by Gill, Tamara
"It is I who is honored. I'm happy to be here, meeting you all and supporting the children on their journeys to adulthood. While my time here in England may be short, my support of this orphanage will be lifelong. I promise you that."
The young headmistress fumbled for a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes. "You are truly a gift from the angels, Your Highness. Please," she gestured into a nearby room where Alessa could see a tea tray and some biscuits awaited them, "come through into the sitting room. The children have a special performance arranged for you to watch if you're willing."
Alessa started toward the room. "I am very willing indeed. Let us begin, shall we?"
"Indeed," Miss Winters stated, rallying the children for the short concert.
Alessa smiled, enjoying her time at the orphanage, knowing that with her privilege, she would make a difference to these children's lives and those still yet to walk through the doors.
Chapter 16
She settled on the only cushioned chair in the sitting room. The other teachers were a little shocked at her presence, but welcoming nonetheless. Alessa was used to this kind of attention, and while when she was within the ton, it was displayed less than with the general populace, it was still a condition of her birthright that she had come to accept as normal and commonplace.
She was a princess, had abundant wealth and privilege, but she could not keep it all for herself. Her uncle had been greedy, had tried to steal what was not his, have everything for himself and nothing for anyone else. Not even the people of Atharia.
Alessa and her sisters were not so inclined. However, her being here today, her monetary support, and her presence would help this orphanage give every child a better start in life. Help them to succeed so they could break the poor, undereducated cycle they had been born into.
The performance was a little play about friendship, how to help others when alone and scared. A positive message to those watching that she knew had been written to represent what she was doing for them. Their gratitude, their sweet little smiles as they took their bows, was the best gift she had ever received in her life.
Alessa stood, clapping. "Thank you all so much. What a wonderful group of children you are. I enjoyed the performance very much."
The headmistress looked like she was going to burst with pride. "There is a special lunch in the hall, children. I hope you enjoy what Princess Alessa has organized for you all today."
The children squealed and ran from the room, some tripping over in their haste to leave. The headmistress turned to Alessa. "We shall dine on a table in the hall with the children, if that is suitable, Your Highness. We can discuss any concerns or suggestions for your charity during our meal or in my office afterward. The children will be so distracted by the feast that I do not think they will be overly concerned about what we speak," she suggested.
Alessa followed the headmistresses out into the hall, which too needed repair. Old, faded wallpaper had started to peel from the wall, the floor requiring several new boards as some appeared rotten. Multiple windows had little bolts of cloth pushed into holes to stop drafts. She sat in a chair at a small table that had been covered in a white cloth, but even Alessa could see the table leg had once been broken, and the chairs they sat upon did not look sturdy enough to hold anyone upright for long.
"Again, Your Highness, we cannot express our gratitude enough for you being here. We have tried for several years to gain a patron or patroness willing to help us keep the children schooled and clothed. It is very hard, as a lot have been surrendered to us permanently from their families, and the ones who stay but pay tuition, pay very little. We barely make enough to keep coal in the two fires we do use during winter."
Alessa looked about the room and caught Rowan watching her, his visage one of adoration and wonder. Had he been a child without a family? A young boy cold on the streets of London without food or care? She closed her eyes a moment, hating the thought of it, wishing she could save everyone who faced such a bleak life.
Alessa turned back to Miss Winters and gave her her full attention. "This whole building is in need of repair from what I have viewed of it so far. I know I promised to clothe the children each year until they are employed and earning a wage, but I want to do more."
Miss Winters pulled out her handkerchief once again and dabbed at her nose, her eyes wide with hope. "More, Your Highness? You are already doing so much."
Alessa did not think so. She had more money than she knew what to do with. When she died, she could not take it with her, so why not spend it on children while she could? The children here deserved it just as much as any other child, after all. "I am going to have repairs undertaken on the orphanage, Miss Winters. The entire building shall be purchased from whomever you lease from to ensure its location and safety in the years to come. I would never begin repairs only to have the landlord turn about and kick you all out and make a profit of my charity." Alessa turned to her secretary, who stood nearby. "Mr. Todd, ensure the deeds are transferred over to my trust before the end of the week. Pay whatever the value is for this part of London and add a little extra to smooth the sale."
Mr. Todd nodded, jotting down in his notebook. "Consider it done, Your Highness.
"I will have every room repaired, lined, and heated for the winter months. No longer shall the children here go cold, which I understand has been a concern for you."
Miss Winters nodded. "In winter we have to have all the children housed in the same room at night. Coal is expensive, and I can only afford to have two fires lit, you see, and so with the children all together, the room is warmer. Not a lot, mind you. We lost a child last year to a terrible chest infection. I believe if the building were heated better, we should not have lost Gregory."
Alessa frowned, hating the idea of a child dying, no matter what the circumstances. "I'm sorry I did not know of your plight sooner, Miss Winters. Losing a child would be traumatic, and you cannot blame yourself. You are trying to help these children, care for and love them as best you can. It is not your fault you do not have the financial means to continue."
Miss Winters nodded, but the poor woman clearly blamed herself for the child's death. Alessa reached out, patting her hand. "We shall work together to ensure that no child will ever befall such circumstances while under this roof. They all shall be snug in beds that have an abundance of blankets, their clothes will be warm, and their shoes new. The building shall be like a palace when I'm through with the renovations. You should not know yourself after the fact. And," she said, thanking the stars for her blessed life that she could be so generous to those less fortunate, "I shall have every room that houses a fire supplied with wood and coal, so much so that you shall not know what to do with it all. As patron of your orphanage, I will make certain that you, Miss Winters will want for nothing ever again. I promise you that."
"Your Highness, that is too much. We cannot take so much from you," Miss Winters argued, looking at Alessa's guards and secretary for support and receiving none. Marco merely smiled, and her secretary noted everything that was being said down in his notebook.
Her attention snapped to Rowan, who was looking out the window, a muscle working on his jaw.
Alessa turned back to Miss Winters and smiled. "It is not too much at all. I should also like to help hire more staff for you. Another cook and cleaner I think you shall need. And also a person who may be able to source some of the children out for adoption. Those who long for a family and have none of their own. But it must be their choice if they're old enough to decide. Would that be helpful, Miss Winters?"
The headmistress broke down in tears, and Alessa sat back, pouring herself and the young headmistress some tea as she waited for her to regain her composure. Her declaration was quite shocking, she supposed, and exciting. It was a lot for anyone to take in and accept as truth.
She spent the afternoon in the hall with the children, eating some of the roast lunch she had delivered to the orphanage. The dessert was lemon meringue pi
e, a favorite of Alessa's, and the children, having never had it before, oohed and ahhed as the sweet dessert touched their tongues.
The afternoon passed in a haze of laughter, of small talk, and tours of the building. Alessa could see everything that needed repairs, and it would take several months, but they must be ready before the first snowfall of the season. The building had to be warm for them this winter. That was not negotiable, and she would ensure whatever builder they hired for the position could hit that deadline.
She returned home later that afternoon, not looking forward to her upcoming discussion with her sister. She did not want to argue with Holly. She wanted to sit in the library and design and plan the repairs at the orphanage, make a list of items to discuss with the headmistress when she met with her again next week.
Alessa stepped from the carriage and stumbled as a crack sounded out in the street. A puff of dust flew up from the step she was about to step upon before she gasped as a body hurled against her, pushing her onto the cobbled footpath, her chin hitting the pavement and making her teeth clatter.
"Stay down," she was demanded. Alessa did as she was told, the realization of what had just occurred spinning through her mind.
She heard footsteps and shouting and lay still as she could before she was hoisted up into the arms of Rowan and rushed into the house.
He set her down inside the hall, slamming the door closed behind them.
"Did someone just shoot at me?" she asked him, unable to believe that someone would dare to do that, but knowing all the while that she was a target and, of course, she was fair game to be felled.
Rowan strode to the window, looking out onto the street behind heavy velvet curtains, careful not to move them or be seen. "Yes, Your Highness. You were shot at, and lucky for you, you're not dead."
Harsh, but true, she supposed. She watched him a moment before she turned and started up the stairs to her room. She wanted to run to him, to wrap herself into the safety of his arms, but he was distracted, looking out onto the street. Her guard in every sense of the word and no longer her lover. Not right now, at least.
"Thank you for saving me," she whispered, glad her tone was calm while the blood in her veins pumped fast.
Rowan met her eyes, a tortured look to his visage. Other servants stood about, all wondering what had happened, what was happening. "Do not thank me. Never thank me," he stated, striding to the front door, wrenching it open, and marching out into the daylight, heedless of the danger that lurked outdoors.
She started as the door slammed shut, putting an end to their conversation. Alessa turned for her room, wondering why Rowan was acting so odd. Why did he not want her to thank him? Of course she was thankful, and would always be so.
Footsteps sounded upstairs, and she watched as her sister ran toward her. Holly wrenched her into her arms before escorting her to her room. What would this new attack mean for her? What it would mean for both of them, she did not know, but she did know her life just became a lot more complicated and problematic. That was one certainty she could not ignore.
Chapter 17
The following morning Alessa sat in the library with her private secretary, her sister, and two guards as she listened to them debrief her on what had occurred the day before. Who they suspected and what happened following the shooting.
Marco had been unsuccessful in capturing the wannabe killer, but he had seen him jump up into a highly polished carriage of considerable expense, so the man had money or was backed by someone who did.
Her uncle had been rich aside from his links to the Atharia royal family. They suspected he was working with several allies here in England who disliked that her sister had inherited the throne.
It was only logical that her uncle's spineless friends had made their first strike against her, and she would be a fool indeed to ignore the warning. But she had not long been in England. To leave now would mean they had won, scared her away. She would not back down to anyone, least of all an enemy who did not have the stomach to face her head-on.
"We must depart England immediately, Alessa," her sister stated, striding back and forth behind the desk Alessa sat before. Her sister's husband, Lord Balhannah, nodded in agreement before the fire.
"I agree," Marco stated. Alessa fought not to sigh at her guard's words. Of course he would agree with Holly. He would never not agree with her sister. "It is all we can do to ensure your safety. The next time they strike at you, you may not be as lucky as you were yesterday."
Her guard was right, of course, but the stubborn part of her soul refused to accept defeat. Her uncle had lost the war in Atharia. If he were indeed alive, the man and his absurd supporters needed to stop with this foolishness, especially when her uncle was never in line for the throne, not after his brother, her father had heirs to succeed him.
"Surely we can stay a few more weeks at least, Your Majesty," she begged her elder sister. "With the extra security you have put in place, and if I promise to limit my outings and not let it be known what events I shall attend, that will surely keep me safe until we depart." She did not want to leave, certainly not so soon. She caught Rowan's gaze and read the troubling thoughts, the concern his dark-blue orbs held for her safety. She was not ready to leave him yet, if ever. What if she could not persuade him to come with her? To love her as she had started to suspect herself of loving him.
"If it is true that our uncle is alive," she continued, "can we not at least try to track him down? Bring him to justice here in England and be done with him and his thugs. Should they be caught, we will not have such urgency to leave."
"What makes you believe they are supporters of your uncle? Could they not be Englishmen who dislike foreign rulers in England?" Rowan asked, the first time he had spoken since she watched him storm out of the house yesterday afternoon.
"But we are not ruling anyone, Mr. Oakley. My sister is having a Season like so many other debutantes, and nothing more," Holly stated, a warning in her tone. "She poses no threat to anyone. If anything, she has been a blessing to the people of the city who are so much more unfortunate than us."
"I concur," Marco said, leaning forward on his chair. "I believe it is your uncle's men who are behind this attack. We shall hunt them down, torture the truth from them if need be, and remove all of them from your path, Your Highness."
Alessa rubbed her temples, an ache settling at either side of her head.
"I shall have my secretary inform the Bow Street Runners we require assistance in bringing our uncle to heel," Holly stated. "If he is alive and found, a lovely little boat ride to New South Wales may be just the thing he requires to learn his lesson to not strike out against us."
"Perhaps you ought to take up the invitation from King George to relocate to Buckingham House, Holly," Lord Balhannah said.
Alessa turned to look at her sister, not having heard that King George was privy to their situation and had extended an invitation to them all.
"We shall have to. I will not risk my sister's life," Holly said, reaching out and clasping her shoulder quickly before she started to pace once again.
"Buckingham House?" Rowan blurted, his eyes wide with shock.
"We may be located now at Duke Sotherton's home, my husband's father's townhouse, but we are royal, Mr. Oakley. The king is a distant relative of ours, and I would expect nothing less than an invitation from him when we are being attacked," Holly stated coldly. Alessa could not understand her sister's dislike of Rowan, but it was clear as the daylight trying to come through the drawn-closed heavy velvet curtains that she did not like him.
Alessa wanted to go to Rowan and reassure him she was still the woman he had held in his arms and made passionate love to only a few days ago. That who they were and related to did not change who she was. He was floundering with the knowledge of who she was and what was happening around them. She inwardly cringed, knowing that this realization would only make it harder for them to be together. He would see her position as a pedestal that he cou
ld not reach or ever be able to climb.
She sighed, wishing for the first time in her life that she was just a woman and he was just a man and there was no impediment to their life together.
"We can always transport you to any entertainments you wish to attend from the mews. The garden is not overlooked, and with it adequately guarded, you should be safe to leave from that location," Marco said, meeting each of their eyes.
"I think that would be best, although I think you really ought to limit your outings, Alessa. Until we have those wishing you harm under guard at Newgate," Holly said, her eyes narrowing on Rowan.
Alessa leaned back in her chair. What was wrong with her sister that she did not like Rowan? It made no sense at all.
"I think it wise for you to leave England immediately," Marco said. "But the choice is not mine to make."
"No, it is mine. This is my life, and I will not be bullied and scared back to Atharia like a child." Alessa stood, taking her sister's hands. "You did not cower to our uncle. You fought him, stormed our home, and took it back. There are people here in England who are relying on me. I cannot let them down. I will not. I want to stay," she continued, squeezing her sister's hands a little. "Let me at least secure someone to take over my women's shelter and orphanage, allow me to attend a few more balls, and then I shall return home. I promise you I will not try to dissuade you a second time."
“You may never have the opportunity to return home or talk to your sister again if you have a bullet through your head," Rowan stated, matter-of-fact.
Alessa felt her mouth gape, and she shut it with a snap. Rowan was supposed to be on her side. He wasn't supposed to want her to leave. Did he not want her to stay?
She had spent so much time locked away last year in Atharia. On the run from her deranged uncle, that the last place she thought anyone would strike at her was England. That she would ever be unsafe here.