by Joanna Shupe
Chapter Thirteen
Chaos descended the next morning.
An hour after the household began stirring, Mama burst into Alice’s room. Alice was still in bed, miserable after a terrible night’s sleep, her ankle throbbing in pain. Clearly, she wouldn’t be able to participate in the sailing excursion today, an outing she’d been looking forward to.
“Mama.” Alice put down her teacup. “You’re up early.”
“I’ve directed your maid to begin packing your things. We are leaving.”
Alice’s jaw fell open, dread slithering along her spine. Had her mother learned of Kit’s late-night visit? That had to be the reason for the hasty departure. “I can explain—”
“I saw that . . . harlot coming in out of the rain last night with another man. He kissed her on the mouth.”
Mind racing, Alice tried to piece this together. The rain? “Who, Mama?”
“The Webster girl and the Archer boy. It was absolutely disgusting and I won’t have you in this house a moment longer. As soon as I speak with Mr. Webster, we will be on the first train back to New York City.”
Maddie and Harrison had been out last night, kissing? Seemed Alice and Kit weren’t the only two busy with clandestine activities while the rest of the house slept.
Still, Alice didn’t want Mama to ruin the house party. There might be a simple explanation for what she’d seen. “Perhaps you shouldn’t involve yourself. After all, Miss Webster and Mr. Archer have been friends for many years.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” her mother snapped. “I know what I saw, and your reputation will be ruined if we don’t leave immediately.”
There would be no talking her mother out of it. Years of experience had taught Alice this, so there was no choice but to go along. They would leave today, period.
“Furthermore,” Mama continued, “it was my duty to notify the other chaperones of this behavior first thing this morning. Rest assured that everyone else will depart today, as well.”
Mortification crawled through Alice’s belly. Every young lady would blame Alice and her mother for ruining the house party, not to mention how Maddie and Harrison would feel. Or Kit.
God, Kit. He would learn of this, too. Her mother was embarrassing his close friends, ruining Maddie’s reputation. Alice wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to her again.
He wasn’t going to speak to you after the party ended, anyway.
That stung, and something twisted in her chest. They were supposed to have more time together—another day, at least. Now she’d never see him again.
Her throat began to ache. She tried swallowing, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. Their time together had been cut short and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.
You’ll learn to live with it, just like you learn to live with everything else.
She was no stranger to disappointment. Kit would become another one of those longings tucked away, buried deep, that she rarely allowed herself to think about. He would move on, charming and bedding women up and down the island of Manhattan, while she would marry a man and start her own life, far away from her mother.
Alice’s maid arrived and the next hour was spent listening to Mama issue orders while overseeing their departure. Alice could do nothing but sit and wait, and with each second her sadness mounted. She dreaded hobbling downstairs and coming across any of the houseguests or Maddie. Or, God forbid, Kit. Everyone must hate her.
It won’t be any different from before the house party, before you made friends.
“Alice.” Mama poked her head into Alice’s room. “I am going downstairs to meet with Mr. Webster. Be ready to depart when I return.”
Clasping her hands together tightly, Alice nodded. Her maid had already helped her to dress, which had been nothing short of torture with a hurt ankle. The doctor seemed certain Alice would recover within a week’s time, but it didn’t feel as though that were possible at the moment. Instead, her leg and foot were throbbing like she’d been run over by a carriage wheel.
A knock on the door startled her. “Yes?”
Nellie appeared. “How are you—?” Her jaw snapped shut as she took in the trunk on the floor. “What’s going on? Are you leaving?”
She might as well confess to Nellie. “Yes. Come in and close the door.”
“Is this because of your ankle?” Nellie drew closer to Alice’s chair. “Has it worsened?”
“No. This is because my mother caught Maddie and Harrison kissing last night.”
Nellie gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Are you serious?”
“Entirely. My mother is meeting with Mr. Webster right now to tell him everything.”
“Oh, shit.” Nellie’s eyes grew huge and she glanced at the door. “I have to wake Maddie. I have to warn her. Thank you, Alice.”
“You shouldn’t thank me, not when I ruined the house party. All the chaperones have already been notified.”
“You haven’t ruined anything,” Nellie said vehemently. “Do you hear me? Not you. This is your mother’s doing.”
Alice grimaced. People never viewed it as such. All her life she had been judged alongside her mother, disregarded because her mother was overbearing and rude. No one wanted to befriend a girl who lived under such a dark cloud.
“I’m serious,” Nellie said when Alice remained quiet. “And don’t forget about what else I said. Cut off those rotten branches so that you may thrive, Alice.”
“Thank you. I’m glad I got to know you these past few days.”
Nellie’s mouth hitched as her eyes softened. “Me, too. But you’re not rid of me so easily, Alice Lusk. I’ll see you back in New York.”
“Really?” Alice cleared her throat against a sudden rush of emotion. “I mean, you still wish to be friends even after what happened?”
“Of course. Why would I hold your mother’s actions against you?”
Because people did. All the time.
Like the few men who’d come to call on Alice but never returned after Mama talked over them the entire visit. Or Miss Wilson, who now avoided Alice because Mama did nothing but brag about the Lusk yacht during dinner one night. Carrie Astor had invited them to tea but cut the afternoon short when Alice’s mother snapped at a maid for spilling a tiny drop of cream on her skirts. Not a single member of the Astor family had acknowledged Alice since.
Nellie waved her hand. “I don’t have time to dive into this subject, so we’ll table it for now. Just know you are nothing like your mother—and thank God for that. Now, I must go find Maddie. See you back in New York.”
She disappeared and Alice was left alone with a tiny kernel of hope in her chest.
Kit knew something was wrong the second he awoke.
His bedroom overlooked the front of the house and he could hear carriages and staff, a general hustle and bustle that was unusual at this time of day. Unless guests were arriving or departing—
Bolting out of bed, he hurried to the window. Sure enough, footmen were loading trunks atop the line of carriages waiting in the drive. This wasn’t one or two departures.
This was everyone.
Goddamn it. What had happened?
He dressed quickly, shaving himself to save time. His valet turned even the simplest tasks into a production, which Kit normally appreciated, but he had to hurry this particular morning. If Alice was one of those departures . . .
Throwing open his door, he shrugged into his coat on the way down the hall. Harrison’s room was empty, so Kit continued in the direction of the stairs. When he reached the landing, he found Nellie Young at the railing, observing the chaos below. All the chaperones and young ladies were gathered in the front hall, milling about and chattering, the din worse than the betting window at the racetrack.
He stopped alongside Nellie. “What in the hell is going on?”
“Oh, just a tiny little scandal. You see, Alice’s mother caught Harrison and Maddie kissing last night after they were outside in the rain toge
ther.”
“Jesus.” He dragged a hand through his wet hair. “Then what?”
“First she told Maddie’s father, who subsequently had a long chat with Lockwood and Harrison. And Mrs. Lusk told all the chaperones, which resulted in the exodus you are currently witnessing below.”
How could Harrison have been so stupid? Had Kit taught him nothing over the years?
“Where’s Maddie?”
“In her rooms. Her father is forcing her to marry Harrison this afternoon.”
Kit threw his head back and laughed. “The bastard actually did it. I can’t believe it.”
“Amazing, isn’t it?”
“What about Lockwood?”
“The duke has already departed. Ordered his things packed and drove off about fifteen minutes after leaving Mr. Webster’s office.”
“Boy, I really missed all the excitement today.”
“Not all of it. I assume you are staying for the wedding.”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Are you?”
“Yes. Maddie asked me to attend, even though my aunt is having a fit about staying. I keep telling her my reputation is already ruined, so what difference does another scandal make?”
Kit searched the faces below, looking for one in particular. “Have you seen Miss Lusk?”
“Hoping to arrange for another lesson in New York?”
His head swung toward her. “She told you?”
“Yes, she did. And while she claims it isn’t serious, I have to wonder about that.”
“I would never hurt her—and we can discuss this later. Right now, I’d like to find her.”
Nellie tilted her head toward the drawing room. “She’s sitting on the sofa in there. She can’t walk or stand easily with her sore ankle.”
Right. He should have guessed. Moving around Nellie, he started for the main stairs. She put a hand on his arm. “Take the servants’ stairs. You’ll be able to sneak in there without this lot”—she gestured to the crowd below—“seeing you.”
“Thanks.”
He practically ran to the back stairs, which were empty at the moment. Once on the ground floor, he traveled through the rooms, not the hallways, and ended up at the entrance to the drawing room. A quick check revealed that Alice was alone with Katherine Delafield, their chaperones nowhere to be seen.
When he came in, Alice’s head flew up. She didn’t say anything, just watched him approach from her seat on the couch.
“Hello,” Miss Delafield said. “You’ve heard the news, I suppose.”
“I have,” Kit confirmed. “Cannot say I’m surprised.”
“Me neither. Harrison must be overjoyed.”
“I would imagine so. I haven’t seen him yet.”
Alice said nothing, merely fingered a button on her jacket. An awkward silence descended, and Katherine pointed to the entryway. “I should find my aunt. Alice, we’ll catch up in the city. Goodbye, Mr. Ward.”
“Goodbye, Miss Delafield.”
She left and Kit walked over to Alice. “How is your ankle?”
“Still hurts.”
He lowered himself to the other end of the sofa. “I sense that you’re upset. Have I done something wrong?”
She looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “All of this is my fault.”
“Your mother’s fault, from what I hear.”
“I suppose, but everyone will be talking about her. About me.”
“Let them talk. In the end it won’t matter because Harrison and Maddie were destined to end up together. The scandal was bound to happen at some point before she married the duke.”
“She is so embarrassing,” Alice whispered, her expression miserable, and Kit didn’t pretend to misunderstand the person they were discussing.
“I know how that feels,” he said quietly. “My father is a well-dressed confidence man. While he didn’t peddle phony medicinal tonic, he fleeced everyone in sight for years. Spent my mother’s fortune, then drained the trust funds of my brother and sister. He has no moral compass, no conscience and no limit to his depravity.”
“I’m sorry.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “He left my mother when she started to grow ill. Started a new family out West with her money before she was even in the ground. So yes, I know a little about embarrassing parents.”
Her fingers reached for his hand, and she squeezed. “Thank you for sharing that.”
Blowing out a long breath, he shook off those terrible memories. “What I’m trying to say is forget about her. You are not your mother, Alice. No one could ever confuse the two of you. Not in a million years.”
“You are very kind.”
“I am only telling the truth. Remember, I said I’d never lie to you?”
“I remember. Thank you. For everything.”
That sounded ominous. “Listen, Alice. I know you said it would be impossible to continue our bargain in New York, but I have some ideas on how—”
“Kit, no.”
He blinked at her immediate refusal to hear him out. “Just like that? You don’t even wish to hear what I have to say?”
“It’s pointless. There are too many barriers and I think it’s for the best.”
Disappointment sank in his stomach. “Why?”
“We’ll be caught. It’s just too difficult.”
She didn’t meet his eyes, her hands fidgeting once more. “You’re not telling me the truth.”
“Yes, I am. You just don’t believe me.”
“You’re right, I don’t. There is another reason you don’t want to see me. Is it . . . ? Have I pushed you too far?” Christ, he’d massaged her breast last night. Had he horrified her? He’d been so certain she was enjoying it, but he hadn’t asked. “Last night, did I—?”
“No, nothing like that,” she rushed out, and he relaxed a small fraction.
“Then what?”
“Kit, you should leave. My mother will return any minute. She’s quite anxious to make the train for New York.”
“Not until you tell me the truth.”
“Fine.” She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. “I’m not like you. I cannot do what we are doing and not feel anything. It’s becoming . . . challenging.”
Oh. He slumped against the back of the couch. That was unexpected. “I am not the kind of man who is interested in settling down.”
“I know, which is why I think it’s best if we leave our bargain here. You’ve helped me tremendously and I am grateful. You are funny and smart, and you gave me more confidence than I ever thought possible. Please do not think this is about you. This is about me.”
“And finding a husband?”
“Yes. I must take that endeavor seriously.”
He opened his mouth but promptly closed it. There wasn’t anything else to be said. To argue was churlish and selfish, and it would not change the circumstances. As much as he wanted to bed Alice, he couldn’t have her. She would marry and live a happy—albeit boring—scoundrel-free life. As was fitting. After all, it was the entire reason she’d sought him out in the first place.
He just hadn’t expected to like her this much, damn it.
Standing, he thrust his hands in his trouser pockets. “I understand. I wish you safe travels and best of luck in your search.”
“Thank you, Kit. I know your supper club will be a smashing success.”
“In no small part due to your assistance. I’m very grateful.”
She bit her lip and cast a furtive glance at the doorway. “They have started to leave. You’d best disappear before—”
“Alice!” Mrs. Lusk rushed into the room, her glare cutting Kit down where he stood before turning on her daughter. “I leave you for five minutes and you entertain this scoundrel alone like a—”
“Madam,” Kit snapped. “Seeing as how Miss Lusk is unable to walk unassisted, I thought I might help her into your carriage.”
The older woman frowned. “We can make do, Mr. Ward. You may run along. We don’t need yo
ur kind of help.”
“Mama, please. You are being unkind. Would you rather a footman assisted me?”
Kit could tell Mrs. Lusk didn’t like that suggestion, either. He decided to use reason to press his case. “Seeing as how I already carried her yesterday, no one is likely to notice.”
“Fine,” Mrs. Lusk said, reluctantly, after a long beat. “But we had better hurry. I do not want to miss our train.” Spinning, she marched off in the direction of the front door.
He knelt by the sofa and slid his arms under Alice, taking care not to jostle her ankle, then stood. She wrapped her arms around his neck, not even pretending to put space between them, as he crossed the floor. “If you change your mind or need me for any reason, I’m easy to find,” he said softly.
“Thank you, Kit. For that and everything else. This has been the best four days of my life.”
His chest tightened and for once words deserted him.
Chapter Fourteen
The Duke of Lockwood looked lonely.
Sitting in the box her father had rented at the Metropolitan Opera House, Alice stared at the handsome duke, whose attention seemed miles away from the action on the stage. He hardly moved, his gaze fixed forward, but there was something about the set of his shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes, that suggested desolation. A gloominess perhaps more pronounced because of the jocularity in the seats around him.
The performance was a comedy, but the duke hadn’t smiled once.
The scandal at the Websters’ Newport chateau had died down somewhat in the past two weeks’ time. Maddie and Harrison were married and Lockwood was now back out in society. In a month or so, it would seem as if the whole thing never happened.
Indeed, why was he so glum? Had he loved Maddie very much? It hadn’t appeared that way in Newport, but then she’d been distracted, hadn’t she? Nearly every waking thought had been consumed by Kit, so perhaps she’d missed quite a bit during those four days.
Kit still inhabited many of her thoughts, unfortunately. It was quite hard to concentrate when she kept reliving their conversations and interactions, the games and the kisses. She lost count of the number of times she had reached for a pen and paper to write to him since returning to New York, even locating his address, a town house on East Seventy-Fourth Street. Thank goodness common sense had prevailed, however, before she contacted him.
