by Alice Kirks
She saw something in his eyes – dark and inscrutable – some kind of longing. She felt it call to the longing deep within her, and her heart thumped as her cheeks flushed, and she felt her palms grow damp and slippery.
“Excuse me,” she murmured to Henriette, who was sitting opposite her reading a book. “I think I must take the air.”
She walked next door into the anteroom. It was dark, no lamps being lit, and the curtains not yet draw. She tiptoed across and leaned on the windowsill.
What is going on?
Alone, in the silence, with the dark night beyond the windows, she could let herself think about the events of the day. She hadn’t had much time to think about how she felt or the situation between her and the Duke. She didn’t really even understand her own feelings.
I like him. I want to be near him. I enjoy his discussions.
She blushed. She liked him a great deal. He was quick-thinking, serious but with a flash of humor that made him extremely attractive.
Alexandra! That’s shocking!
She smiled. She wasn’t too young to recognize the feeling, or to fail to admit to herself what it was. She just had no way of realizing it.
He was a duke.
She was his servant.
She was turning to go out of the room when she saw a shadow fall across the bright bar of light from the hallway. She tensed.
“Miss?”
It was the Duke. He had been walking past in the hallway and caught sight of her coming out of the room. She stepped back. He frowned.
“You are feeling unwell?” he asked. “I had meant to ask you yesterday if aught had disturbed you.”
“No,” she said hastily. “Why?”
“No matter,” he said, frown creasing his brow. This close, she could see that his eyes were almost black. “I just wondered if there was anything we could do. I understand that being in this new situation must be trying.”
“Um, no,” she said quickly. “Not at all. I mean, I like working here, and I am especially fond of your sister. I am grateful to be employed here.”
“I know,” he nodded. “You are fond of my sister, and I thank you. Her wellbeing had suffered, alone with me. I am grateful to you, for bringing a woman’s presence into her life. She had sore need of such companionship.”
“Thank you,” Alexandra murmured.
She looked up at him and he looked down awkwardly, and suddenly it seemed as if it were only the two of them in the room, and he was very close, his eyes on hers, his hand so close she could feel the warmth.
“Excuse me,” he said. He coughed. “I should go back. Will you return to the drawing-room?”
“Yes,” Alexandra said.
She tensed as he turned stiffly in the doorway, avoiding her gaze, and she walked out, hurrying to the drawing-room. She went in and sat down, looking around in the bright light of the lamps.
What just happened?
Her mind couldn’t stretch to it. In the doorway, she had felt as if the Duke…
As if we might kiss.
She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the activity in the room. Arabella was still at the piano, this time joined by Amelia and Henriette. Albert stood by the window, reading a book, while Frank stood at the piano turning pages. Arabella looked up at him every now and again, eyes sparking.
Alexandra smiled to herself. What could she do, when she was feeling much the same way, and could identify with the young lady, at last?
She watched them, listening to the sweet music they played; a Mozart piece arranged for two people. Amelia was instructing them, perched beside Arabella and telling both pianists what to do, to the amusement of all three.
She heard a footfall and looked up as the Duke strode in. He went to sit back at his old place, lifting the book and starting to read. But every so often, his eyes strayed to her. She saw him looking and smiled.
The party in the drawing-room lasted a while, but then, when the younger guests were starting to yawn, and a coach arrived to take Amelia home, they all stood.
“Thank you for coming,” the Duke greeted the young members of the party, who were leaving. “It has been a very diverting evening.”
“Yes!” Arabella said. “Goodnight, Amelia! It has been so lovely to see you.”
Alexandra knew it was wrong, but she allowed Arabella a few moments with Frank alone in the hallway. She could not deny her a chance to talk to him. When he had gone, Arabella came back up, eyes damp.
“I will go upstairs.”
“Yes, Arabella,” Alexandra murmured. “Can I come too?”
“I’ll be fine,” she sniffed, and went upstairs alone.
Alexandra turned to the Duke. He was alone in the drawing-room, Albert having left after Henriette. He stood when she came in.
“It was a lovely party,” she said to him softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“It was a good evening, yes,” he murmured. “I was glad you were here.”
Alexandra held his gaze, feeling her cheeks burn. Usually, he thanked her for her care of Arabella, or some such thing. This time, he had thanked her, as if she were a guest, for being there. She curtseyed, aware of her pulse thumping in her chest.
“Thank you, your Grace.”
“Goodnight, Miss Alexandra,” he murmured.
“Goodnight, your Grace,” she said.
She turned and rushed back to her room, heart thumping. Her cheeks were red, her palms were sweaty, and she felt as if her soul were soaring above her body, and she felt that her cheeks would hurt if she grinned anymore. Laughing, she sat down.
What was she thinking?
She was falling in love with the Duke, and she should be worried. She should be doing everything to fight against it. But she wasn’t. She was happy.
She went to the nightstand and washed her face. There were too many things to think about – Arabella, her position, her family, her father. She wasn’t going to worry about any of them, or at least not now.
Now, all she wanted to do was let herself be happy.
Chapter 11
Alexandra tiptoed down the stairs. She was still feeling lightheaded and distracted from the previous evening. Thoughts of the Duke were on her mind – his profile in the doorway as he turned to look at her, the way his voice sounded when he spoke. She grinned to herself and shook her head.
Stop it! You know you can’t let yourself feel like this.
She took a breath. Unfortunately, she knew that was true. She couldn’t let herself indulge the feelings she had for Lord Blakeley. He didn’t even know who she was!
And nobody will. Not for the time that I have to be in hiding.
Alexandra closed her eyes a moment, wishing that she knew how long she would be in hiding for. There was no way of knowing that. She had no way of returning to her home: that much was certain. Now that she had fled, going back would be unthinkable. Dangerous, even; for who knew how the man she was meant to marry would react?
Shuddering, she went into the kitchen.
“Tea’s in the pot.”
Alexandra tried not to register surprise at the perfunctory greeting from the cook. She was used to the staff being rude to her, and they had recently divided into two camps – those who were determinedly friendly, and those who were determinedly not. All the same, she hadn’t thought she deserved being ignored. It hurt to always come down here to sullen silence and an empty table.
“There’s toast on the table.”
“Thank you,” she said. They might be rude, but she would not do likewise.
She poured herself tea, helped herself to toast, though everyone else had already eaten and left the kitchen to go to work. Then she went back up to the schoolroom.
“Don’t mind them,” a voice said from the doorway. Alexandra looked up. Maddy was there, one of the other household staff she had befriended. Alexandra cleared her throat.
“It’s all right,” she said, surprised by how touched she felt. “I’m used to it.”
&nb
sp; Maddy walked in, looking awkwardly at the bookshelves and then at Alexandra, who gestured to the two seats in front of the desk.
“Sit down. Nobody else is going to come in.”
Maddy grinned and drew out one of the chairs. She leaned on the desk awkwardly, looking at Alexandra.
“Sorry for how we all keep distance,” she murmured, dark eyes hesitant.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” Alexandra said gently. “Some of you have been kind.” The Duke, mostly, and his family – they had accepted her where the staff, excluding two or three maids had not.
“Yes, but, well…I reckon it’s on account of your learning, Miss. Most people can’t read and write. It makes you different.”
“Then it’s not my on account of reading and writing,” Alexandra shrugged. “It’s because they’re afraid of what is different.”
Maddy looked at her, eyes wide. “You’re right, Miss.”
Alexandra put her head on one side.
“I don’t know if I am or not,” she said gently. “But I do know that those of you who have been friendly and kind mean more than all those who have been cruel.”
Maddy beamed. “Thank you.”
Alexandra talked to her a while longer as she drank her tea – mostly about the house and the work, and a little about the other staff – and then as other servants started to walk past, Maddy stood.
“Excuse me, Miss,” she said. “I reckon the Duke is taking breakfast, and I should go before someone catches me in here!” She grinned, and Alexandra nodded.
“You’re welcome in here any time, Maddy.”
They shared a smile and Alexandra reached for her book, feeling a little cheered. The clock on the mantelpiece showed that it was eight o’ clock. She nodded to herself – it was the time the Duke usually took breakfast. At nine, Arabella would be coming in for their lesson. Alexandra had selected poetry as the topic of the day. She would let Arabella guide the choice of literature – the books were all brought down to one long table, where she could choose one for study.
Alexandra read through a volume of Shelley while she waited. It was a new book, and she could still smell the ink. She reveled in the time to herself, and it was half-past eight when she next looked up from buried deep in the evocative lines of an ode.
“Only half an hour more.”
She carried on reading, and then reached for a sheet of paper, making notes for the lesson. She started to get concerned when it was five minutes past nine and she’d seen no hint of Arabella.
“Odd. She’s usually early. Especially for poetry.”
It was their favorite topic; one they spent a great deal of time on.
She waited another five minutes, then went softly out of the room. She walked past the breakfast-room, and, though the breakfast was laid out, the Duke sat reading the Gazette without partaking of the meal. She went to the drawing-room, but Arabella wasn’t there.
She walked back past the breakfast-room, confirming that the second place was still laid, the cup and saucer unused.
“Is Arabella not taking breakfast?” she asked the Duke, feeling dreadfully self-conscious. She had no place in the breakfast-room without Arabella!
“Oh!” He looked up, and she thought his dark eyes narrowed somewhat. “I thought she was with you. She hasn’t come down to breakfast yet.”
“Oh?” Alexandra frowned. “She didn’t say she was feeling ill?”
“She didn’t say,” the Duke said. She saw him tense and she was sure he was worried. She remembered how fiercely he had guarded his sister in the past and felt guilty for distressing him at once.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” she murmured. “I will go and see if she has gone back to the schoolroom.”
She tiptoed back to the schoolroom, and then, unable to concentrate, went straight upstairs. Brenna would let her in if Arabella were staying in bed with illness. Or at the very least, she would be able to inform her as to her state of health!
“Brenna?” she called, knocking on the bedroom door. “Brenna?”
She heard nothing.
She turned away. That, in itself, was no cause for alarm, she told herself firmly. She had no reason to expect Brenna or Arabella to be inside. They could be anywhere in the house! She would look downstairs in the dining-room or the library, the gallery…she could be anywhere.
“I thought you were in the schoolroom,” Brenna said as she walked around the corner. Alexandra looked up, startled.
“I thought you were downstairs,” she said. “Were you looking for me?”
“No,” Brenna said, frowning. “But where is Arabella?”
“I thought the same thing,” Alexandra said, heart thumping. “I thought maybe you were discussing renovating the dining-room.”
“No, Miss. I reckoned she would be in the schoolroom. I’ve not seen her all morning.”
Alexandra swallowed hard.
“Not all morning?” she murmured. Surely Arabella must be somewhere!
“Not since I went in there just before eight o’ clock,” Brenna said. “The bed was unmade, and nothing seemed out of place, so I reckoned she’d risen early and gone to the schoolroom.”
“She didn’t come in,” Alexandra said.
They looked at each other. Brenna cleared her throat.
“We need to find her. I’ll go downstairs.”
“We ought to inform his Grace,” Alexandra said at once. Brenna’s eyes widened.
“I don’t want to be doing that, Miss,” Brenna said. “He’ll be so angry with us…”
Alexandra nodded. It was their fault. Hers, more even than Brenna’s. She was just a maid. Alexandra was her chaperone. She was supposed to keep her safe.
“I’ll tell him,” she said. Her heart thumped. She absolutely did not feel ready for this.
“I’ll come with you,” Brenna said.
Alexandra felt her legs wobble and nodded. She desperately needed support. “Thank you.”
Hurrying down the hallway, Alexandra felt as if she was walking into terrible danger. Not because she thought the Duke would actually harm her, but because she didn’t want to have to disappoint him.
He will never countenance having me on the staff, not if I cannot keep a watchful eye on his sister!
And if she lost this job, she would be on the street. She would have no safe place to hide from the men who were following her. Swallowing hard, she took Brenna’s hand and together they went to the breakfast-room.
“Arabella is gone, your Grace,” Alexandra said. She made herself look at him. “I…we do not know where she is. We cannot find her.”
Brenna nodded, still not letting go of Alexandra’s hand.
The reaction was worse than Alexandra anticipated.
“What?”
His voice was quiet, but his expression was stormy. Alexandra felt her spirit waver and she took a step back.
