An Affair Downstairs

by Sherri Browning

  “Here you are, darling.”

  She took the cup as he offered it, but she only pretended to sip. “Very good. Thank you. Come. Sit by me. I’m sorry I’ve been so confused. I don’t know what to say but that maybe I’m still not completely well after all.”

  “Maybe you’re not. You have been…challenging.”

  “Sophia talked to me this afternoon, and she made some very good points. I don’t want to bring scandal to my sister. She has been so very good to me. I don’t love you, Harry. I will be completely honest. But I think you’re the best choice for me, and in time perhaps…”

  “Love might bloom, as long as you’re willing to give us a chance. Are you saying you will?”

  She paused to pretend to take a long sip, and then she began to nod, and nod. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  “Darling, thank you. You won’t be sorry. Now I’m going to fetch a cup of wassail for myself before the reading starts.” He started to get up. Agatha gestured from behind him to indicate his inside coat pocket.

  “A moment. Perhaps we could seal our commitment with a kiss?”

  He sighed and leaned in. “It would be my pleasure.”

  Instead of the quick peck he offered, Alice slipped her fingers inside his coat and spread them along his rib cage to urge him closer. She ran her tongue along his lips until he opened his mouth to her and indulged in a deeper, more intense kiss, the kind of kiss she would prefer to reserve for Logan.

  “Goodness,” he said, drawing back. “You’ve never kissed me like that before.”

  “There are a lot of things we have yet to do together, Harry. I’m looking forward to it.”

  In his shock at the intensity of her kiss, he hadn’t even noticed that she’d reached inside his pocket and pulled out the small vial. She hid it in her hands, poured her tea into the potted plant nearby, left her cup on the table, and excused herself a moment. Agatha met her in the hall.

  “Laudanum,” she said, holding out the bottle. “Can you believe it? I suspected but…to have my suspicions confirmed still leaves me reeling.”

  “I told you he was a wizard.” Agatha nodded. “But instead of a spell, he was using his potion to control you.”

  “More like poison. He could have killed me. I believe it’s all too easy to overdo it with laudanum. And so addictive. It’s a wonder I managed to clear my head at all. I spilled that last cup of tea he served me on the day I came back to my senses, and I don’t recall exactly but I think I failed to drink the one previous to that, too. I recovered by happy accident. If I hadn’t gotten out of the house when I did, I dread to think what would have become of me.”

  “He must really know what he’s doing. It wouldn’t have served him to kill you before the wedding. My poor little bird.” Agatha patted her cheeks. “I knew I never liked him.”

  “Well, we must go on to the next part of the plan.” She handed Agatha the bottle. “You know what to do.” They’d discussed it. Agatha would slip a drop into Ralston’s cup. Once he started to show some effects, she would bump into him again, and slip the bottle to the floor as if it had fallen out of his coat, then loudly call attention to it. His embarrassment would be so great that they would be rid of him.

  Agatha winked and went back to the festivities. Alice waited a moment before rejoining them.

  “Ah, there you are.” Ralston approached her at once. “I went to fill my cup and came back to find you gone. I wondered where you’d run off to.” His gaze shot to Logan across the room in hearty conversation with Gabriel, Marcus, and Lord Holcomb. Obviously, he’d made sure that wherever she had slipped off to, Logan hadn’t followed.

  “My head.” She pressed a hand to her temple. “The buzzing has come back and I feel a tad lightheaded.”

  “Shall I call the doctor?” His eyes narrowed with concern.

  She shook her head. “I hate to worry Sophia. Is it possible that my symptoms have returned? So long after the initial injury?”

  “It’s possible. The doctor warned of just such a thing,” he lied cleverly. She doubted it to be at all likely, not after a week of feeling perfectly well. “Don’t run off to bed just yet. Sit here. I know that being in the dark doesn’t help to quiet the buzzing once it begins.”

  “You know me so well. How could I have doubted you? I need you, Ralston.”

  He kissed her forehead. “And I, you. Would you like more tea before Uncle begins his reading?”

  More tea? Perhaps he was trying to kill her. “No, thank you. I’m going to try to regain my bearings in time for Mass. But your cup is empty. Go on and have more wassail. It’s such a treat this time of year.”

  “It is delicious. I’ll be right back at your side in a moment.”

  She nodded, and kept on nodding, nodding, as if she could not stop. He smiled and walked off toward Agatha, who hovered by the punch bowl.

  “Lord Ralston,” Agatha said. “Here, let me pour you a cup…”

  Ah, they had him right where they wanted him. Alice wanted to choke him with her bare hands. How dare he think to medicate her against her will in her own home! She kept nodding as he came back across the room, thinking the whole time how she would be rid of him soon. Not soon enough!

  Alice watched him from the corner of her eye as Lord Holcomb began to read.

  “‘Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that…’”

  By the appearance of the first ghost, Lady Holcomb had got up and began to pace. “I can’t sit still,” she said. “Christmas is so thrilling. But read on, dear, I’m sorry to interrupt. I’m just going to stare at the tree a bit. Such pretty baubles.”

  “I like baubles.” Captain Thorne joined her. “Let me tell you the history of some of the family ornaments. Carry on, old chap. I don’t mean to interrupt.”

  Lord Holcomb cleared his throat and went back to the story. Within minutes of reading, he began to flub the lines, and then to laugh. “Perhaps I am old. I should be checked to see if I need spectacles. The lines are all wiggly. Someone will have to take over.”

  “Let’s not read, then. We all know the story. Ghost of Christmas Present. Ghost of Christmas Past. Ghost of Christmas Future. Scrooge is dead. No, he’s alive and reformed. Presents for everyone! They tuck into the roast goose. ‘God bless us, every one!’ End of story. Darling, could you play us some carols on the piano?” Sophia turned to Lord Averford.

  Alice had begun to worry that Ralston was immune to the effects, until he started nodding beside her. Nodding, nodding. “Are you all right, Lord Ralston?”

  “Christmas carols,” he said, his voice a little drowsy. “I love them.”

  She smiled. “Well, you relax, then. Can I get you a pillow?”

  He nodded, even as he said no. “No. I need to sit up. I have to clear my head.”

  “Oh, dear.” She batted her lashes. “Are you feeling a little foggy?”

  He gripped her wrist, apparently not that far gone. “What have you done?”

  “Me?” She pulled away. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Unable to hold back any longer, Logan approached. “Unhand her. What’s going on, Alice?”

  In the corner near the tree, Marcus and Lady Holcomb began to waltz.

  “Everybody dance!” Marcus declared. “’Tis the season.”

  Lady Holcomb began to hum loudly.

  “What the devil is going on here?” Lord Averford, clearly unaffected, stood up at the piano bench.

  “I wondered the same thing,” Eve said, making her way to cut in on the dancing.

  Alice looked at Agatha. Agatha took a seat next to Ralston on the couch and all too obviously bumped him. “Oh, my apologies.”

  “Your apologies?” Ralston turned slowly to look at her.

  With everyone’s gaze on her, Agatha none too subtly tossed the bottle to the center of the floor and exclaimed, “Laudanum, Lord Ralston. Poor thing. Do you have a cough?”

  Sophia was the one to head for the center of the room and pick it up
. “Laudanum? Where did you get this, Agatha?”

  Agatha, never one for secrets that did not hail from the spirit world, stood and cleared her throat, cueing Alice that she was about to confess all. Alice should have known not to give her aunt too much responsibility. She buried her head in her hand, prepared for the outburst. Lending support, Logan slipped an arm around Alice’s waist.

  “I’m sorry, Alice,” Agatha began. “I botched things. The laudanum came from Lord Ralston’s coat pocket. Alice and I hatched a scheme. We suspected Ralston of drugging her.”

  “With laudanum?” Lord Holcomb’s eyes widened.

  “In our efforts to prove it, I managed to get the laudanum from Ralston’s pocket and slip it into the punch bowl.”

  “Into the wassail?” Alice exclaimed. “No wonder everyone’s gone mad. Agatha, you were only supposed to slip it into Ralston’s drink.”

  “I know.” Agatha waved her hands. “But it was too much trouble to single his out without calling his attention. I put a few drops in the bowl. Just a few. It shouldn’t last long.”

  Sophia rang for Finch, who appeared at once as if he and perhaps some of the staff had been just behind the doors marveling at the scene. “Get Dr. Pederson on the line at once. Explain that we’ve had a situation with laudanum…”

  “I’ve been following the events,” Finch confessed with a sly smile. “I’ll telephone at once.” He grimaced slightly upon mention of the telephone, but events like these might help to convince him that such modern conveniences were perhaps a necessary evil.

  “Oh dear,” Sophia said. “Who has had the wassail?”

  Alice breathed a sigh of relief that Lord Averford and Logan had rejected the wassail in favor of single malt whiskey. Sophia and Eve Thorne hadn’t touched it. Alice and Agatha had obviously abstained. That left only Marcus, who could not resist anything with apples, Lord and Lady Holcomb, and fortunately Lord Ralston affected.

  Eve took immediate charge of Marcus and Lady Holcomb, who had possibly had a little more of the tainted wassail than anyone else. She urged them to stop dancing and to sit for a moment. Once she pried them apart, she had to lead them carefully over to their seats as they stumbled a bit on their own feet. At least, they were both laughing.

  “You.” Sophia approached Lord Ralston, her foot tapping under her skirts. “I invited you into our home. I welcomed your help in caring for Alice. And this is how you repay me? By drugging my poor sister out of her mind?”

  Alice watched with growing joy as her sister finally accepted the truth and defended her.

  “No one can prove that it’s my laudanum. Agatha never liked me. It’s a plot!”

  “That part is true,” Agatha said, quite pleased with herself. “I’ve never liked you.”

  Finch returned to the room with two footmen bearing pots of coffee and more cups. “Dr. Pederson doesn’t believe anyone consumed enough to be in serious condition. He recommended plenty of strong, hot coffee and said to call him back if they showed no signs of improvement.”

  “Coffee it is,” Lord Averford said, taking cups from the footmen and helping to pass them around.

  “I’ll expect an explanation from you after you’ve had your coffee, Lord Ralston.” Sophia approached Alice to offer a supportive embrace and then turned back to face Ralston. “And it had better be good.”

  Twenty-three

  “Please know how truly sorry I am,” Lord Ralston said for what Logan believed was the fourth time. Or more. He had lost count. “I truly meant well. Dr. Pederson had suggested it at first as a way to lessen any discomfort Alice had while recovering. I thought you might object, Sophia, or dislike the idea of medication, and I hated to worry you more. You were so distraught.”

  “At first, yes.” Sophia nodded. “But later? I should have been consulted.”

  “And that was truly my only crime, not consulting you.” Ralston, done with his coffee, put down the cup and stood. “Alice, it was all done out of love. You must believe me. I hated to see you suffering so. I would have turned to any balm to ease your pain.”

  Alice squeezed Logan’s hand. He wasn’t sure if she did it to borrow his strength or to keep him calm so that he didn’t attack Ralston. Logan’s other hand, curled into a fist, had flexed and tensed on a regular basis as he warred within himself. He wanted so badly to hit Lord Ralston for what he’d done. Drugging Alice? Against her will and without her sister’s knowledge? No excuse was good enough. But he knew that he wouldn’t help matters by flying off in a fury, letting violence speak for him.

  “But I was recovering.” Alice managed to argue without becoming strident. “Recovered, in fact. You medicating me only prolonged my agony. You had to have known as much. I don’t believe you did anything out of love for me, only for your own selfish interests.”

  “I knew no such thing.” Ralston flew to Alice’s side and dropped to one knee before her. “And if I am selfish in trying to win your love, so be it. I need you, Alice.”

  Perhaps now, Logan thought. If he dragged the man outside and beat him now, would everyone forgive him? But he stood his ground. Alice would be apoplectic if he took her right to address her tormentor away from her. He remained calm for Alice.

  “You must understand,” Ralston went on with his begging. “You were feeble and confused. How it tugged at my heartstrings to see you so vulnerable!”

  Alice scoffed. “It tugged at something in you, but I doubt it was your heartstrings, Lord Ralston. Perhaps it was your sense of malice.”

  “There was no malice intended!” Ralston raised his voice in his own defense. “Perhaps, yes, I welcomed the fact that the laudanum made you agreeable. Secretly, I feared that you would turn me down. I only wanted so desperately for you to let me love you, Alice.”

  “That kind of love is rare to find,” Sophia said, obviously touched by the scoundrel’s words. “He did it all for love, Alice. Though that’s certainly no way to show it. Shame on you, Lord Ralston. How can you live with yourself?”

  Logan shook his head. Female sentimentality. Thank goodness Alice had more sense than her sister.

  “Bollocks,” Alice said from between clenched teeth. “You wanted something, Lord Ralston. Though I still can’t be certain what it was.”

  How Logan loved her! What other woman would show such nerve, such spirit! He wanted to lift her in his arms and carry her off, to make love to her for hours at a time. Alice. His Alice. He looked at her, her dark red hair falling slightly from her chignon, threatening to spill down those beautiful white shoulders.

  “By God, you amaze me,” Logan said before he could stop himself. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. She met his gaze, a smile in her eyes. Looking at her, he knew that she had every idea what had driven Ralston to act, but she was holding back for some reason. To protect someone else? Sophia. She would only be so concerned for her sister or her aunt. And he doubted Ralston had any designs on Agatha. “Do you really mean to forgive this man?”

  “It’s Christmas.” Alice shrugged. “All that is behind us now. I can afford to be forgiving, provided…” She paused to slip a diamond ring from her finger. The ring Ralston had given her. “You take this back, Lord Ralston, and never speak of our engagement again. I don’t have any intention of marrying a man who would medicate me without my knowledge or permission. And go away. Go away, all of you. I never want to see you again, Lord Ralston. I should have the constable come and take you away, but I won’t. In the spirit of Christmas.”

  “You’re free, Harry!” Lady Holcomb shouted, taking a little longer to get over her intoxication. “I can’t wait to tell Matilda Furbish that you’re no longer engaged.”

  “I’m sure she will be very happy to have you, Lord Ralston,” Sophia said. “I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.”

  “That’s it, then? You’re really willing to let me go, Alice?” Even after all that was revealed, Ralston was surprised? Perhaps he was the addlepated one after all. Logan realized that perhaps he c
ould let the man off without beating his brains out. Ralston needed every bit of the mind that he possessed, which apparently wasn’t much. “After all the tender declarations of love between us?”

  “After all that. Imagine.” Alice shook her head in wonder, apparently as perplexed by the man’s audacity or lack of understanding as Logan was. “I’m willing to let you go. Go!”

  Lord Averford looked at the clock. “It’s time we get ready for Mass. Are we done here, or do I need to send for the constable? I’m willing to press charges if Alice isn’t.”

  “That won’t be necessary, darling.” Sophia took Gabriel’s arm. “It’s Christmas. Let’s just agree that Lord Ralston and Lord and Lady Holcomb will be on their way after Mass. If anyone needs the Lord’s forgiveness tonight, it’s Lord Ralston.”

  Lord Averford seemed very disappointed. “I know. But what a lovely gift it would be for me to hand Lord Ralston over for imprisonment.”

  “Gabriel!” Sophia had the nerve to sound shocked.

  “Well, it’s criminal, isn’t it? The man in our home, slipping poison into Alice’s drinks while the rest of were unaware.”

  “Not poison,” Sophia said. “Medication. Unlawfully administered, perhaps.”

  “Laudanum is poison in the wrong hands, darling. It’s easy to overdose.”

  Marcus, coming back to his senses, agreed. “I’ve seen it. One of the many unfortunate things I had to witness at war, men becoming addicted to laudanum after sustaining injuries. Not only that, but one of them was killed when a bottle was left at his bedside and he accidentally, or perhaps on purpose, took too much.”

  “I’m fortunate to have learned my lesson without injuring anyone, much less the woman I love.” Ralston looked at Alice with large cow eyes, his attempt at remorse.

  For Logan, it was the last straw. Unable to hold back any longer, he drew back his fist and let it fly, pounding it into Lord Ralston’s perfect, stony jaw. Ralston reeled back, landing, fortunately for him, on Sophia’s delicate sofa.