Before The Scandal (22 page)

“Fetch me a peppermint tea,” her aunt said, returning to her correspondence.

“I’ll have it brought to you,” her son commented, backing out of the doorway and leading the way toward the stairs. “Saunders, have a cup of peppermint tea brought to Mrs. Donnelly.”

“Yes, my lord. Right away.” With a bow the butler left the foyer.

“Come along, Alyse.” Richard gestured for her to follow him as he ascended the stairs to the first floor.

“I don’t know anything yet, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she blurted. “I only had breakfast to see him, and you saw how quickly he left. The—”

“I know, I know. No worries.”

He left the stairs, walking down the west wing of the house where the bedchambers were. Uneasiness rippled through her. Richard had never shown any…amorous inclinations toward her, but if he was the villain Phin claimed he was, she supposed he could be expected to do anything. If he attempted an assault, though, he would discover that she hadn’t been cowed quite as much as he thought.

When he stopped in front of one of the guest rooms, her pulse quickened, and she hung back from him. “What’s this?” she asked, clenching her fists, ready to fight or flee.

“It occurred to me that offering a lofty prize for something is well and good, but it’s rather…intangible.” He reached back and turned the handle, opening the bedchamber door. “Come in.”

“I—”

“My mother has your old room,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, “but this one has a nice view of the garden and the meadow. What do you think?”

Frowning and cautious, Alyse followed him into the room. And stopped. All of her things were there—such as they were. Her mirror, her bedstand and quilt, mingled with the furniture already placed in the room. “What—”

“It’s yours, if it pleases you. Your new room. Do you like it?”

“I…yes, I like it,” she stammered. “But…why?”

“Call it an…advance. A gesture of trust.” He started out of the room, then snapped his fingers and faced her again. “I nearly forgot. Mary will be assuming your duties with my mother, and she will be assisting you, as well. And I’ve instructed the grooms that the mare Snowbird is to be for your particular use.”

Alyse felt her mouth hanging open, and she belatedly snapped it closed. “This is, ah, very nice,” she said slowly, unwilling to relinquish her suspicions entirely. “But…what if it should come to pass that I can’t prove anything about Phin? What if he isn’t The Frenchman?”

Richard smiled, one hand on the door. “Then you will look back at your room in the attic and but wish it could be yours again. Have a rest. Enjoy your day.” Softly he closed the door behind him, leaving her alone.

She stared at the door for a minute. His threat had left a great deal to the imagination, but she understood it. If she didn’t or couldn’t do as he asked, what came afterward would be worse than anything she’d yet experienced.

As she sat heavily on the bed, she noticed that it was much softer and fuller than the one in the attic room. Logically she didn’t have to lose these unexpected gifts; Phin
wanted
her to give his secret to Richard. If it meant his arrest, though, she wasn’t certain she could do it. It could cost him his life.

On the other hand, the unnamed things that were worse than an attic room could kill her. No home at all? Life on the streets of London? If her own family threw her out, no one would hire her as a governess or a companion. And the money she had to hand would only be enough to delay the inevitable, not prevent it.

She wanted to think that an alliance with Phin would help her, but she wasn’t willing to wager her future on the idea of him abandoning the military for her sake. Alyse lay back on her new bed. If Phin had never returned home, none of this would have happened. She would still be in the attic, but she wouldn’t have to worry about wintering in Covent Garden somewhere. She would have had the time she needed to make her escape on her own terms.

If she thought about it logically, then Richard was attempting to intimidate her. Did that mean he suspected that her loyalties had strayed? Or was he so desperate for the answer he wanted that he would push her to lie in order to get it? Hm. It helped, to look at this as a problem that could be solved rather than as a threat to her continued…what, happiness?

Except that she was happy now because Phin was home. She’d always relished his friendship, and had been angry when his actions, as well as her parents’ warnings, had driven them apart. But now it was more than friendship. He felt like a part of her life. An important part. She wondered whether a share of ten thousand pounds could convince him to stay.

She could always ask him, she supposed. And somehow she needed to inform him that she was in a different room now before he came calling in the middle of the night and found her gone. Mary would have her attic room now, and that would be awkward. She stifled an unexpected smile.

Sitting up again, she looked out her window in time to see Richard riding off in the direction of Quence. So she could sit alone in her bedchamber and wish she could talk to Phin, or she could do something that might help him. He’d looked through Richard’s office, he’d said, but that had been in the dark, and he’d obviously not had much time. She would have at least an hour.

If she was going to be thrown out of Donnelly House, it should at least be for something she’d done—not because she’d been unable or unwilling to take any action in this at all. Ignoring the hard, fast beating of her heart, Alyse stood and went to her door, then headed downstairs.

In the morning room she could hear Aunt Ernesta complaining to someone about a lack of gratitude and getting a swelled head, so she assumed herself to be the target. The fact that for the first time in almost two years she didn’t have to sit and listen to it, though, was heavenly. If this was only a temporary reprieve and her life would return to the attic, she had this one thing for which to be grateful. She touched her lips as she slipped into Richard’s office. She had more than one thing.

Silently she closed the door behind her. Where in the world had Phin been hiding last night? When her father had used this room it had been pleasantly cluttered, but now it was spotless. The only hiding place at all seemed to be under the desk. Heavens. He’d been that close, and she and Richard had never known it. Clearly he hadn’t stayed alive through ten years of war by chance or by luck. Phin knew his business, and he knew it well.

Later, Alyse
, she reminded herself, and sat at the desk. Slowly, careful to be silent, she pulled open the drawers one by one and looked through them. If her cousin caught her at this, she wouldn’t have the chance to sleep a single night in her new bedchamber.

Nothing. Pursing her lips, she went to the bookcase behind her. Books on Bath and Roman history, the almanac, various books on planting and on architecture. Most of the farming books had belonged to her father, but the other ones must have been put there by Richard.

Her cousin did seem to have an obsession with Roman baths. First he’d gone all aflutter nearly two years ago when she’d mentioned that Quence Park had the ruins there. And then when he’d decided to reside at Donnelly Park rather than at Halfens in Devon, he’d mentioned his wish to see the ruins almost on a daily basis.

Alyse froze. It had just been a keen interest. Certainly Richard hadn’t intended anything sinister when he’d settled himself and his mother here. This hadn’t happened because she’d mentioned the bath ruins to him back when she’d resided with her horrid Great-Aunt Stevens in Hereford. Back when he’d first decided that she should be companion to his mother.

She shook her head, placing the books back on the shelf. No, no, no. It was merely a coincidence. The move here had had nothing to do with her, and nothing to do with anything on Quence property.

But did she want to tell Phin about these coincidences? He would certainly wish to know. If they weren’t mere happenstance, however, then this could be her fault. The troubles at Quence, even Phin’s return. She closed her eyes for a moment. If she’d caused Phin’s return, she couldn’t precisely regret it. Not that.

“I’ll fetch her, my lord,” came Mary’s voice, followed by the sound of someone hurrying up the stairs.

Oh, good heavens. Richard couldn’t be home already.
Blast it.
With a quick check to make certain she’d left the office tidy, Alyse inched open the door and peered into the hallway. She could just make out the foyer…and Lord Anthony Ellerby standing there.

There was absolutely no way she could leave the office without him seeing her. Alyse shut the door again and turned around. The window. Hurrying over, she unlatched it and pushed the heavy thing open.

Not taking the time to wonder if she could actually make it or not, she hiked her bottom onto the sill and swung her legs over. She pushed off and dropped to the ground. By reaching up she could just touch the bottom of the opened-out glass, and she shoved at both sides hard. With a creak they swung closed. It wasn’t perfect, but it would serve for the moment.

Alyse hiked up her skirts and ran for the front of the house. Then she slowed and walked as calmly as she could up the front steps and pushed open the door. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Lord Anthony! I was out walking in the garden. I had no idea you’d arrived.”

With a smile, the light-haired duke’s grandson took her fingers and bowed over them. “I’m only pleased you’re here.”

“I’m afraid Richard has gone out riding with your sister and Beth Bromley.”

“I know. I was wondering if I might persuade
you
to go riding with
me
.”

Alyse covered her quick frown. Did Lord Anthony know that she’d been granted some freedom? If he was part of this, perhaps he was to attempt to charm her after Richard had delivered his threats. Well, she could ask her own questions while she avoided answering his. “I would be delighted,” she said. “Let me go upstairs and change.”

“I’ll attempt to entertain your aunt while I wait,” he returned with his open smile.

Halfway up the stairs she nearly crashed into Mary, and put out her hands to stop herself. “Goodness.”

“I was looking for you, miss,” the maid said with a nervous curtsy.

“I was out in the garden. You should go see to Mrs. Donnelly before she becomes impatient.”

Mary gave her a pained smile. “Thank you, miss.”

So she’d earned some freedom, however temporary it might be, at another’s expense. If she ended up receiving ten thousand pounds, she decided right then, Mary was coming away from this place with her. And so was Saunders the butler.

Her clothes had also been moved into her new quarters, and though they hadn’t been made more fashionable by their trip down the stairs, she found that she minded their dated appearance a bit less. Swiftly she buttoned up the front of her sea-green riding dress, stomped into her boots, and hurried down the stairs again.

Lord Anthony was listening to a diatribe on joint stiffness when she swept into the room. “All ready,” she said, smiling a little because she knew Aunt Ernesta wouldn’t like her leaving the house without having first asked permission.

“Take a groom with you, for heaven’s sake,” her aunt said, scowling. “If you ruin yourself a second time, no one will wish anything to do with any of us.”

Alyse settled for nodding, rather than pointing out that she had been ruined several times by Phin Bromley. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Yes, go. Ungrateful girl.”

Winston saddled the white mare Snowbird and helped her up into the sidesaddle. She thought the mare had been purchased as a gift for Beth, but apparently hers weren’t the only plans that were changing. After the head groom arrived outside the stable on another horse, Anthony gestured her to take the lead down the path that wound alongside the small lake.

“You ride well,” he said after a minute, drawing even with her, while Winston fell in a good twenty yards behind. Goodness, it had only taken four years for her to warrant a regular chaperon again.

“Thank you. Until a few weeks ago, I hadn’t had the opportunity to ride in quite some time.”

“You’ve had a great deal of misfortune fall your way, haven’t you, Alyse?”

“Some,” she acknowledged, keeping in mind that they were both probably looking for information. “And some kindnesses, too.”

“You mean Richard, taking you in.”

“Yes.”

“Have you thought about your future if Richard should ask for Elizabeth Bromley’s hand?”

She knew what he meant; Beth would become the mistress of the household, and would likely become the companion of choice for Richard’s mother. Poor Beth. That wasn’t Lord Anthony’s point, however. “I’m certain Richard would find a place for me in his household,” she lied. “We are family, after all.”

“Of course. Is it a place you would wish, however?”

Alyse looked over at him, tall and straight on his pretty bay hunter. “Why are you asking me this, my lord?”

“Anthony, please. We’ve become friends, don’t you think?”

Not by her definition of friendship. “Yes, we have. Anthony, then.”