An Affair Downstairs (16 page)

“That's what I said when I put it on your finger.” Ralston, the fox, flashed his toothy grin. The fox had won the hunt after all. Crafty beast.

Did she really want to marry him? Why shouldn't she? She could barely string two thoughts together and yet the man still loved her. He stayed with her. Why wouldn't she marry him? She needed him.

“Ralston,” she said. “My loyal knight in shining armor. Or, in a black coat. It will do.”

“It had better.” He took the seat next to her at the work table in the back parlor and patted her hand. “Armor is heavy, but I'm willing to wear it every day if that's what would make you happy, Pumpkin.”

Pumpkin? From Ralston, too? Her head hurt. As if for the first time, she noticed the twined ring of branches on the table, the basket of holly, and the ribbon, and she made the connection at last. “Wreaths. We're making wreaths for Christmas. How lovely!”

It had always been her favorite thing to do as a girl, making the Christmas wreaths to decorate the house, next to making mud pies. But she couldn't shape mud pies at Christmas time. The ground was too frozen.

“Do you want any fruit for your wreath? Or just flowers?” Sophia asked.

“Lemons,” Alice said. “Have we any lemons yet? Winthrop planted them so long ago.”

“Not so very long ago,” Sophia said, sharing a glance with Ralston. “The trees haven't borne fruit yet. But soon enough, if we wait patiently.”

Alice nodded. It was a full minute before she realized she was still nodding. She had to stop nodding. Why couldn't she stop? Lord Averford came in. She stopped. Thank goodness, a distraction just in time. “Gabriel, we're making wreaths.”

“I see, Alice. Very pretty. Perhaps I can hang one in my office to remind me to come out in time for Christmas to see my wife. Getting Kenner used to the estate is taking more time than I imagined.”

Mr. Kenner, the new estate manager, Mrs. Hoyle's cousin. Alice started nodding again. He was no Winthrop. No one ever could be. God, she missed Winthrop. He would never stand for everyone treating her like a child. There was a time that she wouldn't have, either, but she was so tired. Too tired to protest. She said terrible things to Sophia when she got tired. Sophia always said it would pass, but Alice wasn't getting better. Why wasn't she? Her head started to ache again.

“I'm out of wire,” Sophia said. “There's another roll in my writing desk. I'll just be a moment.”

“No, I'll get it,” Alice said. “Please. I would like to start feeling useful again. You can't imagine what it's like inside my head. I need to be useful.”

Sophia flashed her a look of sympathy. “You go on. It's…”

“I know. It's in your desk. In the drawing room. I can find my way alone.” In the desk, of course. She knew. Her mind seemed to be a little clearer, even if her head did hurt.

She got up carefully. It wouldn't do to make a mess of things. She walked across the room, staying focused on the doorway and then on the pictures on the wall, and before she knew it, she was in the drawing room. She'd done it! Though she wasn't sure it was an occasion to celebrate, simply getting from one room to the next.

She fumbled with the latch on the desk but managed to open it, and she reached for the wire. But then, her eyes found focus on an envelope bearing her name. Why did Sophia have a letter addressed to her? Alice had probably known about it and just forgot. Sometimes she forgot things, like being engaged to Lord Ralston.

But things came back to her, too. Seeing her ring reminded her that she had said yes. He'd asked her in the drawing room one evening after Agatha had left for the Dower House and Sophia and Gabriel had left them alone in front of the fireplace. Ralston had asked her if she wanted a blanket, and he'd covered her lap with the same blanket that Logan had worn that night after the storm. How she'd laughed! She couldn't explain the joke to Ralston, so she simply said she was so happy to be with him. And then he'd said he was glad to hear it and pulled out the box with the ring.

She still couldn't remember having seen the letter. She slipped it into her pocket and planned to ask Sophia when she handed her the wire. Alice had managed to focus and had formed a plan. The world was slowly becoming less fuzzy around the edges. The doctor said she would make progress, if a little slowly. And here she was, progress.

She walked a little faster, filled with a little more confidence, as she returned to the back parlor.

“Here is your wire, my lady.” She even performed a little bow.

Sophia thanked her. “You seem to be in good spirits. Are you beginning to feel a little better perhaps? Do you still have the buzzing in your head?”

“It's still there, but it seems a little quieter. I think the walk did me some good, actually. Maybe it helped clear my head just a little.” She decided to ask about the letter later. If it had been bad news, maybe she did not want to know just now.

“Tea, Alice?” Ralston poured her a cup. “Drink up. It might help clear your head further.”

“Worth a try.” She smiled over the edge of the cup, taking a sip. “Ooh, hot. I'll just let it cool down a moment.”

She set the cup in the saucer and looked over to watch Sophia putting the finishing touches on her wreath.

“It's beautiful, Sophia,” Ralston said, looking it over.

“It is,” Alice agreed, though she thought it was nothing to the ones she used to craft and would make again once her head got better.

“You're an artist, darling.” Averford did not even look up from his newspaper.

“She is,” Ralston agreed. “I like the way you've put a cluster of poinsettia on this side and echoed the pattern on the other side with ribbon.”

He smiled at Sophia, baring his large, white teeth. His fox grin, as Alice had come to think of it. Alice sat a little straighter in her chair. Was he flirting with her sister? She knocked the teacup over with her elbow. Fortunately, cup and saucer landed on the rug without making a sound. While Ralston and Sophia were distracted by Sophia's handiwork, Alice simply picked the cup up and put it back without saying a word. She didn't want to call any more attention to her failures. It was time to show everyone that she could beat this thing. Her mind would be whole again.

“Your tea cooled enough to drink it?” Ralston asked, looking over at last to nod at the empty cup. “Another cup?”

“No. I think I've had enough. Perhaps I should go lie down.”

Once Sophia finished tucking Alice in for a nap and left her alone, blessedly alone at last, Alice got up again. The buzzing had stopped. She could see the objects in her room clearly, no longer through a haze. It was happening at last. She was getting better. The doctor had given her the impression it would happen slowly, a little at a time. But this was more sudden. First, she couldn't stop nodding and could barely remember her own engagement, and in the next hour or so, she felt almost completely back to herself. Thank God. Sophia would be so relieved. Ralston would realize he wasn't marrying an idiot. Lord Averford might even look up from his paper to congratulate her.

But first, she remembered the letter from Sophia's writing desk. Why did her sister have a letter addressed to her that did not appear to have even been opened? She looked. It was from Winthrop. Her heart beat a frantic tattoo.

What might he have said? She wanted to rip into it right away, but no. She decided to go to the conservatory to read it next to the lemon trees, to feel like he was with her again, if only for the moment.

Alice's heart sank with every word. Logan
had
wanted to say good-bye. He'd written! How could Sophia have kept it from her? He'd asked Alice to meet and let him explain, and she'd never answered him because she'd had no idea he'd written. In Alice's mental state, could she blame Sophia for protecting her? She supposed she could. She did.

She paced in front of the lemon trees. If only Logan could see how well the trees were thriving under the gardener's care. She would tell him. She would pack and leave at once and tell him. It was too risky to wait. If Sophia had been deliberately keeping Alice from Logan, she would prevent Alice from seeing him. If Alice wrote a letter, she couldn't trust Sophia to post it. Sophia would convince Alice that she was too unwell to make a journey. Alice didn't even know where Stratton Place was, exactly, but she would find out.

In less than an hour, Sophia would return to Alice's room to check on her. They seldom left her alone for long. She had to hurry. She had to get away, to get to Logan. She returned to her room to pull on a warm coat, her hat, and gloves. Her more sensible walking boots were at the Dower House. Agatha would help her, wouldn't she? Agatha would never choose to side with Sophia over Alice. Before leaving, Alice grabbed one last thing—the pin that Grandmother had given Sophia, and Sophia had given to her. If she ever needed luck in finding the right man, it was now.

At the Dower House, Agatha had proven more than helpful.

“They kept saying you were wrong here”—Agatha tapped a finger to her temple—“but I knew you were right. The only thing that wasn't right was you letting them tell you what to do all day. I'm glad you've snapped out of that.”

“Head injuries can take time to heal, Auntie,” Alice said. “But I seem to be feeling much better.”

“Head injuries? Bah. It's Lord Ralston. He's a wizard who cast his spell on you. You're feeling better because you're away from him. The further, the better.”

“You don't like Lord Ralston?” Alice ignored the wizard accusation, but she did feel better than she had in a while.

Agatha shuddered. “He's most impolite. Mary agrees with me.”

Alice hadn't counted on the maid being part of their conversation, but she supposed Agatha considered Mary a confidante. Alice would just have to trust the maid, too, or take care in how much she revealed.

“There's something off about the man. I can't think what. He has fortune and birth to his credit, but he lacks a certain…” Mary sighed. “Give me time, I will think of it.”

“Time is exactly what I haven't got. It will be less than an hour before Sophia discovers me missing. It's not that I mean to run off without a word and worry her, but I do need to get away and she'll stop me if she can. She wants me to marry an earl.”

“Where do you mean to go? Home to your parents?” Agatha looked concerned. “Your mother would certainly report to Sophia the minute you arrived.”

“I have somewhere else in mind.”

“You're going to see Mr. Winthrop.” Agatha folded her hands across her chest as if enchanted by the idea.

“How do you know? Have you seen something in the cards to make such a prediction?” Alice couldn't doubt supernatural interference when Agatha became certain of something.

“I've seen things out my own windows, dear. Or out Thornbrook Park windows, as it were. The two of you together, more than once. No one could mistake your attraction.”

Ah, it wasn't the paranormal at all that had given them away, but simple human interaction. If they'd been so obvious about it, it was a wonder no one had put an end to it sooner. “You must help me by redirecting Sophia's suspicions. It will certainly occur to her that Stratton Place is where I will have gone. I'll buy a ticket to London and change trains at the next stop. Be sure she thinks to look for me in London, with an old friend perhaps.

“Yes, tell her I planned to stay with Millicent Fields. Millie's brother studied medicine. It would be natural for me to seek out Millie for help and advice. The London ruse should give me enough time to at least see Logan before Sophia arrives to drag me away. He wanted to talk to me, and I believe he deserves a chance to have his say.”

“He does.” Agatha smiled as if she'd known something all along that had eluded everyone else. “You do. You both do. You two will be very happy together at last!”

“We're simply going to have a conversation, Agatha. Don't go reading anything into it. I will let you know when I've arrived safely so that you won't have to be concerned.”

Agatha waved a hand. “I'll know, my dear. I will know.”

Alice didn't dare linger long enough to pack more. She'd gotten what she came for—sturdy shoes and a look at the map—and she wished Agatha and Mary luck in keeping up their end of the deception, for her sake. As much as she hated to have to ask them to lie for her, Alice supposed it was more important that someone knew where she had really gone and that she was safe. A quick good-bye and she was off on foot to the train station.

She left for London in the first-class car. If Sophia checked on her ticket purchase, it would only make sense for Alice to travel as she'd been accustomed. In Teckford, just off the train, she meant to hire a car, but a shop with sparkling jewels in the window by the station drew her notice. There was a pair of cuff links in the window, onyx with a small diamond set in each, that looked like something she could imagine Logan wearing. Suddenly, she had to have them. She remembered when she'd considered courting him with a gift, and she'd looked for just the thing to no avail. Here it was before her eyes, exactly what she'd hoped to buy him.

She went in. The price was more than she could afford at the moment. She hadn't brought that much money with her. But she had her engagement ring, and she had her grandmother's pendant. Something told her she had better hang on to the engagement ring. She put it in her pocket for safekeeping and prepared to offer the ruby pendant in exchange for the cuff links. It seemed a fair trade, and the shopkeeper was agreeable. He even promised to put the pendant aside for a reasonable amount of time so that she could return and buy it back. Pleased with her bargaining skills and her purchase, she returned to the station to look for a cab.

***

The sun had gone down by the time she arrived, but she could see that Stratton Place was almost as grand an estate as Thornbrook Park. Her nerves skittered as the car left her and she walked to the door. Perhaps coming here had been a mistake. She would arrive unexpected. They were probably getting ready for dinner. She should have told the car to wait. But it was Logan, she assured herself. He would never be sorry to see her, would he?

A butler of about the same age as Finch—which was to say a stately, formal, older man—answered the door.

“Lady Alice Emerson.” She gave her name, trying to appear authoritative and in command when her insides were quivering like aspic. “I'm here to see Mr. Winthrop. He's not expecting me.”

“Come in.” The butler welcomed her into the hall. “One moment.”

In that moment, her own heartbeat echoed in her ears so loudly that she feared her heart was about to explode. When Winthrop, elegantly attired in white tie and black tails, appeared from around a corner and stepped into the hall, she was nearly convinced that her heart did actually burst. It was all she could do to stand on her own accord and not run and collapse into his arms.

“Mr. Winthrop,” she said, more coolly than she felt. “You're looking well. I hope I'm not interrupting your dinner.”

“Alice.” His jaw dropped. He made no effort to keep up an act of formal politeness between them. He closed the distance and took her in his arms. She nearly sobbed with relief.

Returning his embrace, afraid she might have half strangled him, she stayed in his arms a moment too long to be certain she had regained her composure. At last, he held her at arm's length.

“I wasn't sure I would see you again. You never answered my letter. I thought perhaps you were holding a grudge for my leaving without saying good-bye.”

“I am holding a grudge.” She smiled and stripped off her gloves, prepared to stay a while. “You know me too well. But I'm willing to give you a chance to explain. We are friends, after all.”

“Yes. Of course we are.” He took her hands in his and gave a gentle squeeze. “I'm sorry. I'm—I'm still astonished by your presence. You're really here? I'm not imagining?”

“I'm here.” She suddenly became aware of the butler standing off to the side, no doubt waiting to see if he could take her hat and coat. “I got your letter at last, and I came at once.”

“I'm glad you did.” He held her gaze, perhaps still a little dazed by her sudden appearance.

She couldn't take her eyes off him. She knew Winthrop, the estate manager, but she was meeting Logan Winthrop, the gentleman's son, for the first time. His hair was neater, smoother, perhaps combed into place with pomade, and his clothes were posh, much more so than his estate manager's business suits. He stood straighter, taller, and he had replaced his brusque stoicism with a certain rough elegance.

The difference was in his demeanor and mostly in the area of his mouth, she realized. His lips seemed fuller and more inviting now that he'd softened his mouth from the usual tense, grim line. This man could be a baron, though of course he was a second son. His brother was around somewhere, possibly sitting at the dining table wondering what had become of Logan.

“Your house is lovely,” she said at last to break the awkward silence. “You grew up here?”

The butler, growing impatient now, gave a little cough.

“Barnett, why don't you take the lady's coat? Inform my brother that we're to have a guest for dinner.”

“I'm not dressed for dinner.” She shrugged out of her coat, feeling suddenly awkward in the simple emerald frock she'd worn all afternoon. “I didn't plan to stay.”

“But you've traveled a bit. You don't mean to head right back to Thornbrook?”

She shook her head. “I've no idea. I didn't really plan much at all. I saw my chance to get away and I took it. I suppose I should explain.”

A beautiful woman with golden hair pinned into a chignon stepped into the hall. Julia? Alice hadn't even thought that Logan might have reconciled with his first love. Of course, that would explain why he couldn't say good-bye, and why he'd left Thornbrook in such a hurry. Perhaps they'd met again when he'd come to visit his brother and somehow it all came together for them at last.

“Logan?” the beauty said. “Are we to have company?”

Heat rushed to Alice's cheeks. “I see now. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. Just call the butler back and I'll ring for a car…”

“What are you going on about, Alice? Let me introduce you to my family, please.” He took her by the arm. “Ellen, this is Lady Alice. Lady Alice, this is my sister-in-law, Ellen, the Baroness Emsbury.”

Ellen. His sister-in-law. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Call me Ellen, please, Alice. We're not very formal here at Stratton Place, all present appearances aside.” She gestured to her gorgeous gown of pale yellow silk dotted with diamond-like crystals. “We're having a dress-up night. We do it now and then when the children join us for dinner instead of eating in the nursery. They do enjoy making a fuss.”

“You don't dress for dinner every night?” She looked to Logan.

“We're not quite as elegant as the Thornbrook set, I suppose.” He smiled, then turned to Ellen. “I hope I'm not holding things up. Are the girls ready to go in?”

“They're still with Mrs. Leenders. I can just imagine what delightful princess ensembles they're putting together for us. I know it involves pink tulle. I saw Mrs. Leenders carrying a basketful into their room. They do like to go all out. I think it's important to indulge their imaginations, don't you?” Ellen turned to Alice.

“Yes, of course. My sister was the princess in our house. I went through a phase in which I was determined to be a pirate. I wanted to come to dinner in trousers tucked into boots and with a red silk cape and a patch over one eye, but Mother absolutely refused to allow it. I'm still suffering from the effects of deprivation.” She mocked a swoon.

“Don't let her fool you, Ellen. Alice has never been deprived in her life. She wouldn't allow it.” Winthrop laughed, a sound all too rare to hear at Thornbrook Park. Was she to believe that he was both relaxed
and
jovial in his own home?

She felt out of sorts, uncertain of what to do or say. Her head felt right. It wasn't that she was still ailing. Perhaps if she'd dressed appropriately…

“Alice, come with me.” Ellen held out her hand. “We're about the same size. Who says grown women can't have a little fun with dress-up?”

“Oh, no need to trouble. I don't plan to intrude—”

Logan took her other hand. “Alice, you're a welcome guest at Stratton Place, never an intrusion. I would be honored for you to join us at dinner. Afterward, we can talk.”

She didn't want to be rude. If Ellen was anything like Sophia, she had closets full of gowns, more than enough to happily share. “Thank you. I
would
like to freshen up.”

“I'll be waiting with John in the drawing room.”

“John is your husband?” Alice asked once they were upstairs. “Logan's brother?”

Ellen nodded. “I can't tell you how pleased John is with Logan's return. We missed him terribly. And of course, John is still weak from having been sick and welcomes Logan's advice on running the estate.”

“There's no one better at management than Logan. Lord Averford has had a trying time doing without him these past few weeks.” Alice wondered at Logan staying away so long with such a warm and welcoming family missing him at Stratton Place. She wished they'd had time to talk alone before dinner, but she supposed it would take Sophia at least a day to figure out that Alice wasn't in London and catch up to her. They would have their chance.