A Clandestine Affair (Currents of Love Book 5)

by Emilee Harris

  “You’re lucky most of the servants have already gone ahead to Heathermoore. There are only the butler and two or three maids left here before we shut everything up for the summer. You’ll have to—”

  A ruckus sounded from the direction of the front entry, punctuated by an angry child’s cry.

  “Oh, dear,” Sarah wrung her hands and took a step toward the door, then back again. “Mother and the other ladies are back; they’ll want to tell me about their trip. I’ll be back as soon as I can. You, uh…” she waved her hands in the air to indicate the room.

  “Right,” Thomas nodded, tugging at his coat. It seemed the only way for either of them to be remotely comfortable with the idea of him lounging in Sarah’s bedroom was to not voice that fact. In another instant she’d disappeared through the door, leaving Thomas to the tortures of his thoughts.

  Darkness had settled outside before Sarah returned. The waiting wore on Thomas’s nerves. He’d been on tender hooks all afternoon in his isolation, pacing ruts into the carpet and studying the window, but not daring to approach it. Every time he heard a noise in the hall it sent him scurrying behind the dressing screen in the corner. He attempted sitting at the desk, taking time to complete the note for Eric, but his nerves prevented him from sitting still for long.

  A voice sounded on the other side of the door, causing him to jump in his thoughts. He turned to see the doorknob beginning to turn and ducked behind the screen again. He held his breath a long moment before recognizing Sarah’s voice.

  “It’s me, Sir Thomas, you can come out.”

  He rounded the corner and nodded his thanks.

  “I told my family I wished to retire early and requested a tray. You should eat something, and then it will likely be dark enough that you can be on your way.”

  “I’m sure it’s dark enough now,” Thomas angled his chin toward the window. “But how will I get through the house?”

  Sarah shook her head. “You won’t.”

  He watched her move toward the window and open it silently, ducking to lean out and observe the space behind the building.

  “The window?”

  She turned into the room and nodded. “The brickwork on this side allows for convenient hand and foot holds, just make your way slowly.”

  Thomas furrowed his brow in doubt, but curiosity prompted him to pace toward the window, stopping when he remembered the house was being watched. “What about the guards?”

  “Guard,” she corrected. “The one out front is still there, but I think it was a simple threatening gesture, there’s no one posted out back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Eric checked, and you know how thorough he is.”

  Nodding, Thomas ran a hand through his hair. Then another thought occurred to him. “How did you come to know of that brickwork?” He questioned, unable to imagine the quiet and proper Sarah sneaking out into the night.

  “I told you,” a half-grin spread across her features. “My brothers. As it happens, my room is the only one with access to the fortuitous brickwork, so it became the way station for their illicit jaunts. They paid me handsomely for my silence.”

  Thomas chuckled and shook his head. “How very enterprising of you.”

  A knock sounded at the door, catching their attention, and they swiveled toward the door. Without a word, Thomas removed to his hiding place behind the screen as Sarah went to answer the door. Her surprised voice followed a moment later.

  “Eric, what are you doing here?”

  The breath Thomas had taken in stuck in his throat and his pulse began to ring loudly in his ears.

  “I came to check on you and brought your tray.”

  The slight clattering of tableware and slide of a wooden tray sounded from the direction of the desk.

  “Thank you, but that wasn’t necessary. I’m really quite all right, just tired.”

  “Come now, you expect me to believe that? I know this business with Thomas has you flustered. But you must try not to let it affect you.”

  “That’s an easy request to make, Eric, but how can you stand by so placidly when your friend has had such outrageous charges brought against him?”

  “Sir Thomas is no friend of mine,” The bitterness in Eric’s tone grated on Thomas’ ears.

  “Eric, hasn’t this grudge gone on long enough? Sir Thomas was wrong in how he behaved, but he’s acknowledged that several times. Is the memory of all the friendship he provided for this family and for you not strong enough to ease your hurt?”

  “Poppet, Eric soothed, “you are always willing to see the best in anyone no matter the circumstance, but I fear in this case you’ve let your feelings lead you astray. Sir Thomas may have enjoyed the company of this family for a time, but his actions were always motivated by his own gain. Even in the friendliest of moments, he had himself in mind. That kind of man doesn’t change in such a short span, if at all. It would do you good to move on as the rest of us have.”

  Behind the screen, Thomas shut his eyes. He had changed. Quite a bit, but not for the better.

  “I have done exactly as you’ve asked and expected, Eric, that doesn’t mean I believe it’s right.”

  “Either way, Eric gave a resigned sigh, the man is no longer an attachment to this family and therefore none of our concern. Whatever mess he’s gotten himself into—”

  “Can you honestly say that you believe what the constable said about him?”

  A long pause followed her words, in which Thomas’ ears strained to hear his old friend’s response.

  “No, I can’t. However, I can imagine that his methods and rash behavior may have led him into something that’s gone over his head. In either case, it’s not our concern and I won’t enmesh this family in Sir Thomas’ problems by taking up inquiries.” A short silence ensued, and Thomas guessed the conversation had not gone in the direction Eric anticipated. When he spoke again, his voice held a sentiment more akin to exhaustion than caring.

  “We’re leaving for home within the week, and aside from possibly taking an interest in Sir Thomas’ welfare via information I may or may not receive, I have no plan to otherwise engage in any continued conversation or surveillance of him. His life is his own, his messes are his own, and he’s got to take care of himself.”

  Silence descended, broken only by the click of the door as Eric left. Thomas waited a heartbeat just to be sure, then peeked around the screen to see Sarah standing beside the desk hanging her head.

  “I’m sorry about that,” she commented looking up at him with apologetic eyes and her hands clasped in front of her.

  “You needn’t be,” He assured her, his eyes wandering the room. “Eric is right. My life is my own and my troubles are my own. I had hoped to gain some understanding and assistance from him, but old habits die hard and he was always the first person I thought of when difficulties arose. I can’t say it’s a pleasant thought, but I suppose I must go it alone and hope that my own efforts prove beneficial.”

  Sarah pressed her lips together and did not respond. After a moment in which neither of them spoke or moved, she indicated the tray on the desk. “Please eat something, you’ve been stuck in this room all day.”

  “I can’t eat your dinner, Miss Langdon,” he smiled but her shoulders drooped even further in their defeat and a pang of guilt prompted him to attempt lessening her upset. “However, if you feel you won’t be able to finish the meal yourself, I am happy to dispose of any scraps you might see fit to throw this unwelcome mongrel.”

  His words elicited a small smile and giggle which lightened his heart enough for him to ignore the pressing urgency of his escape which had hounded him through the afternoon. Pacing to the desk, he made a show of holding out her small chair as though they stood in the formal dining room.

  He joined her, carrying over the stool from her vanity, and they continued in silence with Sarah eating what she liked, then passing the plate to him. He opted not to note the precision with which she portioned out her f
ood, suspiciously leaving the larger segment for him.

  “I hadn’t realized you were such a voracious reader,” He offered instead as appetites waned and the dread of facing his situation alone began to reassert itself. His eyes fell on a stack of books on the corner of her desk. She followed his gaze, her cheeks reddening slightly.

  “Oh, I enjoy reading just as much as anyone else, and especially during dreary weather there’s not all that much else to do.”

  Thomas picked up the top book on the stack, which also housed a pair of spectacles. He held up the glasses in salute before setting them atop the next book. “I also didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

  Her blush deepened. “I don’t very often, but I’m afraid too many long nights spent reading in dim lighting have taken their toll on my eyes.”

  She shifted in her seat; her eyes fixed on the book in his hand with a look of… worry? The emotion seemed completely out of character.

  “I can understand the draw,” he smiled as he inspected the book in his hand, careful to contain his surprise. “You’re a fan of mysteries?”

  “Among other things, she acknowledged, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. Had her hair always glinted so golden in the candlelight? Thomas blinked and busied himself returning the book to its place. He didn’t press the point; he’d had enough time during the afternoon to inspect the stacks of books littered here and there around the room and found that the majority of them were mysteries and other fanciful pieces.

  “A well-written book can keep the mind engaged almost endlessly,” he mused. “It would be folly to begin one later in the day. I spent quite a few sleepless nights in my youth thanks to the same bad habit.” He glanced her way, pleased to see the tension in her shoulders relax a bit. “Fortunately, the additional enticements of youth caught my attention early enough to prevent any lasting damage to my eyes. Your brothers were not original in their escapades I fear.”

  His thoughts moved back to Eric, and this time the pull of the dark imploring him to leave refused denial. Breathing in a sigh, he looked to the window and rose. Sarah followed and they paused beside the portal.

  “Miss Langdon,” he reached into his pocket for the note he’d completed earlier. “I’d like to ask you to do something for me.”

  “Yes?”

  “If anything should happen to me along the way, I’ve explained everything in this message for Eric.” He produced the letter from his pocket. “I’d like you to hold onto it and if the necessity arises, please see that he gets it. I have no wish to further complicate his life or cause upset as I have in the past, but I do believe this is a crucial enough issue that he ought to investigate it. Will you promise me?” He pressed the paper into her palm, effectively taking her hand in both of his as he waited for her reply.

  “Yes of course,” came her breathless reply. “But I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “I hope so too. And, for what it’s worth, though Eric refuses to believe it, I am sorry for my thoughtless behavior in the past.”

  She sent him a warm smile. “I know.”

  Turning toward the window, he paused again, feeling his sentiments inadequately conveyed for this potentially final parting. Turning back, he ducked a brief kiss to her cheek before he gave himself enough time to consider his actions. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Not wishing to witness the affront he likely just caused, he retreated hastily to the window and made his way down to the back of the house and the adjacent alley, the evening chill sinking into him as he did his best to fade into London’s nebulous night.

  Chapter 5

  The housekeeper’s voice echoed down the hall a moment before she turned the corner, trailed by one of the maids. The warning allowed Thomas just enough time to duck into a darkened corner and flatten himself against the wall.

  “And did you remember to go into the guest room this morning and restock the kindling?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “And has the miss requested anything additional for her room? That space is kept so spartan, I can’t imagine she’s entirely comfortable in it.”

  The miss? Thomas tilted his head toward the conversation, the voices dimming incrementally as they continued down the hall.

  “I tell you I’m quite relieved she’s here,” the housekeeper continued. Dear Mrs. Prescot was like to fall into a terrible fit without a companion.”

  The mention of his aunt distracted Thomas a moment. He’d had the same concern, which played a large part in his unwise visits to his home. He thought he’d spied a light in one of his guest rooms during his previous attempts to monitor the place, but couldn’t be sure if someone were actually occupying the space or if it was just the staff going through their routine tasks. He generally only came by later at night, an odd time for his staff to be moving around in the spare rooms.

  “She hasn’t requested a thing ma’am,” the young maid’s voice confirmed from somewhere near the servant’s staircase. “I’ve asked her twice already, but she insists she has everything she needs.”

  The housekeeper sniffed her dissatisfaction. “Well, even so, I’m sure she’s only being polite. Tomorrow, you may add to the room an additional few pages of writing paper, I’m sure Sir Thomas wouldn’t begrudge her, and…” The voices trailed off as the women reached the end of the hall and began their journey to their next location, swallowed by the narrow, enclosed stairwell.

  Entering the home had been risky, constables surrounded the building and monitored the road and alleyway. That not all of them were equally engaged in their tasks provided his only opportunity. Luckily for Thomas, the man in the rear of the home lost his sense of importance in this detail early on, and Thomas noticed in his previous two visits that the man had taken to increasing his rest breaks, frequently sitting on a stack of pallets for lengthy periods of time and occasionally napping.

  The man was also an exceptional creature of habit. Once begun, these breaks took on regular timing. Deciding to test the pattern, Thomas approached the rear entry to his home during the time he guessed the man might be least aware, the sound of a soft snore rewarding him from behind the pallets. Even so, He would not have attempted entering his home at all except he realized some useful information lay tucked away in his study which might help his cause.

  But the mention of a guest sparked his curiosity, as well as a healthy dose of worry for his aunt’s welfare. Who in the world would be visiting right now? He had no plan for visitors and doubted his aunt would have invited anyone. She had few enough acquaintances. Yet, whoever this guest was, if she were truly responsible for maintaining the good health of his aunt, he had to add his own gratitude to that of the housekeeper.

  Turning his attention away from the direction of the stairway and his study, he crept down the hall toward his aunt’s sitting room. He hadn’t intended to leave her alone and without word from him, but there was no help for it. He’d had no prior inkling of what would happen the night he went to meet Graham and was certainly not surprised to find his home surrounded by watchmen by the time he returned to it.

  He dared not attempt sending a message to his aunt. First because he feared it might be intercepted, and second because, as much as he loved her, he couldn’t trust her with any information about his well-being or whereabouts until he made sense of the situation for himself.

  As he approached the sitting room, a soft and familiar voice drifted into the hall. A young voice, floating in tones of recitation. Someone was reading aloud to his aunt. As he neared, his heart began to beat faster as his senses recognized the voice before his brain allowed him to comprehend the possibility.

  “Such were the notes that from the Pirate’s isle, Around the kindling watch-fire rang the while; Such were the sounds that thrill’d the rocks along, And unto ears as rugged seem’d a song!”

  It can’t possibly be…

  The voice faded to the end of its recitation, followed by a small pause before his aunt sounded a response in a cl
ear and cheerful voice.

  “That was lovely, Miss Langdon, I don’t know that I’d enjoy this Byron fellow half as much without your skillful recitation. I tell you; I am so delighted you’ve come to stay. I can’t say what I would have done left to my own devices. My maid is the sweetest woman, but much pressed with additional tasks about the house. I can’t bring myself to request more of her time.

  Miss Langdon?

  “Exactly what I suspected when I received your note, Aunt Mabel,” the young woman’s voice took up just as brightly. “But really it was for my own benefit that I requested to stay in town when my family left for our estate. Life has become something quite different with the addition of family members, and I find myself sometimes regretting the loss of quiet adult pastimes. Mother and Angelique are preoccupied with their respective duties of mother and grandmother, and Eloise is entrenched in preparations for her baby.”

  “Oh, never fear, your day will come,” his aunt’s chuckling response sounded. Another pause ensued in which no reply came from Sarah.

  Sarah Langdon. There was no denying it. Though Thomas had yet to see her, he recognized her voice in a heartbeat. What was she doing here? This could not bode well. Thomas shook his head. Despite his intent to quickly enter and leave his home, he must not allow Sarah to remain here. He’d caused enough trouble for her family as it was and would not abide any additional danger to her lingering on his head.

  He surveyed the hallway, attempting to decide the best means of action. Entering the sitting room and alerting his aunt to his presence wasn’t an option, neither did he dare remain so openly moving about his home. Taking his watch from his pocket, he depressed the lever of the cover and checked the time. His aunt was unlikely to remain up for longer than another half hour. Hopefully, Sarah would retire at the same time his aunt did. Nodding to himself, he turned from the sitting room and returned to his original task, creeping down the hallway toward his study. Once he found what he needed, he would see to admonishing Sarah for her presence.