Page 17 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
Jacob nodded, wondering why it was that such a brief glimpse of her did more to bring an uneven stutter to his heart than any of the fine English ladies that his mother was so quick to foist upon him. “You understand my concern,” he said softly.
Tom nodded. “Indubitably.”
Chapter 11
Alicia deposited her tray in the kitchen where a bevy of servants fussed at filling it, while she went to the sink to pump herself a drink of water. She stood in the kitchen doorway where it was cool, turning over the stranger’s words in her mind.Part of a greater purpose.It was sometimes easy to forget, when one lived so far removed from the reality with which she had grown up.
She glanced around the kitchen, at the tray nearly full of cakes, at the girls by the sink washing up the dishes from dinner, to the other woman rolling out dough to make pastries for morning. She wondered if there was ever a time the kitchen was truly quiet or if there was always activity, things going on behind closed doors on behalf of the great lords and ladies they served.
Another one of the servants saw her standing there and came over, with a shy smile. “I can take the tray back. You have a guest,” she said, nodding toward the door.
Alicia’s eyes widened. “A guest! I am nae the sort to—”
The girl smothered a laugh. “He said he is your father. ‘Wanting to check upon his only daughter in her new employ’,” she said, deepening her voice to better mimic him. She laughed. “Just do not let Marigold catch you at it. Family or not, she is not one to enjoy seeing a lass shirk her duty.”
“Then perhaps I should not…” Alicia began uncertainly, casting an uneasy look out the open door.
“Silly! Me own Da came to do the same when I started here. Let him see you are well enough and he will go home content. It is the way of fathers to want to know their offspring are well taken care of. Besides, ‘tis likely he has been there a while. Do not keep the man out in the cold. I will cover for you if anyone asks.”
Alicia studied the rosy-cheeked girl, with soft blonde curls that peeked out from beneath her cap. “I do not even know your name. How could I possibly…”
“Don’t trouble yerself. Do me a turn someday. I be Tara O’Hanlon. I expect we will be great friends,” the girl replied, with a friendly smile upon her freckled face.
The tray was ready. Tara was there in an instant, already lifting it, pausing to cast a wink in Alicia’s direction before setting off down the hall. It was over and done with so quickly that no one seemed to notice or even care that it was not Alicia herself who had taken it. Alicia blinked and looked around the room. Marigold was nowhere in sight, and everyone else seemed occupied with their own tasks.
What harm can it be?
The question left her uneasy. This was no fatherly visit to express concern, and well she knew it. That he had chanced coming to the kitchen door was at once appalling and frightening in the risk he had taken.
Before she could give herself time to think about it more and thus talk herself out of such folly, Alicia slipped outside into the twilight world that lay just beyond the kitchen door.
With so many guests, there was scarcely a room that had not been lit from within. Nearly every window cast light upon the kitchen gardens, giving them a soft glow. For a moment, Alicia was disoriented until she heard a soft sound from nearby.
“Girl…here!”
She saw the shape of him near the garden gate. Heart in her throat, Alicia hurried over the uneven path, her feet faltering over the unfamiliar cobblestones. He reached for her, drawing her into the darkness where he met her, not with kindness, but a resounding slap across her face.
Alicia’s head snapped back and for a moment she could not see, her gaze too tear-filled as she tried to look past him toward the house where she was sure that someone would have heard. Yet all was quiet here, with only the sounds of the dishes being washed and the thump of dough against the breadboard mingling with the soft voices of the workers about their tasks. “Da…”
“Do you think I do not know?” he asked her.
For a moment she wondered how it was that he could have ascertained that she had spoken with the new Duke, who had proven kind and not the monster she had been led to believe. She opened her mouth to protest this, wanting to explain that there was naught but a few words, that were meaningless, but he continued, giving her a rough shake that caught her by surprise.
Alicia pulled away from him, shaking from fear and anger combined. “I have done nothing wrong.”
“Nor have you done anything right,” he countered, his low voice filled with contempt and a slight slurring of speech that told her he had likely occupied his time waiting with strong spirits. She recoiled from him and would have fled had he not gripped her arm roughly, holding her there against him. “Tell me what you have found out and I will let you go.”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears. Though he could not see her cry in the darkness, she still refused to let them fall, knowing from long experience it would only enrage him further. He had not raised his daughter to be a weak simpering fool, he would say, and punish her twice as hard for the weeping.
Her head snapped up and she met his gaze head on, seeing the dark glitter of his eyes reflecting the light from the house, making them almost seem to glow in the darkness. “I have not had much chance, for they work me hard,” she retorted, feeling the stiffness in her cheek where he had struck her. “There are guests. A ball.”
“Tell me a thing I do not already know. We know the date of the ball, but have you at least the names of those attending?”
Alicia’s mouth opened and closed. Such a simple question and she did not even know this much. Her failure was as stark as the handprint that had to still be visible upon her face. “I do not,” she whispered, and he shook her again, this time hard enough that she could feel her teeth rattling in her head. Angrily she pulled away. This time he let her go.
“What good are you?” he hissed, turning his back on her. “Your brother would be ashamed.”
For a brief, wild and giddy moment, she considered running back to the house but she held her ground. Her brother gave his life for the cause. She stayed, torn and undecided. “I will try. Tonight I will have a chance. I can get into the Duke’s study…” she said, her tone pleading with him to understand.
