She placed a cube of cheese in her mouth, glancing down the table at Lord Grayson. If only she held high enough social status so as to sit next to him.
He looked up and met her gaze, almost as if he could feel her staring. She knew she should look away but found it too difficult a task. Or perhaps she simply did not wish to.
He grinned and nodded his head in her direction. She frowned in confusion until he motioned with is head farther down the table. Abigail followed his gaze, finding Mr. Williamson once again looking at his reflection in his glass.
Abigail smiled and looked back to Lord Grayson. Sir Richard must have directed a comment to Lord Grayson because he had turned back toward those at his end of the table and began to talk, his hands moving in an animated way.
Abigail put her hands in her lap, suddenly feeling very much alone.
The door to the drawing room opened and the men began to pour in. Abigail noticed immediately that Mr. Garvey returned without Lord Grayson, Sir Richard or the Prince Regent.
How odd.
Abigail sighed.
"What is it, Abi?" Clara turned from her conversation with Miss Barton.
"I believe I shall retire to my chambers."
Clara's brow furrowed and placed a hand to Abigail's forehead. "Are you unwell? You do look a bit pale."
Abigail pushed her cousin's hand away, smiling internally at the notion that her cousin would know a fever if she felt one.
"I am well, Clara. A little tired is all. Perhaps it was the richness of all those heavy sauces we had with dinner."
Clara chuckled. "Yes, after nearly starving for the last several days, I can believe the richness of tonight's meal could make you overly sleepy." Clara looked over to Miss Barton, opening her mouth to speak. Abigail cut her off.
"You don't need to leave, Clara. I can make my way to my room on my own. I shall be fine."
Clara glanced toward Lord Nathanial. "Are you certain, Abi?"
Abigail smiled, remembering the thrashing Lord Grayson had given the man.
"Yes. I am certain no one will bother me." She stood up and ran her hands over the wrinkles in her dress. "You will come talk with me over breakfast, yes?"
Clara nodded.
Abigail made her way out of the drawing room. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to fend off the loneliness which had settled over her at dinner. Abigail passed through the archway and into the entryway.
As she reached the stairway, a strange voice echoed down the darkened hallway to her right.
"Are you certain?"
"Quite certain, Your Highness. I have the gunshot wound to prove it." It was Lord Grayson's voice.
Abigail knew she should continue up the stairs, but her feet stayed frozen in place.
"How did they find out?"
Sir Richard spoke for the first time. "It seems they found a letter I wrote to him among Grayson's things."
"You are done then? We have lost our man inside Dennison's band?"
"I'm sorry, Your Highness. But even if I could find a way to explain it all away, I feel I need to come home. My mother and sister will need me now that Patrick has died. I have responsibilities." Lord Grayson’s voice was firm. "I can't be Captain Stringham any longer."
Abigail grasped the railing at the stairs to steady herself. What was she hearing? It almost sounded as if Lord Grayson, was actually Lord Grayson. She shook her head. But Captain Stringham had seemed so...what? Had she not seen the goodness in his eyes? Her heart pounded loudly in her ears. This information changed everything.
The Prince Regent offered a pouty sigh. "Very well. But I would like to try and get someone else in place. Think on it, gentleman. I will expect answers before you quit Brighton."
Abigail heard a door creak on its hinges. Leaping up the stairs, two at a time, she made it to the first landing and into the darkness of the hallway, poking her head around the corner just as the three men emerged into the entryway.
Lord Grayson paused at the center of the entry and looked up the stairway. Abigail pulled her head back praying he had not seen her lurking about.
She listened to the men's footsteps fading as they returned to the drawing room.
Abigail suddenly had the urge to return also, but she knew it would seem suspicious to more than just her cousin.
Instead, she left the anonymity of the darkened hallway and climbed the rest of the steps to the next floor and her chambers, certain the sleep she had come looking for would elude her.
Chapter 17
She knows. Alex limped back and forth in front of his fireplace, his hand folded behind his back while his other clutched his stick tightly. There was no other conclusion to make.
He had developed a sense for when she was looking at him. He had known she was watching him the previous night at dinner and had been surprised and even excited when she didn't look away when he caught her.
When he walked through the entry way, after the dressing down by the Royal windbag, he had sensed her watching him then, also.
She was quick. Alex saw only a flash of gold before it was swallowed in the darkness of the hallway on the floor above. He knew she would have to come out sooner or later. He had told Sir Richard and the Prince he would join them shortly in the drawing room. Then he had positioned himself just inside the archway, with a perfect view of the upper landing.
Sure enough, after the men's footsteps had faded, Miss Marleigh tiptoed out of the darkness and made her way up the staircase.
Hiding could only mean one thing. She had heard enough of their conversation to know who he was.
Alex rubbed at his hairless chin. The question remained. Was her knowing good or bad?
Alex stopped pacing and stared out the window of his chambers. Carriages lined up in front of the house, waiting to transport the guests into town. Alex took a deep breath. Perhaps, if he asked Miss Marleigh to accompany him to town, he could figure out how much she knew and what she thought of the new revelations. The thought of spending the afternoon with her sent a tingle of excitement shooting through his limbs.
He grabbed his tailcoat off the chair he had draped it over after breakfast. Alex pushed his injured arm through the sleeve, wiggling the rest of him into the snug fitting coat. He shrugged his shoulders several times. There were several things he missed from his other life, but the clothes he was able to wear when at sea were at the top of his list. They were much more comfortable.
As he shut the door to his room, Ainsley stopped in the hallway next to him.
Alex nodded. "Did I see the Ainsley carriage in the line outside?"
Ainsley grinned as they began to walk toward the staircase. "Yes. I am to go with the group into Brighton. I must admit, I am looking forward to spending the day with a certain young lady."
Alex raised a brow in question. Although, from the roiling of his stomach, he was certain he already knew the lady's name.
"What of you, Grayson? Is there a particular lady you have set your sights on?"
Alex shrugged. "There are a number of handsome ladies in attendance. I can't say I favor one above another."
Ainsley laughed, nudging Alex in the ribs with an elbow. "I am sure you cannot."
He laughed louder when Alex scowled at him.
Most of the guests had congregated in the entryway, a loud hum of voices raising up the stairs.
Ladies talked as they tied ribbons beneath their chins, while men waited patiently with their beavers already in place.
Alex's eyes scanned the room, stopping only when they found the object of his search.
Miss Marleigh stood next to Miss Martindale. Their heads where bent together as they talked while wiggling their fingers into their gloves.
Alex grinned. Miss Marleigh looked lovely in her cream gown with a lavender sash tied at the back.
He stepped off the last stair just as Mr. Williamson approached Miss Marleigh. She smiled at his greeting and Alex tightened his grip on his cane. Why was she fawning over the fop
?
Alex's shoulders relaxed slightly when he realized that Ainsley would not be able to claim her either. In truth, he would rather see Miss Marleigh with Ainsley than a man such as Mr. Williamson.
Ainsley walked over to Miss Martindale and bowed slightly. She nodded her head, blushing, and looked up at him through her lashes.
If Alex didn't know better, he would have thought Miss Martindale was the certain young lady he had been speaking of.
Couples moved toward the door, leaving those available standing awkwardly in the entry. Alex noticed Miss Tinsdale standing, looking at her feet. She had little in the way of appearance to recommend her, but she could carry a conversation, which was more than he could say for many of the ladies attending this house party.
"Miss Tinsdale, would you do me the honor of accompanying me into town?"
She smiled and nodded her head. "Thank you for singling me out, my lord."
He motioned her toward the door, moving his cane to his other hand, giving him an excuse for not offering it to her. He did not wish to give the girl expectations for something that would not come to pass.
She looked at the walking stick, her body sagging slightly. Alex felt a tug of guilt but brushed it away.
He handed her into the Cartwright carriage, sitting her next to Lady Cartwright. Alex cast a grateful look to Sir Richard, before turning and staring out the window.
Lady Cartwright and Miss Tinsdale carried the conversation, leaving Alex free to think about how he would speak to Miss Marleigh in private. That fop Williamson should be easy enough to distract away from her.
The carriage pulled to a stop without Alex even realizing where they were. He looked over to the others. "Have we arrived already?"
Lady Cartwright chuckled. "Already, my lord? It has been nearly half an hour since we left Havencrest."
Alex looked apologetically toward Miss Tinsdale. "Please excuse my wool gathering, ladies. I have displayed very poor manners, indeed." He grimaced. "My mother would be appalled."
Miss Tinsdale gave a slight smile. "Please, don't apologize, my lord."
Sir Richard and Lord Grayson stepped out first. Lady Cartwright accepted her husband's hand as she alighted from the carriage. Alex moved into Sir Richard’s place and handed out Miss Tinsdale.
Feeling guilty for neglecting her in the carriage, Alex held out his arm to her. As they walked down the sidewalk, Alex could not help looking ahead to Miss Marleigh and Mr. Williamson. His mouth twitched up when he saw her hands clasped in front of her.
Alex did not know if Mr. Williamson had not offered or if she had declined, but Alex was disposed to think it her decision rather than his.
Alex continued to watch as they stopped at each window where Miss Marleigh looked into the shops and Mr. Williamson looked at himself, his head turning in all directions.
"I understand you have spent time in India."
Miss Marleigh and Mr. Williamson continued to the next shop, her hands still clasped in front of her. Mr. Williamson looked about him, his attention on every window, and never, it seemed, on Miss Marleigh. The dolt!
A quiet but deliberate throat clearing sounded next to him and Alex looked over at the lady beside him, embarrassed for ignoring her again. It seemed Alex was no better than Mr. Williamson. "Yes, I have. It is a remarkable place."
"I have always dreamed of going someday." She took a deep breath. "I believe I shall have the opportunity very soon."
Alex walked along in silence for a moment before her words penetrated his brain. "Pardon me? Did you imply you are going to India?"
Miss Tinsdale nodded. "It is becoming more certain by the day."
Alex stopped walking and stared at her.
She stared back, her shoulders straight and her head high. "This house party was my last chance. My uncle and his wife are to leave for India by month’s end. My father insisted I come to Brighton and try one last time to make a match. If I do not, I shall accompany my aunt and uncle."
"How long is their trip to last?" Alex began walking again, Miss Tinsdale keeping pace with him.
"My uncle is to be setting up house in India. He works for the West India Company. Their stay is of an indefinite time."
Alex was quiet while he absorbed this information. His stomach began to churn. "I am sorry if I gave you a false hope."
She smiled and chuckled. "Don't apologize, my lord. It is not as if I am going to Newgate or Australia, for that matter. I am actually quite looking forward to the adventure." She looked ahead, nodding toward Miss Marleigh. "Besides, anyone who has seen you talk with her already knows where your heart lies."
Alex swallowed herd. "I think you are…" What did he think? That she was mistaken? Miss Tinsdale was not the first to imply Alex’s partiality toward Miss Marleigh. The problem it seemed was they were right. He did prefer Miss Marleigh. He more than preferred her if he was being honest. But was he so obvious about it?
She chuckled again. "I believe you, and possibly her, are the only ones in doubt of your feelings."
Miss Marleigh separated from Mr. Williamson and went into a shop, while he continued down the sidewalk.
"Now is your chance to go speak with her." Miss Tinsdale reached out and gave him a little shove. "I shall meet you back at the carriage at the appointed hour."
Alex turned around to face her. "I invited you to accompany me. It would be beyond the pale for me to abandon you."
Miss Tinsdale turned in the opposite direction. "Then I shall abandon you. Now quickly before she leaves the shop." She pointed down the street. "It was the fourth one down on the left."
Alex stood staring after her, his mouth gaping.
A bell tinkled and Alex whipped around, hoping it was not Miss Marleigh. He quickened his step when he realized it was not her.
Stopping in front of the of the shop Miss Tinsdale had told him Miss Marleigh had entered, Alex looked through the window. Several instruments hung in the window. Alex grinned. He should have known it would be a music shop.
Alex pushed through the door, squinting into the shadowed recesses of the shop.
Miss Marleigh stood hunched over a crate of sheet music, her fingers walking along the contents. He moved next to her, mimicking the same movement.
She did not even look up at his closeness.
Finally, unable to stop himself he leaned into her. "Did you find it?"
Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. When she saw him, she relaxed. "Did I find what, my lord?"
"The Vivaldi piece you found in Portsmouth."
She shook her head. "I didn't expect to. I was just looking to see what was available."
"Have you found one you wish to buy?"
She shook her head again, shifting her body closer to him. "There are several which tempt me." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "But I’m resigned to the fact that a candle and perhaps some cheese and bread may be of more import, considering our meals this week."
Alex breathed her in slowly, the scent clouding his brain.
She moved back to resume her search of the music and he came back to his wits. "If you do not intend to buy anything, why are you looking so intently?"
She bit her lower lip, looking up at him through her lashes. "In truth? I am avoiding Mr. Williamson." She paused and looked up into his eyes. "Please do not tell him. I know it is most improper, but he...he really didn't need me with him to check his reflection in the windows and talk about the cut of his coat." She looked back down to her fingers touching each spine in the crate. "His conversation does not require a second person."
Alex grinned like an idiot. She did not desire Mr. Williamson's affections. But it didn’t follow that she did desired Alex's.
"I owe you an apology, my lord."
"Oh?" Was she going to tell him what she had heard?
"The other day, I implied you had done terrible things." She stopped talking. Her fingers moved through the scores quickly, as if she were avoiding looking at him. "I had already realized you were
not such a man, by the way you treated Clara and me in the carriage."
"You mean when I pointed a gun at you and forced you to take me away from Portsmouth? Yes, I surely earned your trust then." Alex leaned down slightly, hoping to draw her gaze to him. He wanted to see her when she spoke. Learn what each of her looks meant.
"I never felt my life was truly in danger." She took a deep breath.
Alex nudged her in the arm with his elbow. "Never?"
She chuckled. "Perhaps when we first discovered you, I felt a moment of fear. But once I looked in your eyes…." She turned her head and finally looked at him. "I knew you would not harm us."
"You were not wrong, Miss Marleigh."
Her brow furrowed.
"About the implication that I had killed the real Lord Grayson."
Her eyes widened.
"Not about me killing him, but in assuming it was a possibility based on what you knew to be true. Had I been in your situation, I should have supposed the same."
She turned back to the crate in front of her. "I thought I knew who you really were, but I was wrong." She stopped looking through the music, her thumb running back and forth across the sharply creased paper. "This is who you really are, is it not?" Her head inclined toward him.
Was that hope he heard in her voice?
"Yes, it is." His voice was not much more than a whisper. Alex shifted his hand, gently brushing his pinkie against hers.
The bell at the front door opened and Miss Marleigh took a step to the side.
"There you are, Abi. I have been looking everywhere for you." Miss Martindale looked about the shop. "Although, I should have guessed I would find you here."
She looked to Alex and her mouth turned down at the corners. "Lord Grayson."
Alex dipped his head. It seemed emphasizing his title was a family trait. "Miss Martindale."
She grabbed Miss Marleigh at the elbow. "Come, Abi. We are going to get ices and walk along the pier."
Miss Marleigh's Pirate Lord (Regency House Party: Havencrest Book 1) Page 13