by Donna Hatch
Alicia rose unsteadily. “How bad is it?”
The housekeeper shook her head. “I have not been advised of his condition.”
Alicia forced herself to remain composed as she descended the stairs where she found Nicholas bidding the doctor good bye.
“Nicholas?”
He turned to her. “He’s awake. The servants are moving him to his room.”
After much fussing, they got Robert settled comfortably in his bed, and then Alicia was allowed to go in. Robert sat propped against the pillows on the sofa.
At Alicia’s entrance, he grinned, despite his pallor. He looked like he’d been brawling with his blackened eye and swollen lip. “Stop fretting, Lissie, I’m all right. Try and convince your stubborn husband that I can get out of bed now. He’s worse than a nursemaid.”
“Hush, you fool, you’ve had a bad fall.”
He let out a huff. “I didn’t fall, I was pushed.”
“What?” Truly alarmed, Alicia sat on the bed beside him and took his hand.
“I know I was. I was going downstairs. I thought I saw a shadow but it was pretty dark—”
“—and you were inebriated—”
“—and I felt a push on my back and the next thing I knew, I was falling.” He scowled. “I wasn’t that foxed.”
“Are you sure you didn’t just miss your step?”
“I’ve been up and down these stairs hundreds of times. I have never fallen down them before. And after I landed on the floor at the bottom of the stairs, I saw someone coming down after me.”
“Perhaps it was one of the servants.”
“No, but a servant scared him away before he got near enough to finish me off. Before I passed out, I heard a voice muttering something about returning to break my neck if the fall didn’t do it.”
Chills ran down her spine.
“The fall would have broken your neck if you hadn’t been so drunk,” Nicholas added as he thumped in. “The doctor said your body was relaxed enough to take the fall. Sober, it probably would have killed you.”
“I never thought I’d say that I am glad you’d been drinking.” Alicia tightened her grip on her cousin’s hand.
He looked at her through a blackened eye. “Armand always said I had a thick head.”
Alicia fought a sudden wave of dread as tears sprang to her eyes. “I can’t lose you, too, Robbie. You and Hannah are all I have left.”
Robert pulled her into a rough embrace. “I’m sorry, Lissie. I have let you down in many ways.”
Dobbs came in, tutting and clucking as she settled a tray on Robert’s lap. She returned a moment later with a tray for Alicia. “I thought you’d like to take your meal with him, my lady.”
“Thank you, that was thoughtful.” She had eaten breakfast so half-heartedly that she now ate with a ravenous appetite.
“May I bring you a tray too, my lord, or would you prefer to eat in your room as usual?”
“My room, if you please,” Nicholas replied. An odd quality to his voice raised Alicia’s eyes but he arose without further comment. There seemed to be an uncharacteristic heaviness to his step as he left the room and thumped down the corridor.
“He’s a good man, Lissie. He treats you well.”
“Yes. Much more than I imagined.” She hoped he didn’t notice the slow blush that crept to her cheeks at the memory of how well Nicholas had treated her last night. “Has he told you we suspect someone is trying to kill everyone in our family?”
Robert stilled, his eyes moving as he considered her words. “No, but I can see how you drew that conclusion.”
Alicia related all that she knew about the deaths of her family and her suspicions.
Robert dragged his fingers through his hair. “That explains it rather well.”
“Nicholas said he’d hire more help to stand guard. He’s developing a plan.”
“Alicia, I want you to go home with your husband.”
“No. I am not leaving you here alone.”
“I won’t risk you being hurt in this madman’s attempt to kill me.”
“He wants both of us dead.” She thought of Hannah, lying so ill in the next room. “Probably all of us.”
“He could have killed you when the carriage overturned. You aren’t a target.”
“I was hurt in the accident badly enough that he might have mistaken me for dead. Some highwaymen tried to stop us, but they didn’t want anything except me. And remember the adder bite? Then there was fire in my room only weeks ago.”
Robert began to swear and then caught himself as Alicia frowned at him. “Devil take it, Lissie, you might be killed.”
“Then let’s all leave. Perhaps we will be safer far from here. London. Or France. Nicholas said he’d take me in the spring. Maybe we could go now. Surely the killer won’t follow us there.”
Robert silently considered her words. “Let’s forget for a moment that I hate the idea of running away like a frightened child. Running will only prolong it. We need to stay here, somehow draw him out, and end this.”
Dread filled Alicia’s heart. “Do not offer yourself as bait for a trap.”
“I’ll speak with your husband and we’ll come up with something. You trust him, don’t you?”
Alicia answered without reservation. “Yes, I do trust him—completely.”
“Then trust us. We’ll come through this, all of us. Alive.” He leaned back and closed his swollen eyes.
Alicia rose. “I’ll let you rest.”
“I wish Cole Amesbury were still here,” Robert said quietly. “He’s the best shot I’ve ever seen. We’d be safer with him and his guns here with us.”
Alicia frowned. Her very new, very tender feelings for her husband might not flow as freely if Cole were here clouding her judgment.
“My lady, you have visitors,” said a footman from the doorway. “They are waiting for you in the parlor.”
“Thank you.” Alicia left Robert to rest.
She looked in on Hannah who lay propped on her pillows, gray and listless. “Has the doctor been in to check on you?”
Hannah nodded but her voice was barely a whisper. “He gave me an elixir.”
Concern grew into alarm. “Can I bring you anything?”
“Just tired. So tired.” Hannah closed her eyes.
Alicia hesitated in the doorway, helpless but aching to do something for Hannah.
Voices in the hall reminded her of her visitors. Hoping at least one of her visitors was Elizabeth, who might have somehow learned she was here, Alicia hurried to the parlor.
Before she reached it, Catherine’s unmistakable, throaty laugh mingled with a man’s voice that sounded familiar, but Alicia could not identify it. Steeling herself against the inevitable, Alicia put on what she hoped was a gracious smile and entered the parlor.
Catherine Sinclair, in all her glory, sat upon the new parlor sofa next to Captain Hawthorne.
Alicia approached them. “Captain Hawthorne, Miss Sinclair, what a pleasant surprise.”
Catherine’s gaze flicked over Alicia’s gown, probably noting every wrinkle despite the elegant cut and fabric.
Captain Hawthorne rose and bowed over her hand. “I hope we haven’t called at a bad time, Baroness.”
“Not at all, Captain Hawthorne. We did have some excitement this morning, though. My cousin Robert took a bad fall down the stairs.”
“Good gracious!” Catherine sounded truly concerned.
“Oh? Nothing broken, I hope?” asked Captain Hawthorne.
“No.”
Catherine fanned herself dramatically. “Thank the powers that be.”
They struggled through a few minutes of awkward and insincere conversation, Alicia wondering why they had come at all. She searched for a subject of interest.
Fortunately, Catherine filled in the silence. “And how is dear Hannah?”
Alicia cringed at the false tone of her voice. “She’s taken ill, I’m afraid.”
Catherine clucked.
“Poor dear. She’s rather frail, isn’t she?”
“She is delicate.”
“Have you heard Captain Hawthorne is about to receive another promotion? He’s so brave. And he has such a great head for business that he’s tripled the family fortune with his investments. Isn’t that right?”
“Something like that.” Captain Hawthorn’s dark eyes remained unreadable.
Alicia had never been so tempted in her life to snort like Cole’s Aunt Olivia. Catherine probably wasn’t even interested in Captain Hawthorne until she discovered he had money, the little fortune hunter! Where he had gotten it, she couldn’t imagine. Soldiers did not make a great deal of money, unless they plundered spoils of war. Although, he did come from a respectable family. In any case, Catherine did not deserve him. Captain Hawthorne had always been a polite, attractive man, and had much to offer anyone with the sense to see it, although his serious dark eyes tended to change into brooding.
An image of a laughing Cole came into her mind, a direct contrast to Captain Hawthorne. Cole was a confirmed flirt, but he made her laugh, something she hadn’t done much until she met him. Guiltily, she redirected her thoughts. She was married to a good man and she had just realized today that she loved him. Thoughts of Cole would only confuse her.
Alicia drew a breath. “Elizabeth Hancock told me in her last letter that your father passed on several weeks ago, Captain Hawthorne. Please allow me to offer my condolences.”
“Thank you.”
“With losing first your mother and then your father, you have suffered many losses over the last few years,” she added.
His dark eyes held hers. “As have you.”
Alicia nodded silently.
“You look surprisingly well, I must say,” Catherine said to Alicia. “I’d thought you’d be gaunt and sickly after months of marriage to a monster.”
Anger rose up and nearly choked her. “My husband is no monster. And I’ll thank you to cease making disparaging remarks about him.”
Taken aback, Catherine blinked. “Well.” She glanced at Captain Hawthorne. “Well. It takes all kinds. I don’t suppose we could meet him?”
Alicia would rather throw herself in front of a bullet than let Catherine sink her talons into Nicholas. “Didn’t you meet him at the wedding?” Alicia asked.
Catherine visibly recoiled. “No, not really, I only saw him from a distance.”
“I’m sorry to say he is not receiving callers. But I’ll give him your best wishes.”
Catherine visibly plotted her next attack but before she spoke, Captain Hawthorne arose, his dark eyes enigmatic. “Lady Amesbury, you have been very gracious. I hope to see you again.”
Alicia bade them good day and saw them out, wishing Elizabeth had come instead. Perhaps she should pay her a call. She wondered if Nicholas would want to accompany her. She went upstairs and found him inside his room, standing by a window, leaning on his cane.
At her approach, he turned. He stood stiffly, as if angry or upset. Was he annoyed at her intrusion?
“Am I disturbing you?” she asked hesitantly.
“Not at all. Come in.” He sounded tired. He indicated a nearby chair and waited until she sat before he took a seat opposite her.
She slipped back into formal speech, not wishing to displease him and break the newly formed bond between them. “My lord, I’d like to pay a visit to Elizabeth Hancock. She has been my dearest friend for many years and I’d love for you to become acquainted with her.”
He said nothing for so long that she began to doubt the wisdom of extending the invitation. Alicia twisted her hands in her lap. The clock on the mantle pound like a drum in the silence.
Quietly, he said, “So I am ‘my lord’ now again and not Nicholas?”
When her fingers began to hurt, she unclenched them and consciously smoothed her skirt. “I didn’t mean that.”
“You regret our union last night.”
Aghast, she stared at his faceless head. “No.”
Before she could elaborate, he hurried on tersely. “I do not wish to frighten your friend with my horrible appearance. Go.”
She nodded, fighting disappointment. This was the man who had no comment when she spent so much time with his cousin, and who even encouraged her to do so. He’d become distant again, despite the beauty of last night.
“But take at least three servants with you,” he cautioned. “I will make sure they are armed. I do not want our killer to strike while you are helpless. Or better yet, perhaps I will accompany you as part of your guard.”
She stilled. “Why?”
“Because I am not a complete invalid. I can shoot a gun!” Uncharacteristic anger laced his words.
Confusion and hurt swirled around her heart. “I know you aren’t an invalid. Why are you angry? What did I do?”
He let out his breath and turned his masked face away. “I am not angry at you, Alicia. I see things that aren’t there and then I’m foolishly surprised when I do not find them.”
She blinked. “I do not understand.”
Screams and shouting came from the corridors, interrupting their exchange. “The East Wing is on fire!”
Alicia jumped to her feet and ran out to the corridor, Nicholas right behind her. On the way, she found Monique.
“Monique, please go sit with Hannah. She’ll be frightened.”
The maid’s eyes were wide with fear. “Mais oui.” She disappeared into Hannah’s room.
The faint, but unmistakable smell of smoke assailed Alicia’s nose as she ran to join the servants forming a bucket brigade. Alicia passed more buckets than she could count as the servants battled the fire. It hadn’t spread to the main house yet.
“What are you doing out of bed?” she snapped at Robert who stood further up in line.
“Saving my house!” he shouted back.
“Daft fool,” she muttered.
Nicholas stood in line as well, barking orders like an admiral and passing buckets with the dexterity of a whole man. He may be scarred, but he was certainly no invalid.
Alicia’s back ached and her arms throbbed as she passed an endless row of buckets. Smoke stung her eyes and clogged her lungs. The efforts of the group prevented the fire from spreading, but it seemed they worked for hours before they extinguished the blaze.
“That’s done it!” someone called.
Coughing, Alicia set down her bucket and pressed her hands to the small of her back. The brigade dissolved, some milling around as if unable to determine what to do next. Others drew to the house to view the destruction. Great plumes of black smoke billowed high in the sky as the sunset spread its golden glow over the land.
Weary and aching, Alicia followed her husband and cousin to survey the damage. Ash and charred timber lay in confusing rubble. Fortunately, the structural integrity of the house had only been destroyed on the far end of one wing.
“Seal off the wing until repairs can be completed.” Robert’s voice betrayed his emotion.
Alicia picked her way on the muddy ground among the smoking wreckage, her heart empty and aching. A nearby tree she and Armand had climbed as children now stood charred and lifeless. She didn’t even have that to remind her of her twin anymore.
A blackened corner of a gilded picture frame that once framed a portrait of an ancestor stuck out of the rubble. Leaning over, she picked it up. The heat seared her fingers. She dropped it. It crumbled into dust when it hit the ground. Others like it that had once lined the corridor of the wing could not be found; probably buried in the rubble, a lost link to her family. She had lived here all her life. And now so much was gone.
Robert moved past, his expression as bereft as her heart. One eye in his battered face had swollen nearly shut, and soot smudged his cheeks and clothing. His unconcealed grief brought tears to her eyes. If only she had something to offer as consolation.
She wandered down what was left of the smoke- darkened corridor. The closer she drew to the main house, the less damage she saw
. Alicia pushed open the door to Maman’s room. Ash layered every surface, but the furniture remained whole. The satinwood vanity stood in its usual place. Alicia visualized Maman as she prepared for a ball or a dinner party, a smile of anticipation on her gentle, lovely face while her maid arranged her hair.
Alicia ran a hand over the wood, dusting off the ash. She pulled open a drawer and found several letters bound by a ribbon. Further back lay a small book. Maman’s journal. Alicia had known of the existence of both of the letters and the journal, and had attempted to read them after Maman’s death, but doing so only aggravated her pain. Perhaps now they’d be of comfort.
“The loss isn’t catastrophic,” Nicholas said from the doorway.
“No, but it hurts.”
The servants made exclamations of horror now that the danger had passed. As efficient as an army of ants, they sealed off the gaping hole from the elements.
“What you are holding?” Nicholas asked.
“My mother’s journal and some letters.”
He said nothing. Looking up at him, she wondered if she’d ever really know this enigmatic man. She touched his arm briefly as she passed him and went to check on Hannah in the family wing.
Monique sat by her bed. She arose silently at Alicia’s entrance and motioned her out the door, where they conferred in whispers.
“She grows worse, madame. Her breathing is not good. I think we should call the doctor again.”
Alarmed, Alicia tiptoed to the bed. Hannah had turned a deathly gray. Her chest indented as she drew in a rattling breath, as if it required great effort.
She slipped her hand into her sister’s. “Hannah?”
Only faint pressure came in reply.
With her heart in her throat, Alicia immediately sent for a doctor. Aching for Nicholas’s reassuring touch, she went in search of him. One of the servants said they thought they’d seen him near the burned wing. She steeled herself against the sight of such stark destruction, and the loss it would undoubtedly kindle, and made herself return there. Heavy, oiled cloth had been nailed over the charred opening, flapping ominously in the darkness.
Nicholas appeared behind her. She looked back and felt her expression soften. Strange how his appearance no longer frightened her but had the opposite effect now. He pulled her toward him slowly, as if giving her time to escape if she wished. When she went to him willingly, he folded her into him.
