“There must be a dozen of them!” she cried, getting to her feet, a rapturous smile upon her face as she eyed the uniforms with their bright buttons and gleaming swords. They had arrived decked out in their finest, and quite a picture they made, riding out in front of the carriages on steeds every bit as polished as their riders.
There were rather a lot of them now that he thought about it. “If this interferes with your ball…” he started hopefully.
“Nonsense!” She turned toward him, hands clasped eagerly at her bosom. “In fact, this will make this ball the talk of the county. Of course, we might need to ask a few more ladies to make up the numbers, but we will adjust. Finola!” she raised her voice to shout for her companion, who burst through the door, her eyes wide with fear. “Come, we have much work to do!”
“And your headache?” Jacob asked, unable to resist poking fun at her at least a little bit.
His mother stared at him as if he were stark raving mad. “Nonsense. I do not have time for a headache. Can you not see we have guests arriving? There are chambers that will need to be aired, fresh linen…Finola, are you listening? Hurry, we have only moments to arrange everything before we must greet our guests!”
Jacob watched her go with a sort of perverse satisfaction. Let her fuss over his guests, there would be enough there to keep her busy for days to come. In the meantime, he had one very specific person to find. While he’d fussed at not having Tom at his side to act as his valet and personal steward, the truth was the man was the best intelligence officer in the British Navy. And right now, he needed several questions answered.
Allies indeed.
Chapter 9
Jacob paced the room, far too angry to sit. “Tom, I have not accomplished a thing here since I have arrived. Instead, I am cooped up in this study poring over old books, when there are matters that are surely more pressing than how much wool we sold last year at market.” He gestured wildly at the piles of musty books upon the desk, as though he expected them to leap out and attack him somehow.
Tom was trying hard not to laugh. The corners of his lips twitched, something that could be blamed on his annoying good humor which had proved invaluable in Jacob’s first command. That lightness had eased the burden of a command in perilous waters and reminded him that laughter sometimes helped, where otherwise he might have despaired.
What victories I have had, what honors I have been given, I would not have earned without Tom to see me through. It would do me good to remember that, he reminded himself now as he felt, not for the first time, the irritation of knowing he was entirely in the wrong.
Jacob threw himself down in the chair opposite the other man, knowing full well he was sulking. “You may as well indulge in your cackling now and be done with it,” he muttered. “It seems I am complaining about there being no more wars for me to fight.”
“Maybe battles of a different sort,” Tom said, with a knowing smirk. “In the last half hour you have given me fair little to go on as to just what you find so annoying. The books will fall under my purview if you prefer it. Did you not bring me here to act as your personal steward? I am more than a valet for your wardrobe. Though heaven only knows you can use the help.”
“You can remove your eyes from my cravat. I have had quite enough criticism in that regard for one day,” Jacob said sourly. “I swear, Tom, I allow you too much familiarity.”
“It will be hard to break myself of the habit, though I expect I can no longer refer to you as my Captain.” “Shall I call you Your Grace?” Tom asked.
Jacob scowled. “When you refer to me at all, you devil. You deliberately go out of the way to avoid any title you can while we talk, treating as us equals.”
“Need I remind you, we are not that dissimilar in social standing, the only true difference being that your father managed to leave you both title and estate and mine managed to lose his fortune at the gaming tables before his death.” Tom replied with a certain equanimity of one who had long grown used to his situation.
“It was your cousin that inherited the title, was it not? It seemed a strange choice.” Jacob said, eying his friend with a hint of speculation. “I have long wondered how it was that came about.”
“I should keep the secret just that I might have something to hold over you,” Tom said and snickered. “It is not truly anything glamourous. For whatever reason, my father was positive that I was not his offspring, though he never came out and accused my poor mother in so many words. Though he made it all quite clear in his actions.”
Jacob’s eyes widened. “And here I thought my own family situation was complicated. It explains much, though. Your father still saw fit for you to be educated properly.”
That had, in fact, been a point of many hours of discussion aboard ship during the long quiet periods where they lay waiting for one thing or another. Jacob had been fascinated to find that the man assigned as his steward had attended the same schools he had, only a few years behind him. It was part of what made Tom an excellent man to send into difficult situations.
Jacob leaned back in his chair, staring thoughtfully into the distance, not seeing Tom or even the room around him, but instead the village he’d passed through on the way to Ravencliff. “Do you remember that time off the coast of France, the little port…I forget the name now. The one where the wharf was nearly hidden in that little bay?”
“I know the one,” Tom said, leaning forward in his own chair, resting his elbows upon the knees. He named the town, his French flawless. “That one, you mean?”
“I do. I sent you ashore to reconnoiter the situation. I swear you had the villagers fairly well convinced you were one of their own. You have that gift about you, that allows you to blend in.”
“I have a gift for languages. The rest is a lot of what the Irish call blarney, I believe,” Tom said with a look of sharp interest. “You have a similar mission in mind?”
“Possibly.” Jacob got to his feet and used a poker to bring the fire up again, to take the chill off the room while he thought how to word his request. “You are as of yet an unknown entity. Other than a few among the guests who know your true nature, this is no one within this household that knows your position here. It puts us in a unique position of perhaps being able to collect some information.”
It was Tom’s turn to be surprised. “You think your brother has been less than forthcoming about the estate?”
“I am sure he has, but that is not what concerns me right now. There was an incident when I arrived here that I have not been able to see to. A man, the father of one of the maids here, actually, rather questioned my authority very publicly, stopping just short of calling me out entirely.” Jacob added another piece of wood to the fire though it didn’t need it. “I want to know more about him.”
“Why not just ask the maid? Or is it…like that? Or…not?” It was Tom’s turn to scramble to his feet, namely because Jacob had whirled on him. “Good God, Captain, I am entirely unarmed!”
Jacob lowered the poker, staring at it in surprise for he had raised it without thinking, using it much as he would his rapier. “My apologies, Tom. I am unsure what came over me.”
“I would say it was more of a ‘who’ than a ‘what’ but given your reaction on my last statement of the sort, I think I will keep my opinions to myself henceforth,” Tom muttered, his face pale.
“I barely know the girl,” Jacob said, hanging the poker with the rest of the fireplace tools. “It is the father that concerns me. I have let too much time pass in dillydallying about the estate when I should have offered retribution for the slight, but at the time it seemed there was little I could do. He had not broken any law, nor do I truly have authority there.”
“As a Duke, I should think you have quite a bit of pull within the village,” Tom pointed out, shifting a trifle uneasily as Jacob again paced the room.
“I am not entirely sure that I do,” Jacob answered, a touch more honestly than he would have otherwise. “Besides, of what
could I accuse the man? He as much as defied me outright without coming out and saying the words. There was a group with him, an unsavory lot who cared little that he heaped abuse on the girl—”
Tom perked up at this. “What girl? Do you mean the maid? Oh ho, the plot thickens!”
Jacob shot him a look. “I have told you it has nothing whatsoever to do with the girl, but with her father. There was something in the encounter that has been bothering me. I would be interested to see what you could find out. They have no fondness for the British here. But whether or not they harbor conspiracies, I do now know.”
“Irish, eh? It might be good to slip in from another point of entry altogether. The port itself, perhaps?” Tom’s face took on a thoughtful expression. “If you give me leave to handle this in my own way without interference, I might be able to. It might take some time, though. A few days at best. Especially if I have no idea what it is I am looking for.”
Jacob stopped at the window, though it was impossible to see out now that it was dark, with the fire behind him. “Take the time you need. So long as no one sees you leave the manor. I want utmost secrecy on this.”
Tom frowned a little. “You truly think there is something more to this than some drunken lout making statements emboldened by ale?”
“I wish I knew.” Jacob grimaced. “Something there felt odd. Had it only been the rudeness of the encounter, I might have left it at that. I would have been tempted to have the man brought up on charges and to make an example of him, but for one thing.”
“And what is that?”
Jacob turned and met Tom’s gaze solemnly. “His daughter started to work here the very next day.”
Chapter 10
Alicia watched in frustration as the fine ladies and their escorts left the dining room that they might retire to the parlor. Thus far, in the hours since the arrival of the fourteen extra guests, she had been near run off her feet. First had come the work of unpacking a dozen trunks, and then had come the finding of small items, forgotten in packing, or needed to make the rooms more comfortable. Followed by the necessity of helping the ladies to dress for dinner.
She had thought she would have a moment to herself then, while they dined, during which she could perhaps escape to the Duke’s study as she had originally intended, that she might winnow out his secrets. But her list of tasks had only grown ever longer. No sooner would she finish one thing than she would be given another to do.
She had been caught in the hallway by Lady Lancaster who had needed her to find a pincushion for her room, and then by Lady Nettlefold who had been quite beside herself over a rip of the sleeve of her dress that absolutely must be fixed that moment.
By the time these tasks had been accomplished, the entire assembly was milling about, settling into card games and music. The Duke had stepped into his study with another man, one who had not quite fit with the rest, but of whom the Duke seemed especially fond. To her consternation, it seemed her opportunity had fled, along with her own chance to dine that night.
“Miss…”
Alicia cringed. She was coming to dread the imperious summons. The harsh British accents grated upon her ears. Orders were given in an offhand manner, a rattling off of wants and needs that somehow must be seen to this instant, regardless of the fact that there were others who likewise would task her with their errands.
There had been a time of servants within her own home. Alicia wondered now if she had ever treated those around her so callously, but could not remember. She had been a child then, and servants to her had been her nurse and the cook, who never failed to find an extra piece of cake for the growing girl. Maybe she had been demanding in her own way, but that was the way of children, was it not?
Are these British nothing more than oversized children? It was no wonder that her father and the others despised them so. She hurried about the room, adjusting cushions and lighting, finding a piece of sheet music, and otherwise being useful, all the time wondering if she were perhaps little more than a nursemaid to these squalling invaders who demanded so much for so little in return.
Her resentment grew as the evening wore on. There was nothing to discover here, despite the bright array of uniforms. The men were wrapped up in flirtations and card games. There was nothing of import in their discussion save a commentary regarding the weather and how it would impact sailing conditions.
My father needs more than this, she thought in frustration. But the Duke stayed steadfastly within his study, and even if he had not, there was little she could do to spy out information when she was caught up in freshening cups of tea and replenishing trays of cookies to the ravenous hordes.
“Girl, fetch some more cake things from the kitchen.” This order came from the Duke’s mother, who regarded her critically a moment before adding, “And for goodness’ sake, smile. Such a serious look is very off-putting to our guests.”
The moment she was dismissed, Alicia fled from the room, cheeks flaming. There had been a soft tittering from those nearest who had heard the dressing down. For a moment it had been all she could do to not react, to instead smile and drop her eyes in modest obeisance and murmur, “Yes, Your Grace,” before going to do as she was bid.
But once in the safety of the hall, where she was alone, Alicia could hold back her rage no longer. Smile! She bared her teeth in a wild mimicry of the obedient servant and only just managed to keep from smashing the empty serving tray in her arms into the wall, though she swung it around wildly as though she would throw it, before catching it back against her chest, realizing what folly it would be to give vent to her feelings so fully.
“Whatever that tray has done to you, I suggest you allow it to apologize before you batter it beyond recognition. I am sure it meant no true offense.”
The voice came from the tall man with brown hair and laughing eyes that Alicia had seen retire with the Duke. He stood behind her, having just left the study, whose door was securely closed behind him.
For a moment Alicia stared, wondering if the Duke was still within, if he had seen her wild tantrum. “I…I am most sorry…” she stammered, her cheeks flaming as brilliantly as her hair if the heat level was any indication.
But the stranger only laughed. “I, too, have had moments where I could not hold in my feelings another moment. It is not always easy to be in service to those around you, especially if you are not accustomed to it.”
Alicia reeled back as if struck. “I hardly think you have any right to speak to me in such a familiar manner, especially in regards to things you could not possibly know about.”
He regarded her solemnly. “On the contrary, I have served for many years now, to men not near so well-born as myself. I have had to let go my pride and accept that I am where I am now perhaps as part of a greater purpose. And that while my beginnings might have been much different from the position I hold now in my life, that I would do well to remember that such things hold little importance to those around me. The past is the past. We must instead live in the present.”
“Is it so evident as all that?” she asked, the tremble in her voice betraying the emotion still so near the surface.
“The frustration is very familiar. It will get better, though, I can promise you that.” He smiled suddenly and so inviting was his expression that she could not help but smile with him. “Have faith. The Duke will make a fine master of this household, and your position will be secure so long as you keep from doing murder with that tea tray in your hand. Now, chin up! What is your duty, miss?”
She laughed then for it seemed impossible not to. “I must be off to fetch more cakes for the group. In a manner that is more pleasing to the guests.”
The stranger laughed with her. “Speaking as a guest, I find your manner charming. Now off to it. I will delay you no longer.” With that he made a shooing motion with his hands that left her chuckling as she headed back toward the kitchen.
Maybe he had a point. She needed to accept where she was now and focus on the wo
rk at hand. It was obviously impossible to do any investigating now, while the guests were out and about. Rather, she would wait until later. It would be a simple matter to explore the house once the guests were abed for the night. It was all a matter of biding her time.
That decided, Alicia needed to call less attention to herself right now, instead of more. A dutiful servant would bring the cakes, and smile as she did so. There was no room for resentment if she were going to succeed in her mission.
I can do this. My father…all of them are counting upon me to do so.
* * *
Tom watched Miss Price go, with a thoughtful expression upon his face. Behind him the door opened. Jacob joined him in the hall.
“I suspect I have just met your Irish lass,” Tom said, as they stared thoughtfully at the distant figure as she disappeared around a corner. “And unless I miss my guess, she is not what she seems.”
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