fought at your side? I would bet my life on every last one of them. In war we do things we are not proud of sometimes.”
“In peacetime, too. I have asked that girl to do things I should not have asked her to. She is caught in an impossible position. More so if she…” Jacob could not say the rest, for her words felt too fragile to repeat out loud.
Her heart races when I am near. She loves and wants only to be loved in return. But needs her father as her only tie to her past, and needs her country for without it she has lost her brother for nothing.
“I have done things that I should not have. I wish to God I had never come here. My brother was right. I would do better to leave the estate in his hands, and return to London. Is there truly any need for me to administer such a tight control over matters here?” He rested his head against the glass, staring without seeing the outbuildings, the beehive of activity that was the estate at midday.
“You held as tight a control over your ship, and because you did, we all came home. There are not many that can say the same,” Tom said softly. “Though it answers not what you will do about the girl. You will send her home after this, will you not? It seems torturous to keep her here.”
Jacob turned away from the window, unsure how to answer at first. “But is it any better there? Twice now I have been witness to her father’s abuse. What manner of man he was prior to losing his own estate means little compared to what I see in him now. He is a man driven by anger, and he has no compunction on taking it out on his own flesh and blood. Is she not better protected here?”
“You have feelings for her?” Tom said, and Jacob could not help but hear the disapproval in the other man’s voice.
“I would not compromise her. Despite what she said, I have done nothing…” Here Jacob faltered, for he wasn’t entirely sure that was the case. He remembered holding her briefly in the woods, the way her hand had felt in his.
“You have then,” Tom’s expression was stern and unyielding.
Jacob drew himself up stiffly. “I have held her hand. Nothing more. I would have had more contact with her upon a ballroom floor.”
“Except you would not, for she is a servant and unlikely to be invited to any balls,” Tom pointed out and Jacob shot him a startled look.
“I think that is a thing we are both forgetting. She is more than a servant,” Jacob said thoughtfully.
Tom frowned. “I rather distrust that expression upon your face. If you are planning something, Your Grace, then I need to remind you of the last piece of this particular puzzle that you seem to be overlooking.”
“And what is that?” Jacob asked, learning against the corner of his desk, with his arms crossed as Tom fidgeted beneath his gaze.
To his credit, Tom held his position. “Simply this. That your life seems to be in danger, and you are too preoccupied with playing spy to notice.”
Chapter 21
The next day, Elias slid into the empty seat beside Alicia upon the bench at the midday meal, leaning past her to help himself to the bread piled in a basket on the center of the table. “You have me following the wrong brother,” he said quietly, when she looked at him in surprise.
“You need not follow anyone at all, I was entirely mistaken in that,” she said tartly, drinking the last of her milk and setting the mug down with a thump.
He sketched a mock bow in his seat, ending with a silly bob of the head that left several of the maids seated nearby laughing. Alicia saw the envious looks darted her way and sighed inwardly, for she little cared to be creating more reasons for them to hate her, already having quite enough of her own.
“Stop that,” she muttered crossly, staring at the remains of her meal, her appetite quite fled. “As I said, I have no interest in either brother.”
Elias reached for the butter only to have the girl across the table just about dive for it, that she might be the one to place it within his hand herself. “You should, though. The younger is up to the top of his boots in intrigue, and the older…well, let us say, is to be made example of.”
Alicia turned toward him, not caring who was watching. “You are warning me of something. Why are you constantly warning me of things I cannot control? Are you wanting to make me leave?”
He glanced uneasily around the table before bending close, earning her another glare from the trio seated across from them. “I was cruel to you…not all that long ago. When I was sent to keep an eye on you—”
It took great effort to school her features, to smile as though she were flirting, to allay suspicion. “What do you mean, sent to keep an eye on me?”
“You were seen to have become…too close to things here. They knew—”
“Five days! I have been here five days!” she exclaimed, much too loud, for she heard a laugh clearly directed at her.
“All the same, they suspected. There were some…be that as it may, I am warning you now, and for the last time. I have my own duty to perform after this. Do what you will with the information.”
“An example…” She started to ask what that meant but Elias stuffed the rest of his bread into his mouth and rose, taking his plate and cup with him.
“Sorry, love. Duty calls,” he said over his shoulder before he was done chewing. The sight was disgusting, and she near laughed when she saw the expressions of the girls who had spent the last ten minutes clearly mooning over him.
Alicia sat for a moment staring at her plate. The chicken had congealed in its gravy and no longer held any appeal at all. Since yesterday she had avoided the Duke. Today was another matter entirely.
Duty. What a strange choice in words.
Another message. Elias had been trying to tell her something. She puzzled over the words again, trying to remember everything exactly as he had said it.
He was following the wrong brother.
What if he were letting her know that she needed to be following the Duke? The clue about Owen was nothing surprising, even the Duke knew he was up to his boots in trouble, else why would he have wanted her to find out what he was doing in the first place? But to ‘make an example’ felt somehow more ominous.
Follow the Duke.
How wou
ld someone make an example of the Duke?
It came together so quickly in her mind that Alicia shot to her feet. The only thing that made sense was that the Duke was in danger. Why else would she be told to follow him?
She bolted from the room, her hand over her mouth as though to hold in something that wasn’t sitting well. In truth, she did feel ill, very ill. If what she was thinking was in fact correct, then everything else suddenly made terrible sense.
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