by Lara Temple
‘I’m beginning to feel very much like a puppet on Cousin Harriet’s stage,’ Alyssa said once they had taken their places and Adam smiled down at her.
‘Never mind. It is giving her a great deal of pleasure and it is certainly doing us a great deal of good, so we have no reason to complain. Though I don’t know what I feel about being told I dance “prettily”.’
He watched appreciatively as her eyes lit up with laughter, accompanied by the appearance of her dimple. It was suddenly incomprehensible to him that he had been in this very place two weeks ago, dancing with her… So much had changed in such a short period of time. If someone had told him on that day that in short order he would be fearing for his life while becoming engaged to a very attractive young woman who was determined not to marry him, he would have thought them either mad or very creative.
‘Is that what it means to dance “prettily”?’ she asked as he pulled her nearer to him as they turned.
‘Come a little closer and we’ll show them what it means to dance beautifully, then,’ he said, brushing his thumb over the palm of her hand with the rhythm of the music. Her lips parted slightly and the gold in her eyes shimmered and captured him, muting the music, the voices around them, everything but the tantalising revelation of watching the wild girl unfurl in his arms. Then her eyelids fluttered down and she smiled at him again, but he could see she had tucked that part of herself in once more.
He knew he should be grateful one of them at least was being responsible, but contrarily he felt a flash of resentment and he forced himself to relax. It might be ridiculous that he was more on edge because of her than because someone out there wanted him dead, but that wasn’t her fault. He changed the subject.
‘Percy is looking rather worse for wear now that both Ginnie and your cousin have quit the field.’
Alyssa glanced over at Adam’s cousin who was dancing with the rather plain young daughter of a local landowner. He was as flamboyantly dressed as ever, but he looked pale and his usually light-hearted smile looked rigid and forced.
‘I still can’t quite believe he is behind all this, but I have tried and tried to think of another plausible solution and I can’t. Unless it is just some madman who hates all Delacorts?’
‘From your tone you seem to find that possibility reasonable.’
She dimpled.
‘Your predecessors did have a tendency to put up people’s backs and, as you know, they were…deficient landlords.’
‘That is putting it mildly, but mismanagement is rarely a cause for murder.’
‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘If it were, you wouldn’t be at risk.’
‘Goodness, an actual compliment. But not quite merited. It was no secret I never planned on staying at the Hall once I put it in order.’
She nodded, her gaze falling, and he wished he had kept silent. He had no idea whether he was trying to convince her or himself that he was still the same man he had been when he had come back to Mowbray. He honestly had no idea if he was, but he could not deal with it now. The question took him too far out on to thin ice.
She shook her head after a moment, following a train of thought of her own.
‘No, it doesn’t make sense. There must be more to it. It is either Percy or we are missing something.’
He pulled her towards him, amused and exasperated by her tenacity.
‘Since the music is winding down, the only thing we have missed so far is the chance to enjoy this dance. I’m beginning to think that my only redeeming quality is that there is someone trying to get rid of me.’
Her eyes rose to his, intent and serious.
‘You know that’s not true,’ she said, but her tone was almost scolding, like the voice she might have used with her siblings, and he felt disappointed. There was always something she held back, some private place from where she stood and surveyed the world. He told himself it was idiotic to expect her to allow him in. She owed him nothing. And it was best like that.
The orchestra played the last chords of the dance and they stepped apart. Then Nicholas came forward to lead Alyssa in the next dance and Adam moved away. Across the room Lady Nesbit beckoned to him imperiously and he sighed and headed in her direction. No doubt she had found him his next dance partner. Being reformed had distinct disadvantages.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Alyssa hurried along the High Street towards Milsom’s. Her heart was thudding and the letter she had just paid for and collected from the postmaster felt hot and harsh even through her gloves, but she had a superstitious fear of letting it out of her grasp. She resisted the urge to stop in the middle of the street and break open the seal. She needed someplace private and Milsom’s would do just fine if it wasn’t crowded. Mr Milsom was used to letting her sit at the back of the store and read his books ever since she was a little child and she knew he would not bother her.
She pushed open the door to the bookstore and glanced in. Mr Milsom was behind the counter, talking with a customer, and after a brief greeting both men returned to their gossip. She hurried to a window seat that overlooked the backyard of the store and opened the letter.
Her eyes flew over the sentences, then again, her ears filling with a peculiar rushing sound. She put the paper down on her lap, then picked it up again. Her body felt cold inside, hot outside, and she thought she might be sick. She wanted to crush the letter to her, squeal with joy and show it to everyone. She read it again, trying to see if she was wrong. Or perhaps reading too much into those simple words. To be sure it wasn’t utterly conclusive. And yet it was so much better than she had expected. Should she tell? No. Not until she was certain. She would have to go to London. Soon.
Very little could have distracted Alyssa from the contents of this particular letter, but the sight of Percy entering the store and heading towards her purposefully succeeded. She put the letter into her reticule, took a deep breath, stood up and waited.
Percy stopped in front of her, a bit too close for polite conversation, and she could smell brandy on his breath. She glanced over at Mr Milsom, but after greeting Percy he had once again returned to his conversation. Still, she felt comforted by his presence. Surely she was not in danger with Mr Milsom there.
‘Miss Drake. Good thing I found you. I want a word with you. I went by the cottage. Your girl said you would be in town. Thought you might be here.’
‘Did you, Mr Somerton? How can I help you?’ she asked and Percy rushed into speech, as if her cool request had been an invitation to indulge in full confidence.
‘Listen, I know you don’t like me. I mean I know you wanted Mary for Charlie, not that I think she’ll have him. He’s just a boy. But other than that… And it’s not that I particularly wanted to be married, but I’m not saying I wouldn’t have tried to make a go of it. I’m tired of Mowbray anyway, nothing ever seems to go right for me here. First Adam cuts me off, and then that whole thing with Mrs Eckley and Mary leaving…I don’t know why I’ve stayed so long except it’s been comfortable, you know, when I was at the Hall, and I suppose I’ve been too lazy to do anything else, but it’s no fun any more.’
He paused, his eyes moving from her face to the books behind her as if he had lost his train of thought and might find it on their leather spines.
‘The point is, now that you’re engaged to Adam, you could get him to do something for me. I’m not greedy, whatever he may think, but he has more money than he’ll ever know what to do with. He won’t want me here now he’s setting up to stay anyway. We never did get along. I mean he didn’t pick on me like Timothy and Ivor, except that one time he near broke my nose over Charlie, but I suppose that was my fault, in a way, but he always looked down on me. So will you talk to him? You’ve always been decent…’
Alyssa listened to this rambling monologue with growing confusion. She did not know what she had expected, but it wa
sn’t this. There seemed nothing to connect this slightly inebriated and petulant appeal with the cunning she had expected from someone who had patiently and violently schemed over several years to inch his way into the Delacort title.
‘What exactly would you like me to ask him?’ she questioned, trying to gain time to think.
‘What? Ask him if he’ll give me something to set me up away from here. Make a new start. I’d have to take Libbet with me, of course. He’s been with us for ever and frankly I don’t know what I’d do without him. Maybe the Americas. Boston. No, too strait-laced. Maybe South America. Or India. A fellow could do well there. Look at Adam. But I need some capital over and above my income to get myself started, you know.’
She was just about to answer when the door opened with more violence than was usual in Milsom’s establishment and Adam entered, barely acknowledging the startled greetings directed at him. His gaze scanned the store, settled on her and moved forward with a single-minded force that penetrated even Percy’s spirit-laden fog. He blinked and inched to the side, putting her between them nervously.
She raised her hand slightly, holding Adam’s gaze with hers, and he slowed perceptibly.
‘Hello, Adam,’ she said calmly. ‘I am glad you are here. Percy and I have just been talking and—’
‘I am aware of that,’ he interrupted. ‘I have just been by the cottage and Betsy informed me Percy came to look for you. And that she told him you were in town—’
‘Lovely,’ she intervened again, ignoring the nervous twitch of Percy’s hands, ‘since this involves you directly. Percy has expressed an interest in your advancing him some funds so he could go abroad somewhere and make a fresh start. He asked for my help in approaching you, since he knows you two did not get off on the right foot since your return to Mowbray.’
Adam’s expression did not change, but the look in his eyes was eloquent. She raised her brows slightly.
‘I rather think this is a good idea,’ she concluded simply.
Percy nodded, obviously encouraged by her calm support.
‘It doesn’t have to be a lot. A few ponies should do it. Enough to get a go somewhere else. You know, I could even go out to my mother’s family in Barbados. Lots of English there. Good people. Could cut a dash there on very little, I should think. Dare say my income would go further there than here.’
The rising enthusiasm in his voice had obviously finally caught Adam’s attention and Alyssa could almost see his thoughts and doubts mirror her own.
‘Barbados,’ Adam repeated slowly and Percy nodded, his light blue eyes filling with sudden hope.
‘My mother was from there. I remember her telling me about it when I was small. I might even like it.’
Adam stood considering him for a moment. Then he glanced around the store.
‘I see. I think it would be a good idea if we discussed this somewhere else. Perhaps you should come by the Hall this afternoon…’
Before Percy could reply, the door opened once more and Libbet stepped in. He nodded to Milsom and the man at the counter, then bowed towards Adam and Alyssa, greeting them with his usual calm deference before turning to Percy.
‘I have completed my errands, Mr Somerton. Will you be returning to Turl Street?’
Percy hesitated and turned to Adam.
‘I’ll come by this afternoon, then? Say around four?’
Adam nodded, watching Percy’s valet as the man stood near the door, his gaze neutral.
‘Four o’clock. Mr Beauvoir is away, so we can sit down and discuss your suggestion in private, but I think going to Barbados sounds like a very good idea.’
Once again Percy’s angelic face lit up with an engaging grin. He nodded and hurried out, as if afraid Adam might change his mind. Alyssa watched Libbet as he bowed once more before turning to follow Percy. For a moment his pale blue gaze met hers and she wondered what this dapper man would think about Percy’s plans. It seemed unfair he had no say in a matter that affected him so closely. But surely he could always resign his post if he did not wish to go with Percy. She was sure Adam would say she was being ridiculous worrying about him. Still…
‘Come. I want to talk to you,’ Adam said, taking her arm and leading her towards the door.
‘Good. So do I,’ she replied, nodding to the two men at the counter. ‘Good day, Mr Milsom, Mr Grantley.’
They stepped outside on to the High Street where Thunder stood patiently by the pavement, gazing off into the middle distance and ignoring a small boy who stood staring up at him in awe.
‘Hello, Johnny,’ Alyssa said and the boy turned to her.
‘Miss Drake! He’s so big! Roddy says he eats rocks!’
She laughed, realising suddenly how tense she’d been. Too much had happened in that short time at Milsom’s.
‘Roddy is very creative, but I think Thunder prefers apples. Right, Adam?’
‘He does, and carrots, but especially turnips.’
‘Turnips!’ The boy wrinkled his nose in disgust, eyeing Thunder suspiciously. He turned back to Adam. ‘You’re the scary lord.’
‘Am I?’ Adam asked politely.
‘Roddy said you slayed a giant and stole his gold, but you don’t look very scary.’
‘I’m glad to hear I don’t look very scary and I think Miss Drake was right when she said Roddy is very creative. And now we have to go, so make your bow, Thunder.’
The boy watched, delighted, as Thunder serenely bent one knee, moving back on his hind legs slightly to sink into an impressive bow.
‘I’ve got to tell Roddy!’ Johnny announced, dashing off down the street.
‘Who on earth is Roddy?’ Adam asked as he took Thunder’s reins and they began walking down the High Street.
‘Johnny’s very mischievous older brother. They are Mr Curtis’s sons. He’s the greengrocer and postmaster.’
‘Do you know everyone in Mowbray?’ Adam said curiously and she smiled.
‘Pretty much, I suppose. I’ve lived here all my life.’
‘So have Percy and Rowena and I sincerely doubt they know either of those boys.’
They turned off the High Street on to the narrower road leading in the direction of Drake Cottage and she shrugged.
‘They have other interests. Speaking of which, I admit I don’t know what to think about Percy. I know he was a little the worse for wear, but he really didn’t sound like a man who had either killed anyone or who was plotting to do so. He just sounded like a spoiled little boy who was tired and discouraged and wanted to get away.’
‘Alyssa, so help me…if you start telling me you feel sorry for him, I don’t know what I will do.’
‘I don’t feel sorry for him precisely. Well, a little. I feel worse for Libbet actually. It can’t be easy to have your future decided for you without having any say in the matter.’
‘I see you are already proceeding on the assumption that Percy is not involved in the attacks. And before you put Libbet on your ever expanding compassion list, remember he is so well respected a valet he could easily get employment elsewhere if he wished. No one is forcing him to stay with Percy.’
She frowned. ‘I suppose. But I think he will. He has been with the Somertons since he was a boy, I think, and you could see that he is obviously very attached to Percy, goodness knows why. But the main point is that either Percy is a supreme actor, much better even than your delectable Mrs Eckley, or what we saw was sincere. In which case he isn’t involved. Frankly I’ve never managed to convince myself he was behind all these years of murderous plotting. What on earth do we do now? This is almost as bad as it would be if Percy was guilty.’
‘May I remind you that Ginnie is not my Mrs Eckley, but very happily married to a good friend of mine? And as for Percy…’ He trailed off, looking ahead and obviously lost in tho
ught.
She looked up at the strong lines of his profile and realised suddenly, no longer with surprise but with familiar warmth, how natural she felt with him. More secure on the ground. As if she had been walking on a rope—like the fair people who came through every spring and set up in the field outside Faringdon—and he had come and helped her down to level earth.
She remembered the letter folded in her reticule. Whatever happened, she would not get back up on that rope. He turned to look at her and she smiled, full of gratitude and joy and even an acceptance of the hurt that was yet to come. She knew without a doubt that she would not have forgone knowing him and loving him simply to be spared pain even if she had had the choice.
He stopped walking all of a sudden, looking down at her. He seemed distant and almost stricken, as if a painful memory had occurred to him. She wished it was her right to reach out to him. To step forward and put her arms around him, give him comfort and feel the heat and strength of his body against hers.
‘As for Percy…?’ she prompted after a moment and he frowned and the intent expression faded.
‘Percy. Yes. It occurred to me… You might be right. Do you remember Percy’s father? You would have been quite young when he died.’
‘I do remember him. I think I was eight or nine. He was rather like old Lord Delacort, but much worse. Very dark and brutish. They lived in the old dower house, but Percy went to stay up at the Hall nursery with Timothy and Ivor to share a tutor with them when his mother died. I don’t think his father was very fond of him. People used to say it was because Percy looked so much like his mother. Apparently she was very lovely and angelic, but frail. I can’t imagine why she married someone like Somerton, but then she must have been very young and had very little say in the matter. I just think he was an extremely nasty individual and couldn’t be bothered with a young boy around the house. Why? What are you thinking?’
He shook his head again and turned away to stroke Thunder’s neck.
‘Nothing. Nothing that makes sense. None of this makes sense.’
