Page 18 of The Remarkable Myth of a Nameless Lady
Giving voice now to her plan made it seem foolish. She had no assurance that she would be able to enter the study while the household slept. And had she not seen how busy the kitchen still was at this hour? Did a house this size truly sleep? There was no guarantee she would have any opportunity to do as she wished.
But her father knew nothing of her inner turmoil She could see him nodding, accepting her decision. He turned back toward her, his eyes glittering again in the darkness.Like a serpent’s,she realized.
“Do it then. Have something for me when next I return. I will come in the morning.”
She swallowed hard. “But not like this. It is too risky.”
He laughed at her, the sound harsh and too loud in the quiet of the garden. “Do you take me for a fool, girl? Trust your old father to still have some tricks in his bag. Though you have the right of it. You best go. If any ask, you stepped outside because you were feeling ill. Off with you.”
The glance she gave him was angry and troubled, but she made her way back to the kitchen door all the same, positive she could feel his eyes upon her every step of the way. She paused outside a moment, one hand pressing the cheek that still stung from his slap. There was no lie to her feeling ill, for her stomach was still fair roiling from the encounter.
Marigold was waiting for her as she came through the door. For a moment they stared at each other, Alicia’s hand still pressed to her cheek. “I…I was feeling ill…” she said, hating the way the lie tasted upon her tongue.
Marigold only nodded, half turning away to cover the rising dough on the breadboards, speaking idly, half over her shoulder as she worked. “There are many of us who came to this house that understand that kind of illness. I would suggest you not bring it here into the manor with you.”
There was both commiseration and warning in her words. Alicia swallowed hard, struggling to speak past the lump in her throat. “Yes, Mistress.”
The woman turned toward her briefly, and Alicia saw the quiet sympathy there in the liquid depths. “Do not let a lover take you from the opportunity that you will find here,” she said softly, so that no one else could hear.
“I have no lover!” Alicia exclaimed, her cheeks burning at the insinuation.
“Father, then?” Mistress Marigold’s look was one of pity. “That is worse in some ways. There is nothing more difficult than to break free from the past, and the ties that are intent upon binding you to it.” She shook her head. “Why not get some rest? With a mark such as you wear tonight, you are not fit for service, and there is little enough left here to do.”
“I thank you, Mistress,” Alicia murmured and bobbed a short curtsey before fleeing from the room, not wanting to see the sympathetic stares of the few who remained to finish the cleanup for the night.
Alicia fled from the room, deeply shamed by Mistress Marigold’s kindness. What would the older woman say if she knew her true purpose here? Alicia shuddered. Would she be hanged as a traitor? Worse?
I have an overly vivid imagination. I am doing no harm. How does it hurt anyone here if I do what he asked? What matter is it whether anyone knows which guests are upon the list for the ball? It will be public knowledge soon enough when they show up to attend. And if it satisfies my father…
Alicia touched her cheek again, tracing the outline of the welt just beneath her eye.
What if I do not wish to satisfy my father when I have known nothing but kindness here? When has he been kind?
This was a new and startling thought. For a moment she hesitated upon the stair that led to the servant’s quarters, considering what to do. She could continue upstairs, and take to her bed early as she was bid, that she might take her place within the household tomorrow. She could forget this nonsense and instead build a life here. The work was hard, but the servants were not badly treated.
Or I can do what I was bid to do.And earn not only the pride of her father, but that of the Ribbonmen. She would honor her brother.
Alicia’s cheek no longer stung. There were some things worth fighting for. Worth dying for. If she could not believe that, then her brother’s life had been lost in vain.
Decision made, she turned around and headed for the Duke’s study. The hour was late. Surely the room would be empty by now.
Chapter 12
There was only so much socializing that a man could do, even among friends. The truth was, Jacob had too many things on his mind to concentrate well on the card games, and was not in much mood for small talk. Though he was relieved that Tom had left upon his mission, Jacob was not adept at waiting. But neither was he being a good host.
Finally, recognizing that perhaps his guests were better entertained by his mother, who held court in the corner of the drawing room where she regaled the newcomers with stories about the trials that came of living in Ireland, Jacob made his excuses with every intent of leaving.
The problem was Owen, who espied him making his escape and cut him off before he could reach the door.
“Brother, it seems you have stolen a march upon Mother’s ball by inviting so many congenial guests. I am impressed by such a bold move, and honored that you would feel the household up to the task of entertaining so many upon such short notice.”
Jacob blinked, for he had not supposed Owen would have learned such fine artistry with words in his absence. To be able to couch an insult with a compliment had always been his mother’s domain. Seeing now the diplomacy with which his brother spoke, and the darker shades of meaning he gave to his words, Jacob became aware that once again he had underestimated his brother.
He smiled now as he addressed Owen, for he had faced down worse adversaries, far more skilled than his brother and three times as deadly, and had still managed to best them all. “I had thought to wait, but with so many enjoying leave at the same time, it seemed fair timing. I had no doubt that I would find Ravencliff ready and waiting for my return. I was told as much by my solicitor.”
“Leave.” Owen’s lip curled in distaste as though he had scented something foul. “I was rather shocked to find those you call your closest confidantes should be nothing more than a motley collection of officers from your command.”
Jacob stiffened. “Given that I have spent the better part of the last few years at sea, I would say that my social circle might have become considerably different than yours. I expect I shall meet your own close acquaintances at Mother’s soiree. Tell me, Brother, how do you find polite society here?”
