by Cecilia Gray
She released a long, pent-up breath. “Thank you.” She folded her hands in her lap. “You know if things were different…” She choked on her words. “Savage is a good man, and a good friend.”
Robert had once put his gut between Christian’s fist and a poor drunk fool, and the hit had been painful enough to render his vision white. Yet that was a pleasant memory compared to the blow of Alice’s words.
Did she perhaps want Savage? Did she feel something more for him than an apprehension of his suitability? Tightness twisted behind his ribs. He hadn’t considered, until now, that perhaps she wanted more from Lord Savage and not him.
Maybe he had imagined the sparks between him and Alice. He certainly hadn’t imagined that night or the letters that followed. But was she merely satisfied with their bantering, with their unusually close friendship? Was he alone in this infatuation? Did she even remember the first time they’d met and how amid the field of flowers?
“Do you remember,” he started, “the first time—” He stopped midsentence, realizing he had almost said I saw you and I fell in love?
“The first time I saw Lord Savage?” she finished, having not guessed his question correctly. “Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
* * *
A.,
I am sorry to hear of Sera’s continued state of despair. I can only hope your upcoming birthday celebrations offer her respite.
Your faithful servant,
Yours,
Best,
R.
Chapter Nine
June 28, 1820
Woodbury, England
The carriage rocked as it turned south off the well-trodden road that connected London and Bristol. The jarring movement woke Alice from her nap, as it always did when she made the trek to Woodbury. The remaining journey was usually less than an hour in good weather, and this final stretch marked the point when her excitement for Woodbury set in. London was diverting, but there was something thrilling about a group of close friends and occasional strangers being stranded together on a small estate. Anything could happen.
This time, however, Alice had traveled alone to Woodbury, one day ahead of her sisters. While Sera had tasked her staff with preparing the estate, Alice felt it merited her time to ensure adequate staff, see the rooms were made up, and stock the pantry in time for her sisters’ arrival tomorrow since Sera’s state of mind did not allow for attention to detail.
She sighed and looked out the window, noticing how quiet it was without her usual travel companions. It was disconcerting. Not that it was silent. The driver whistled a cheerful tune. The horses neighed, and their snorts and puffs of air were as rhythmic as the clop of their hooves. The turning wheels continuously crunched against the dirt, and even the leaves and pink and white flowers of the dogwood trees lining the route rustled in the wind. Usually by this point of the trip, all her sisters had awakened or set aside their books as bickering and banter began to fill the carriage.
Solitude was loud in its own way.
She wondered what her sisters were doing at this very moment. Packing, she hoped. Eating, as well. Sera had barely kept down a bite since the accident, and Alice made a mental note to ensure they were well stocked with Sera’s favorite foods, especially watermelon. Sera used to nibble the fruit straight to the rind.
Unfortunately, her sister seemed to have no desire to resume her favorite activities. She’d been born and bred to be an English lord’s wife, and she seemed to be taking the mourning customs especially seriously. Alice, perhaps too independent for her own good, did not see the appeal of spending the next three years wearing black, writing on black stationery, and spending all general hours in a state of misery. If only she could convince Sera of the same.
Of course, the summer stay was to be about more than a getaway for her and her sisters. It was also about her impending marriage to the yet-to-be-informed groom.
Alice closed her eyes tight at the prospect of being married to Lord Savage. He’d been more than welcoming of her conversation at the funeral. In fact, she’d approached him with trepidation and unease and he’d been the one to coax her out of her shell, even drawing out a laugh despite the inappropriateness of the situation.
It had been enough to dispense some of the doubts she had about her plan. She had to marry someone titled, and Lord Savage was titled. He was also nice to look at and friendly. And most important of all, when the marriage was reduced to a state that seemed inevitable among the ton, her heart and soul would remain intact. There would be no tears when his interest strayed to another. No sorrow when they became polite acquaintances within their own marriage. Such common hallmarks of aristocratic marriages usually left her cold when she contemplated them, but she could handle them with Lord Savage. And if by some chance something tragic transpired—if by some chance he were to be taken from her before his time—she would be able to go on as more than a ghost of her former self.
Alice stuck her head out the window as the carriage made its final approach. As she looked out at the grand estate, she reluctantly noted that Woodbury wasn’t hers. It wasn’t even truly Sera’s. But the first sighting of it was always one of her favorite moments in the world.
She wondered if Benjamin considered his inheritance of the lands a blessing or a curse. What sorrow to gain something so beautiful through unspeakable loss . . .
Short, pale-green grass covered the rolling hills that stretched all the way to the ocean. The main house was redbrick, three stories high and two hundred feet wide, and was backed by a grotto of blossoming trees whose scent perfumed the summer air. The two towers rose into view first, and divided the house into three parts—the west wing, the east wing, and a central wing, where the ballroom, dining facilities, parlor, library, music room, and all manner of civilized sitting arrangements were housed. Most of the staff lived below the central wing, although a few rooms on the first floor were reserved for the management staff.
Alice’s eyes widened with pleasure as the estate loomed large in front of her, a stately spectacle amid the vivid blooms. With such an impressive main house it was easy to overlook the rest of the estate, but Alice also loved the stables, the greenhouse, the gardener’s cottage, and the small lake that curved along the back of the house.
That gave her another idea. Sera enjoyed fishing, if Alice recalled correctly. She also intended to hold a birthday event by the lake, weather permitting, since the house would remain in mourning.
Her gaze drifted back to the front stairs of the main building.
Where she saw another carriage stopped.
Who could be visiting? No one was in residence except for the cook, two grooms, two housemaids, the gamekeeper and Alice’s personal lady’s maid, who had arrived in the hired hackney she’d sent a few hours ahead with their clothing. There wasn’t even a butler on hand yet.
She tapped her nose as she considered the possibilities. Perhaps the local gentry were calling with condolences. Or perhaps someone was misinformed about the Belles’ arrival time. There was also the possibility that Alice had provided incorrect information when she’d written to the local vicar of their intent to extend their stay through late Summer—but no, that didn’t seem likely, to her at least.
She was prepared to offer apologies for her lack of preparedness when her own carriage came to a halt and she could see the guest waiting at the top of the stairs, manservant in tow.
Mr. Robert Crawford.
There was no stopping the initial swell of excitement at the sight of his face. He’d left rather hurriedly after their last conversation, when she’d confided she needed him to convince Lord Savage to visit while she was in residence. It had given her a pang to do so but she had no other choice. Happiness wasn’t meant for such as her, who seemed only fated to make other people happy. Except Robert. He hadn’t looked happy at all. In fact, he hadn’t actually agreed to help convince Lord Savage to come to Woodbury.
But of course he would come through. He always did. Still, why ha
d he arrived today instead of on the morrow with her sisters? Had something happened to them?
Alice hastily pulled her head back into the carriage and combed her hair into place. She pressed the backs of her hands to her cheeks, hoping to cool herself down as her entire body had flushed with heat.
By the time she had her wits about her, Robert had already walked down the steps. Too impatient to wait for him or her coachman, she swung open the door and, without waiting for the steps to be lowered, hopped down, her legs stiff from the long journey.
“Are my sisters all right?” she asked as she took long strides to meet him at the base of the steps.
“Good afternoon to you, Miss Belle.”
She fought the quirk of her lips. “Formalities, then? Even in the country? I assume by your response that there is no urgent issue with my family and you have decided to assist me in my request?”
He gave a low bow.
She snorted.
When he rose, a lock of blond hair brushed over his mischievous blue eyes. “You wanted Lord Savage. I have delivered Lord Savage.”
She took a step back and looked over her shoulder. “While I appreciate your assistance, since I do not see him in tow, I assume your idea of delivery does not match my own.” Her eyes rounded. “You didn’t say anything to him about my intentions, did you?”
His face betrayed mock horror. “A gentleman would never betray a lady’s trust.”
She squinted and leaned closer to peer into his eyes. He sighed and returned her stare with earnestness. The guileless blue orbs stared back at her, calm as could be. He was telling the truth. He’d always told her the truth. While he would not be her husband, he’d become something even rarer—a friend.
English ladies were not supposed to be bossy. They weren’t supposed to be forthright. Alice had tried her best as a child to set an example but it was not her personality. It had been Sera and Bridget who led the way in regards to being a proper lady.
Meeting Robert Crawford had been a relief. He was a break from the formality, a change to the tedium. In Alice’s rigid world, he was the exception to every rule. With him, she never felt as though she were being bossy. Merely being herself.
He took her arm and walked her toward the house. “I have convinced Benjamin and Graham that they should spend their summer of mourning here, at Woodbury, with you and your sisters. They must meet with the estate manager and establish a continuity of management.”
Alice’s stopped in her tracks. “You can’t mean for both parties to inhabit this estate simultaneously.”
“It’s been done before.”
“With the duke in residence. But now it is just . . . it’s not . . .”
“You’re sounding positively missish.”
She may have hissed.
“Lady Rivington is chaperone enough for your sisters in the presence of Benjamin and Graham. I’ve just finished arrangements to have their rooms prepared and adequate staff brought in. I’ve also rented a house in town and extended an invitation to Lord Savage to visit at his earliest convenience.”
“A carriage and now a house,” she mused. “Expensive trappings. You’ve come up in the world.”
“Touché. Perhaps I have secured the affections of a rich fiancée.”
“Oh.” She felt a pinch of surprise. Robert did not need to marry. He did not require an heiress if he could afford a modest townhouse. She supposed she had always assumed he would not marry, which was stupid and selfish and, she could admit it, hopeful. Of course he’d eventually marry. Another woman. And then his would be reserved for this interloper. It was only fair, because once Alice married Lord Savage and became Lady Savage, well, she couldn’t very well carry on teasing with another man, either. One whom she really ought not to be teasing anyway.
“Benjamin lent me the carriage,” he said at her continued silence.
“And the house?” she asked.
“The house in town belongs to one of his tenants, who has quit Woodbury for Bath.”
“So no fiancée?”
“None.”
“Ah. I suppose if you secure me Lord Savage’s affection, it will only be polite for me to secure a fiancée for you in return.” How she maintained the tremble in her voice, she didn’t know.
“No need to trouble yourself now,” he said. “I understand your first priority is Lady Rivington’s emotional state, and mine is my friends as they mourn their father and brother. However, I remain convinced that the true way to cure sadness is by finding happiness, and I know all parties would consider your engagement happy news.”
“And you?” she asked. “Would you be glad of it?”
Something hardened in his expression. His eyebrows pinched, and he looked at her with rugged determination. “I assure you, Miss Belle, that the day of your engagement will mark the happiest day of my life.”
He turned on his heel and directed the coachman to bring her luggage into the house.
* * *
Robert left Alice to finalize arrangements for her family’s arrival and rode in his carriage to the modest six-room flat in town. After borrowing a horse from the nearby stable for his personal use, he sent the carriage back to bring Benjamin and Graham to Woodbury. Savage could find his own way. That man had his own fleet of phaetons, the filthy rich Midas that he was.
Finally settled and alone with his thoughts—he’d sent his manservant into town for food—Robert lit a fire at the stone hearth in the parlor and sat at a writing desk better suited to a man half his size. His knees bumped against the bottom of the desk, and he had to hunch over to rest his arms on the surface. Far more meager accommodations than even his London rooms. Still, it was far better to wage this war at Woodbury than in London. At least according to Robert’s extensive understanding of strategy.
In London, there were far more suitors than in Woodbury and far more opportunities for Alice to divert her attention should Lord Savage and future suitors prove inadequate or disinterested. In doing so, Alice would never be forced to confront what she knew to be true: that there was no need for her to marry a title.
She neither required nor particularly desired it.
Strategy had always been one of Robert’s strong suits. His ability to simultaneously comprehend the batsman and fielding strategies was what made him a team leader in cricket. His chess-like understanding of battlefield moves was also what made him such a successful military strategist. Winning was always a matter of understanding not only your opponents but your own players and the field in which you were engaged.
While he had first let emotion get in the way of his pursuit, he realized that his game-winning acumen was needed for this task. And he would put it to the test.
An amateur might assume that Lord Savage was his opponent, but this was not the case. Savage would actually prove an ally, a valuable one, because there was no better person to convince Alice Belle of the unsuitability of their match than Savage himself.
Robert understood that his actual opponent was much harder to conquer: Alice’s sense of duty to her parents.
It had been Mary Belle who decreed her daughters should marry into the aristocracy, and it had been Dominic Belle who had taken the order literally, as a dying wish to be wrought at all costs. Now, Alice, who had already let her baby sister fall on the sword for her family, was prepared to make the sacrifice herself.
As opponents went, his was formidable, indeed.
But he had overcome worse foes. Just not for stakes as high as these.
Once he maneuvered Alice into understanding that Lord Savage was unsuitable, he could then force her to confront her feelings for him.
Assuming she had those feelings.
He shook his head. No. He had to overcome these bouts of insecurity. He knew she had some degree of feeling. That one night that they kissed made it fairly obvious. Whether she would be willing to acknowledge or own up to her affections, that would be the challenge.
If only he’d pressed his interest in cour
ting her at the time. If only he’d taken advantage. Been less of a gentleman.
Well, he had no intention of being a gentleman about winning Alice’s heart now.
As was his habit when strategizing, he opened a black notebook, dipped his quill in ink, and wrote out his plan. On one page he listed all the players and their strengths and weaknesses. He considered whom he would actively recruit to his cause. Unfortunately, only Dinah had figured out her sister’s intentions toward Savage, but he did not feel comfortable openly recruiting Alice’s sister.
However, it was possible for her sisters to serve as unwitting assistants. Bridget, always the romantic, would be the voice of passion and love to sway Alice toward honoring her feelings. Dinah would be the practical one, to convince Alice there was no need to marry a titled lord. And Charlotte . . . Well, he found it painfully obvious that Charlotte had been in love with Lord Savage for years. If Alice were made aware of her sister’s feelings, she couldn’t possibly destroy Charlotte’s happiness in favor of her own engagement.
The more he considered all the tactics at his disposal, the more his neat script gave way to fast scribbles. His wrist and hand ached from clutching the quill so tightly. He turned page after page, considering ways to bring Alice and Lord Savage together that would best highlight his friend’s worst attributes. Not that his friend didn’t have good attributes, but there was no need to give good press.
Besides, it wasn’t as if Alice and Savage would be happy together, anyway, and the sooner they understood that, the better. Alice was bossy and Savage wasn’t one to be bossed. Quite frankly, Robert thought with a grin, while he himself was a take-charge-type of gentleman, a part of him liked being told what to do when Alice was doing the telling.
* * *
June 29, 1820
Woodbury, England
Alice’s gaze darted back and forth across Dinah, Bridget, and Charlotte as they took tea in the Woodbury library and offered solutions on how to deal with Sera’s melancholy. Sera herself had gone straight to bed upon their arrival.
“More laudanum?” Charlotte offered.
