Alissa relaxed. Apparently, there had been little, if any, discussion about this afternoon’s events. A brief glance at Leona confirmed her thoughts. The housekeeper’s expression showed a surprising trace of anxiety. But as Alissa watched, her usual stern mask quickly slipped into place. There’s still hope, Alissa decided.
Jared settled back in his leather chair. “Now, ladies, who would like to begin?”
Alissa opted to allow Leona to have the floor first. The housekeeper, wanting the last word, had decided the same with Alissa. Neither woman spoke.
“Come now.” Jared looked from one to the other. “You both were quite vocal this afternoon. Has something transpired of which I’m not aware? Have you become fast friends, perhaps?”
Leona sniffed loudly. Hearing it, Alissa stared at the housekeeper, then looked to Jared. “Mrs. Dugan and I are not fast friends, which is unfortunate, especially since I believe we all have a common goal in mind—Megan’s regaining her voice. Is that not so?”
His elbow propped on the chair’s arm, Jared leaned his chin against his thumb, his forefinger stroked his lower lip. “Obviously, it is,” he replied, wondering why she’d even broached the subject. Like an anxious barrister, she appeared ready to plead a case in which the outcome looked very dark. “That’s why I hired you, Miss Pembroke.”
Mesmerized, Alissa watched as Jared’s finger played along his lower lip, caressing its angular smoothness, and once again, her imagination took flight. Stop it! she demanded of her senses, but she found she couldn’t concentrate on anything but his handsome mouth. She blinked when she saw his lips move, then finally heard his words.
“Would you like to continue?”
“Y-yes, certainly,” she stammered. “As you suggested, Mr. Braxton, I asked Mrs. Dugan for several changes in Megan’s daily routine, one being her nap time.” Her voice grew stronger. “Mrs. Dugan has denied all my requests, including shortening her rest period.”
“I told you,” Leona defended sharply, “Megan must have her rest to remain awake during the supper hour.”
Alissa faced Leona. “Yes. So you’ve said. Yet when I have quietly looked in on her, I’ve found that she’s not napping but sitting by the window, staring through the pane like a caged bird desiring its freedom. Although it may not be intentional, you’ve made Hawkstone her prison.”
“You know nothing of the child,” Leona scoffed. “It’s a lie you tell.”
Alissa turned her gaze back to Jared. “I do not lie.”
His eyes steady on hers, he inclined his head an inch. “Continue.”
“Why, then, Mrs. Dugan, is she forever in this house?”
“I explained that.”
“You said she has no suitable clothing for play.”
Leona’s chin lifted. “That’s precisely what I said.”
“You also said she would soil the dresses she has.”
“Yes.”
“Then I suggest it is time you realize she is not an adult, nor is she a fashion plate. There is no need for her to be wrapped in frills, then made to sit in the corner because you’re afraid she’ll muss her finery.” Alissa’s gaze again met Jared’s. “She’s a small girl who needs her freedom so she can explore her surroundings and discover all there is to know. And that includes playing outside. Tell me what is wrong with Megan dirtying her hands with the rich earth as she fashions pies and cakes to serve at a pretend tea party with her dolls.” Alissa implored. “Why can’t she be allowed to frolic among the wildflowers that grow on the hillside or roll in the grass and smell its sweetness?”
“She’s not some farm tenant’s daughter!” Leona snapped, her forehead creased in anger, eyes shooting fire. “She’s the daughter of the Ma—”
“Enough.” Jared’s low, menacing tone stopped his housekeeper short.
She’s the daughter of the … what? Alissa wondered as she looked from one to the other, noting Jared’s brief look of warning, and Leona’s suddenly subdued manner. The master of Hawkstone, perhaps? All three knew he was that. Alissa’s niggling suspicions began to rise anew.
Jared turned his attention to Alissa again. “You were saying, Miss Pembroke?”
Since Jared seemed willing to hear her out, Alissa was not opposed to taking advantage of the opportunity, and she shoved aside any thought of Leona’s unfinished words. “I realize, Mr. Braxton, that you and Mrs. Dugan care deeply for Megan and that the two of you are highly concerned with her welfare. However, I feel, in the process, you’ve become overly protective. This isn’t good, for you are robbing her of her childhood.”
“You are certain of this?” he asked, his green gaze penetrating hers.
“As an outsider, I believe I can be more objective than those who are close to her.”
“There!” Leona exclaimed. “She acknowledges she’s an outsider. By her own admission, she cannot possibly know what Megan has suffered.”
“I may not have been here to share Megan’s initial grief over the loss of her mother. I can only imagine what a terrible shock it was to her—to you all. However, I am not a stranger to such a loss myself. My own mother’s death was very traumatic.” Alissa had to stop and clear her throat as the ever recurring tears stung her eyes like they always did when she thought of Rachel. Composing herself, she continued, “I can relate to Megan’s fears and uncertainties. If she is ever to recover, you will have to allow her to face whatever it is that has caused her silence. Protecting her is not the answer. Continually keeping her inside the walls of Hawkstone only reminds her of her loss. Put her in my complete care, and I will do my best to free her mind of what’s troubling her.”
Not in the least convinced by Alissa’s words, Leona pleaded with Jared. “Certainly, you don’t believe—”
“Yes, Mrs. Dugan, I do believe what Miss Pembroke says is true. Although we’ve all meant well, we have most likely driven Megan further into her shell. Since I am probably more guilty than anyone of causing it, I will take full blame. However, I must change my ways. And so must you, Mrs. Dugan. You are a trusted and loyal employee, and I sincerely appreciate all your past efforts. But from this day forward, Miss Pembroke will be in full charge of Megan.” Jared noted his housekeeper’s startled look. “When Megan is well, she will be given over to your care again. For now, you will discharge your duties as my housekeeper. As always, I’m certain you will do an excellent job. I hope this meets with your approval.”
Unable to hold her employer’s gaze, Leona looked to the paneled wall behind his head. “As you wish, sir.”
“Then, if you will excuse us, I’d like a private word with Miss Pembroke.”
“Certainly.” Leona rose and exited the room.
Alissa immediately felt her own flicker of guilt. She’d usurped Mrs. Dugan’s authority over Megan. She’d even seen a shimmer of tears in Leona’s eyes. Somehow, the sweetness of victory tasted very sour to Alissa. Very sour indeed.
Viewing the woman opposite him, Jared was amazed to see a touch of remorse bridge the features of her pale face. If anything, he’d expected her to gloat over having won the argument. He’d also noticed the look of pain in her eyes when she’d spoken of her mother earlier. By the quake in her voice, one would have thought she’d just lost her mother within the past year and not the fifteen years ago that had been stated in her letter. Perhaps the woman had a soft spot after all, he decided; then he said, “You seem quite distressed.” He would have offered her a glass of sherry, but he didn’t wish to hear a lecture on the evils of drink again. “May I have cook send up some tea for you?”
“No, I’m just saddened by this episode. I feel very badly about Mrs. Dugan—”
“Mrs. Dugan will get over it. Megan’s needs come first.”
“I realize that.”
“Then, since you now have full care of my daughter, there should be no further excuses on any lack of progress because of interference from my staff.”
Another ultimatum? Alissa wondered. “You must realize it will take time to
gain her trust,” she countered anxiously. “Even then, there are no guarantees.”
“If you are as good as your former employers have professed you to be, there should be no worries—should there?”
“Mr. Braxton, you make it sound as though I’m some kind of god.”
“Hardly. I simply have a positive outlook, which you seem to have lost. In fact, by the recent mellowing of your imperious manner, I’m inclined to believe you no longer hold any confidence in your own abilities.”
“Imperious?” Alissa questioned, her eyes wide.
“If I may be so bold, Miss Pembroke, when we first met you were quite … uh, authoritative. Very self-assured.” Shrewish would be the better term, but he opted not to voice his opinion. “But you seem rather depressed of late. Are you perhaps homesick for London?”
Yes, she thought, but answered, “No. There’s nothing in London I miss.”
“You are not ill, then?”
“Certainly not.”
“Good.” He hadn’t thought so. For since her arrival at Hawkstone, her coloring had improved greatly, the shadows almost disappearing from beneath her eyes. Yet, to his eye, she was still a bit pallid-looking.
“Why all these questions, Mr. Braxton?”
“Because there is something troubling you.”
“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” Alissa denied, not quite meeting his gaze with her own.
“I am not, Miss Pembroke. You are hiding something from me. Of that, I’m certain.”
Alissa’s mind raced and she wondered if he’d somehow discovered the truth about her. “I—I am not hiding anything!” she lied.
“Too many falsehoods will condemn your soul, Miss Pembroke,” Jared said, and noticed her startled glance. He thought he saw guilt there, too. “You need not protect Mrs. Dugan any longer.”
Alissa frowned. “Protect Mrs. Dugan? I don’t have the slightest idea what you mean.”
“Then you are truly unaware Mrs. Dugan has been tainting Megan’s thoughts and pitting her against you.”
Her fear of discovery alleviated, Alissa felt dizzy with relief. Then she watched as Jared rose from his chair and circumvented his desk to angle a hip on the corner of its highly polished surface. “Were you or were you not aware of it?” he asked, his left hand bracing itself on his buckskin-clad thigh as he leaned toward her. “The truth, Miss Pembroke.”
“I—I—” Why did he have to situate himself so closely? she wondered, her gaze traveling over his handsome face. Virile, powerful, masculine, and a devil! her mind calculated quickly, and she leaned back as far as her chair would allow, desperate to escape his magnetic force.
Jared smiled to himself. She looked like a frightened rabbit, ready to bound from a predator. Was she really that wary of him? Most women were overanxious to be in his presence. Why, whenever he’d make a grand entrance into a ballroom, he’d always been tempted to carry a cane with him, wielding it like a sword, to protect himself against the females who virtually attacked his person. For that very reason, he seldom attended such functions.
But prudish Agatha was the only one of her gender he could not win over—not with a smile, nor a compliment, nor with his considerable masculine charm. The only one, that is, except for Celeste, he thought cynically. His beautiful, shallow wife, Celeste. Angered that he’d even allowed himself to think of her, he scoured her image from his mind. Getting a firm grip on his emotions, he looked directly at the little frump not two feet from him. “Miss Pembroke,” he coaxed gently, “the truth, please.”
The sound of his rich voice vibrated through Alissa, and she felt her body react like a tuning fork. Every inch of her flesh quivered in response. Mesmerized, she found she couldn’t answer, only stare at his long-lashed green eyes. Oddly, she felt as though she’d slipped into a trance, induced by an impelling trick of sorcery.
Noting the glazed look in her eyes, he wondered if the woman were subject to some sort of seizure, as well. He snapped his fingers in front of her face.
Alissa blinked. Answer him! she demanded of herself. “I had no proof, but I suspected Mrs. Dugan was somehow influencing Megan. May I ask how you discovered it so?”
Jared leaned back slightly, and Alissa breathed a bit easier. “Megan.” He noted her confusion. “She’s able to communicate through hand signs.”
“She can!” Alissa exclaimed, sliding forward to the edge of her seat. In her eagerness to know more, she forgot she portrayed an expert, one who would not let something of such import slip by her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Jared frowned. “I had assumed you’d noticed.”
As she thought back on it, she realized she had noticed some sort of signing from Megan. Being wrapped up in her own problems, though, she’d not placed much importance on it. Then she wondered if her outburst had roused his suspicions. Quickly she made reference to a passage in one of Agatha’s journals. “You don’t use the Abbé de l’Épée’s method of signing, do you?”
“Who in blazes is the Abbé de l’Épée?”
“He founded the first school for the deaf in Paris between 1755 and 1760. He used sign language and finger spelling to teach his students. Quite successfully, I might add. But it matters not what form you use,” she stated with an airy wave of her hand, hoping to impress him with her so-called knowledge. “Sign language has been in use since our ancestors crawled from their caves.” She noticed his bland look. “Am I boring you with this information?”
“Exceedingly.”
“I apologize, Mr. Braxton. And I apologize for not noticing Megan could communicate. My only excuse is I was becoming acclimated to my new surroundings, as well as still recovering from my illness. Please forgive my lack of perceptiveness.”
“You are forgiven, Miss Pembroke. I don’t expect you to know everything about my daughter in only a fortnight.”
“Would you teach me the signs you’ve devised and their meanings?” Alissa asked. She was indeed eager to learn. Anything would be useful. Once his daughter was cured, she could then barter with Jared and have her name cleared. “It is important I understand what Megan is saying. It’s very frustrating for someone when they cannot make themselves understood. I want to save Megan the stress.”
“That’s been one of my greatest fears, Miss Pembroke,” Jared said, his own frustration evident. “Should she need my help during the night, or if she were to injure herself while playing outside, how could she call out so I might come to her aid? That is why, as you so aptly put it, she has been made a prisoner at Hawkstone. There’s not a night that goes by that I do not check on her several times before she rises the next morn.”
“I understand your fears. If you wish, henceforth, I will check on her while she sleeps. And I promise to stay by her side when we are away from the house. You will give me permission to take her outside, won’t you?” she asked, her eyes locked with his.
“I will, Miss Pembroke.”
Although he’d honored her request, Alissa knew by the look in Jared’s eye, if anything were to happen to Megan, the responsibility would be placed squarely on her shoulders. Heaven only knew what he’d do to her. “Thank you, Mr. Braxton. I will care for her as if she were my own.”
“I’ll hold you to those words,” Jared stated, his penetrating gaze promising her he would. “Your hand, please.” Seeing the affronted expression that instantly covered her face, he almost chuckled aloud. “You do want to learn to sign, don’t you?”
“Yes, certainly.”
“Then give me your hand.”
Her clenched fingers slowly uncurled, and the tips slid over Jared’s calloused palm. He was an accomplished horseman, she knew, for she’d secretly watched from her windows as he fought for control over his thoroughbred stallion, Thor. Both beast and master had a temperament to match, but once Jared had gained the upper hand, the two would ride the hills and valleys. The thought of such freedom made her long more so for her own.
“Shall we begin?” Jared asked. Seeing her nod, he g
ently squeezed her hand in reassurance, knowing it was difficult for her to abide a man’s touch. He marveled at its silky texture, certain the hand did not match the woman who owned it. Confusion marked his brow as his thumb lightly caressed her satiny smooth skin again.
Fire shot up Alissa’s arm, and she jerked her hand free. Bewildered by the sensations he’d evoked, she stared at Jared, half-frightened by the man, half-longing for his gentle touch, again.
His gaze slowly climbed to Alissa’s face, and Jared began to assess each feature, as though he were seeing them for the very first time. Ribbons of pink slashed her high cheekbones, and a straight, slender nose canopied a well-shaped mouth. Her full, lower lip trembled slightly as it separated itself from its mate to expose small, white teeth. With interest, Jared viewed the soft curves, and without thought, his own lips parted in response.
Then his eyes met hers. Clear, blue irises, framed by dark lashes that appeared dipped in pewter, stared back at him. What did he see in her sky-kissed gaze? Fear? Desire? No … longing. But why? he wondered, his eyes lifting to her winged brows, arching over enormous eyes, then to her smooth forehead and upward to … that godawful hairnet!
Jared blinked; his eyes quickly refocused. Pale-skinned, with deep hollows in her cheeks, dark smudges beneath her eyes, she once again became the same unappealing woman he’d first met.
What in blazes was wrong with him! his mind exploded as his brow folded itself into deep furrows. It seemed a continuous question of late. It kept rolling through his mind, over and over again, both day and night. The dreams … no, nightmares that perpetually plagued him …
Dash it all! He didn’t want to think about them! Then he inwardly cursed himself, positive he was headed straight for bedlam, Agatha Pembroke the cause of his insanity!
Masque of Enchantment Page 10
