An Affair Downstairs (10 page)

After the ride, Ralston tried to beg an invitation to stay by insisting his horse needed a rest. Eager to regain her upper hand, Alice informed him that Averford's groom would care for his horse—predictably named Goliath, as all men seemed to suffer from the need to gift horses with names that implied size—and return him to Holcomb House once rested. Meanwhile, she whistled for Dale, the chauffeur, to give Lord Ralston a ride home.

“Thank you for the lovely afternoon,” she said, seeing him into the car. She thought he might try for a kiss, but she hadn't given him the chance. When he leaned in, she held her hand out and forced him further away.

“Will I see you again? Tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.

She shrugged. “Perhaps later in the week. I'll check my schedule.”

Dale lingered, giving them more chance to talk, until she met his gaze and widened her eyes at him. He got the message, sliding behind the wheel and whisking Lord Ralston away just as she spied Winthrop rounding the last hill. She hadn't spoken with him alone since their kiss. Not that she minded Ralston, but what she wouldn't give for some time alone with Winthrop. She hastened back to the stables in time to greet him on arrival.

“Was everything in order?” she asked, as he reined to a stop and dismounted.

“Lady Alice.” He removed his hat and raked fingers through his dark, damp curls. “Mostly everything was in order, thank you. I hope Lord Ralston was in order as well.”

“He behaved perfectly, if that's what you're asking. A gentleman.”

“I should hope so.”

“You know so. You saw most everything that went on, thanks to Sophia.”

“Most everything. I didn't want to intrude. I tried to give you some privacy.”

“I noticed. Out by the McGinty place? It looked like someone's been working on it. Do you know Lord Averford's plans?”

“Tilly Meadow has become such a success in the past year, doubling profits with the addition of the Cooper family to help Mrs. Dennehy, that Lord Averford and I thought we might put more of the land back to use. Farmers are losing their places all over England. Perhaps we can lure one here.”

“Lure? You sound like you're plotting a trap. It's beautiful out there. I think any farmer would be happy to take over the land and make a home there.”

“There's still work to be done.”

She hazarded a step closer. “Is that where you go when I can't find you? I look for you all the time.”

“You find me quite a bit.” He smiled. “I'm going to have to see to my horse.”

“Grady,” she called out, “please see to Mr. Winthrop's horse. I believe he's wanted inside.”

“I can manage…” He started to protest but Grady had already sent a groom to lead Fergus away.

“There. Now I have you all to myself.” She took his arm and walked with him toward the house, wondering which way to detour so that they wouldn't have to go straight inside. The garden path?

He didn't take his arm back right away. “I'm wanted inside. You said so.”

“You're wanted. I want you, Logan. We have unfinished business.”

“Lady Alice, I told you, no more. In the garden, I lost my mind. With the snow falling and the amount of time I'd spent out in the cold…”

“The cold stripped you of reason? A shame. What were you doing out there? You never told me.”

He looked away. “I was checking Sturridge's work, making sure the walk was safe for midnight amblers.”

“That shouldn't have taken long. Sturridge is thorough in everything he does. I think perhaps you regretted not attending the ball. You came looking for me.”

“You are full of yourself, Lady Alice.” He must have tried to keep a straight face, but the urge to smile overwhelmed him.

“Since you're clearly going to pass up the opportunity to get me alone and take advantage of me, I guess we'd better head back inside.” She dropped his arm and walked a little ahead of him. Once they were at the door, she turned back. “You'll regret this one day, Winthrop.”

They were inside, about to greet Mr. Finch, before she heard his whispered answer. “I already do.”

Lady Alice expected Lord Ralston to visit the next day, but he didn't come calling or send word. Much to her relief, he was absent the next day and the next after that as well. Perhaps he had truly taken offense at the way she'd rushed him off. She began to feel a tad remorseful that she hadn't treated him better. Not that she wanted to marry the man, but it would serve her to have a suitor that she could seduce in the event that Mr. Winthrop never came to his senses.

He would come to his senses, she assured herself. They'd become closer than she'd expected in so short a time. Not very short, she supposed. She had made her home at Thornbrook Park's Dower House for almost two years, though she'd only really been pursuing the man since last summer. What did men do when they were trying to woo ladies? They penned letters or poems. They took them on outings. They sent flowers and bought gifts. Ah, yes. She would buy Mr. Winthrop a gift. Sending flowers was out of the question, since he was around them as much as he could possibly desire and he seemed to prefer them in the ground growing, rather than out in a vase.

What would a man like Winthrop want? He didn't gamble or play cards. He worked almost all of the time. He had a watch, a very fine gold one on a chain that she'd seen him consult from time to time, usually when trying to find an excuse to be rid of her, which hadn't happened as much lately. She would have to think of something, not just anything that anyone could buy, but something to show she cared and paid attention.

But she wasn't supposed to care, she reminded herself. She was supposed to be able to walk away once she'd made her conquest, but Mr. Winthrop had declared them friends. That changed her plans a bit. Friends cared. It still didn't mean they had to marry, even if they had a little something more between them.

“Where's Agatha, and why aren't you dressed for dinner?” her sister asked as soon as Alice entered Sophia's room. Alice, bored and hoping to run into Winthrop, had come to Thornbrook Park in the late afternoon, as she often did.

“It's a little early to be dressed for dinner.” Alice raised a brow. “I thought you would still be napping.”

“Then why did you come if you thought me unavailable? What other reason would you have to be here?”

“Boredom.” Alice threw herself down on her sister's neatly made bed. “What else?”

“You wouldn't be bored if you had a husband.” Sophia dismissed Alice to turn back to her own reflection at the dressing table. She patted a puff of powder on her thin, straight nose.

Though she'd never wanted to be the beauty of the house, Alice had to admit that she still harbored some jealousy for the perfection of Sophia's nose. Alice's nose had a slight bump on the bridge, not to mention a smattering of freckles, and it turned up a smidge at the tip. She propped up on her elbows. “You're bored, and you have a husband. Or why else would you be playing with powders and spending so much time worrying over my marital prospects?”

“It's my duty to see you comfortably settled.” She didn't bother to turn around, but Alice could see Sophia's reflection staring back from the mirror.

“Why not see Agatha comfortably settled? She's older and could use more help. Wouldn't it be lovely to see Agatha find true love at last?”

“At her age? I think she's a little past her prime.”

Alice sat up and shrugged. “I don't know. There's probably a lonely old man out there somewhere. Agatha is nothing if not interesting. Do you know she's had lovers?”

With that news, Sophia actually turned around in her chair. “No! Agatha?”

“She says she has had quite a few. It's why she never married. She was ruined before the age of eighteen. A Lord Potters-something-or-other whisked her away to elope, but never married her. Then she rattled off a list of men who came after him.”

“A list of men?” Sophia's jaw dropped. “I had no idea. I'm astonished. Truly amazed. Aunt Agatha! I thought she'd been left on the shelf.”

“So did I, but apparently not. I wonder if it's why Father finds her so objectionable.”

“I always thought it was her dabbling in the spirit world, but perhaps you're right. Perhaps it was her promiscuity. It's a wonder Mother let her in the house, let alone around us as impressionable girls.”

Alice felt a sudden pang. “They share the unshakable bond of sisterhood. Would you cast me out if I had an illicit affair?”

She was not encouraged by the fact that Sophia took a minute to answer. “Of course not. You would always be welcome at Thornbrook Park.”

“Thank you.” Alice was greatly relieved when her sister answered as Alice had hoped she would.

“Not that it would ever come to that.” Sophia laughed and turned back to her own image. “You'll be married before you have a chance to create a scandal. Lord Ralston is coming to dinner.”

“Ralston? You didn't tell me. Now I see why you were eager for me to be dressed. You want to see what I'm wearing to have time to make a change in case you don't approve.”

Sophia smiled and did not deny it. “Ralston went out this morning with Gabriel and Lord Holcomb. They'll return when they've shot enough birds. No doubt Lady Holcomb will arrive shortly for tea.”

“Let's send for Agatha. It's always so much more fun to entertain Lady Holcomb when she's trying her best to keep her distance from Aunt Agatha. Perhaps Agatha can bring her tarot deck.”

“You are incorrigible, Alice.”

“So I've been told.”

***

At her sister's insistence, Alice wore a black satin skirt that gave her the appearance of a tiny nipped-in waist, paired with a low-cut ivory lace blouse draped in translucent cranberry silk. The overall effect flattered her figure, enhancing her meager bosom so that she hardly recognized herself, but she liked what she saw. Sophia's maid piled Alice's hair on her head in a mass of russet curls.

“For the finishing touch.” Sophia handed her a tube of lip rouge.

“Oh, I don't think so.” Alice waved her off.

“Trust me. He won't be able to resist you.” Sophia meant Lord Ralston, of course, but Alice imagined Mr. Winthrop finding himself inexplicably drawn to her.

“All right.” She sighed. “And perhaps a necklace. Do you have one I could borrow? Maybe the garnet?”

“No necklace. It will become an unnecessary distraction. Perhaps a bracelet.” She gestured to Alice's bare neck and shoulders, and bowed her head to look her collection over. Finally, she handed Alice a thick diamond cuff.

After sliding it on her wrist, Alice immediately dropped her hand low, a slight exaggeration. “How much does this thing weigh?”

Sophia shrugged. “It was a gift from Lord Averford to make up for one of our arguments last summer.”

There'd been so many that Alice doubted her sister could pinpoint the exact one.

“I hope you forgave him appropriately.”

“Alice.” Sophia shook her head. “You have much to learn about marriage.”

Sophia's maid laughed. “I think Lady Alice has it right. Perhaps one day soon, she'll be handing advice to you.”

Sophia pursed her lips in disapproval. “That will be all, Mrs. Jenks.”

Jenks's eyes widened with the realization that she'd overstepped her bounds. She curtsied quickly and left the room.

“Shall we?” Sophia asked. Alice nodded and followed her sister.

Alice's heart picked up speed when she noticed Mr. Winthrop among the gentlemen when she reached the drawing room. He stood facing her, in conversation with another man. When he caught sight of her, his eyes lit with a purely sexual charge she could feel clear across the room. His companion must have noticed, because he turned to see what had occasioned such a response. It was Lord Ralston. Alice stifled a wave of panic. What must the two of them have to say to each other? She ignored them and found her place among the ladies.

Aunt Agatha, wearing her favored canary and blue, regaled them with the tale of the poltergeist, and how that playful spirit had taken and finally returned her gown. Lady Holcomb's hands shook with what Alice supposed might be terror.

“Surely, you misplaced the gown,” Lady Holcomb said, her voice wavering.

“Misplaced? I always hang it in the same spot. It was there in the morning and gone by afternoon. Tell them, Alice. You saw it, too.”

“I saw that the gown was gone, yes. And Agatha told me she found it sometime later, hanging right where it was supposed to be.”

“A poltergeist. I've never heard of such a thing. But I do believe I've had some items go missing through the years. I've always blamed the maid.” Lady Holcomb gripped her long string of beads tightly, probably to stop the shaking.

“They're tricky little spirits,” Agatha explained. “I tend to think they're the ones who have died young, perhaps in the teen years. No malevolence, all play. I've researched the family history, and I believe this one could be young George. He supposedly drowned in a vat of wine when he fell in trying to sneak a taste.”

“Horrible,” Lady Holcomb muttered. “Simply horrible. His poor mother.”

Sophia put an end to Agatha's storytelling. “Let's go in.”

“Aren't we waiting for the Thornes?” Alice asked.

“They're in London. Eve had a meeting with her publisher.”

As if on cue, the gentlemen approached to lead them in, but Alice was chagrined to see that Winthrop was no longer among them.

“No nursemaid for you tonight, Lady Alice.” Ralston offered his arm. “I have you all to myself.”

“To yourself in a crowded dining room. I believe I'm quite safe.”

“Exactly where I want you, feeling safe so that you'll let your guard down.” He smiled.

“I'm ever on my guard, Lord Ralston. What did you mean by my ‘nursemaid'?”

“That fellow Winthrop. The one your sister sent to follow us. He couldn't stay for dinner. He has business to attend. The man says we're due for snow. A storm. It seemed perfectly clear outside to me.”

“The temperatures have dropped. It has been very cold these past few days.” She tried to appear completely disinterested in Winthrop. “I'm surprised I haven't seen you. I thought you meant to make a nuisance of yourself.”

He helped her into a chair. “Exactly why I haven't been around. You seemed all too eager to be rid of me after our ride, and I wanted to give you a chance to miss me. Did you?”

“I probably shouldn't confess that I did.” It wasn't a lie. With Winthrop keeping himself scarce, she'd been bored. She hadn't realized just how much she'd come to rely on the estate agent's companionship. “Did you find it easy to stay away?”

“I filled my time with activities so I wouldn't be bad company to my aunt and uncle. No one likes a morose lover.” Their conversation was temporarily halted as he found his seat across the table.

“A shame about the Thornes,” Lady Holcomb said. “I always enjoy their company.”

“Jilting us for London.” Sophia shuddered at mention of London. She hated the place. “I hope it's productive for them.”

“I do look forward to her next book.” Lady Holcomb reached for her wineglass.

“She couldn't put the last one down,” Lord Holcomb said. “I begged her, ‘Darling, come to bed.' She would always answer, ‘But one last page.'”

Alice looked across the table to find Lord Ralston's gaze trained on her.

“It was quite a romantic story.” Lady Holcomb blushed. “I do like a good romance. Speaking of romance, my nephew has been spending quite a lot of time at the Furbish estate. Is it their horses you find so fascinating, Harry, or is it the company?”

Lady Matilda Furbish, age eighteen, was pretty enough, Alice supposed, though she had never seemed very bright when Alice had spoken with her. Perhaps Ralston was hoping to make Alice miss him after all. She arched a brow in his direction.

“The horses, of course, Aunt. As you know, I'm making a fair number of changes at Kenterly. I would like to add to the stables. Lord Furbish has some fine stallions, but I was looking for a gentle mare suitable for a lady to ride.”

“Ridiculous,” Alice declared. “Do you imagine that a lady can't manage a fiery stallion?”

“I doubt I could if I were expected to ride sidesaddle. I don't fault the women riding, but the style in which they are forced to ride.”

She nodded. “You make a good point. It does make riding a challenge.”

“Why, Alice, I'm astonished.” Lord Averford paused, fork in air, before diving into his trout. “I don't think I've ever heard you concede an argument so easily. Not even a counterpoint for Lord Ralston here?”

Sophia coughed into her napkin. Alice suspected she might have kicked her husband under the table. “Alice is a very agreeable girl. She has such a good nature.”

“This Alice?” Lord Averford went on. “Are you mad? Alice is—” Ah, that must have been the kick. Averford recoiled. “Very sweet. Of course. Yes. I must have been thinking of someone else.”

“The Furbish girl, Lady Matilda, she is the best-natured young woman I've had the pleasure to meet. Such manners. They came to dinner twice this past week, and each time I found her more agreeable than the last. I daresay you noticed her, too, Harry?” For the second time, Lady Holcomb seemed to go out of her way to push Matilda Furbish as a match for Lord Ralston. Alice began to wonder what Lady Holcomb had against her.

“She's a lovely girl,” Ralston acknowledged, his gaze trained on Alice. “But she's so young yet. I believe she's lacking the kind of irrepressible spirit and confidence that a woman gains with age and experience.”

“Lady Alice,” Averford observed, “I believe Ralston has just called you old.”

Again, Lord Averford jumped a little in his seat. Sophia narrowed her eyes in her husband's direction. Alice wondered if her brother-in-law might soon be in the market for another bracelet. “I'm beginning to miss the Thornes myself,” he said. “I can usually count on my brother to say the wrong thing before I do.”