Does The Earl Love Me

by Jasmine Ashford

  “Thirty miles,” Leo answered, raising his hand to shield his eyes.

  Alicia groaned. Her back ached, and her hands were chafed from holding the reins. They had been riding almost solidly for two days and had slept the last two nights in abandoned barns.

  “I don't know if I can do that,” she said in a small voice. The thought of another day or two like this was almost too horrible to contemplate.

  “I understand,” Leo said slowly. He paused, thinking, and then grinned. “I have a better idea.”

  “You do?”

  “I have,” he said smugly. “You see that inn down there?” He dismounted and came to stand with her.

  “Yes.” Alicia wrinkled her brow, creasing up her eyes to see the inn. The wide plains before them were wind-beaten and empty, except for the solitary building. It lay at the bottom of the hill, close to the road.

  “That is the place the mail-coach stops,” Leo explained. “If we can stay there tonight, we can catch the coach to London.”

  “The horses?” Alicia asked, feeling instantly protective. She loved Bluebelle and would not just let her loose!

  “The horses can stay at the inn, too,” Leo explained. “We shall tell the innkeeper that we have traveled down from Wilding and pay someone at the stables to ride the horses back.”

  “It's two days away,” Alicia said distantly.

  “So, we pay well,” Leo suggested, and grinned.

  They both laughed.

  “Very well, then,” Alicia agreed. “That would be pleasant. I would give a great deal to be warm and in a bed at night.”

  “Mm,” Leo agreed.

  Alicia felt warmth flood through her, and she blushed. She had not meant to suggest they shared a bed, but the sound of Leo's voice, warm and throaty, conjured feelings she barely understood.

  “We shall be decorous,” Leo said, as if he read her thoughts.

  “Yes,” Alicia replied, flustered.

  “I shall arrange a separate room for me,” Leo suggested. “We can say you are my sister, or something, and then they will make adequate arrangements for us both.” He said it lightly, though Alicia, who knew him well by now, could read the complex currents in those gold eyes and in the tremor of his voice.

  Alicia shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “I just thought... what if the duke is looking for us? Is it not dangerous for us to use the coach? What if he has someone watching the roads for us?”

  “I...” Leo bit his lip a moment, thinking.

  “I know!” Alicia smiled and clapped her hands.

  “What?”

  “We can disguise ourselves!”

  Leo looked at her with wide eyes, a little taken aback, and then grinned.

  “You know,” he replied, musing, “that is a good idea.”

  “Good,” Alicia dimpled, pleased.

  “Well, then,” Leo said, sounding cheered, “let us sashay forth and change our identities!”

  Alicia giggled, eyes shining. She loved Leo's easy confidence, the way he was undaunted by anything.

  “Yes!” she said, delighted. “Let's go!”

  The two of them rode down the hill toward the valley.

  The inn was warm and pleasant, and they were greeted at once by the scent of stew, wafting from the kitchens. Alicia, who had not eaten more than half a loaf of bread in two days, felt her stomach contract painfully.

  “Leo,” she whispered, tugging on his sleeve. He looked down and, seeing her distraught expression, went straight to the woman behind the front desk.

  “Good evening, milord,” she greeted him genially.

  “Good evening,” Leo observed. “My sister and I would like rooms here. We also would like some of whatever smells so good!” His gold eyes twinkled.

  The woman dimpled at the compliment, curtseying.

  “Of course, milord. Sit yourselves there by the fire, and I'll fetch out some stew.”

  Alicia and Leo paid their fare and then hurried to the seat before the fire. Sitting in the warmth, with fresh bread on the table, Alicia sighed and felt her body relax for the first time in days. She was here with Leo, they were warm and well-fed. What more could a person ask?

  Later, that evening, when they had eaten two or three bowls of delicious stew and drunk a glass of two of ale, Leo called the innkeeper's wife to join them.

  “That was excellent.” He smiled, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

  “Oh, you are kind, milord.” The innkeeper's wife, a hard-faced woman with warm eyes, blushed.

  “I mean it,” he said sincerely. “A round for all three of us!” he added to the landlord, who, bemused, went to fetch three glasses of ale.

  “Thank you,” the landlady said, stunned. When the ale arrived, she lifted the glass and toasted Leo and Alicia with it.

  They all drank together. Alicia was sure no clients had sat with her to drink before and understood the woman's confusion.

  As they drank, Leo asked, “You have many travelers here?”

  “Oh, yes, milord! Ever so many, and all kinds – the gentry, like yourselves, yeomen farmers, workers... everyone comes to the White Hill Inn.”

  “Any groups of men in black livery?” Leo asked.

  The women wrinkled her brow, thinking. “Now you mention it, there were some, two days back. They stayed a night. Strange fellows. I did not trust them.”

  “Mm.” Leo’s eyes met Alicia's, who nodded, face grave.

  “My dear lady,” Leo said, and smiled at the innkeeper's wife, who blushed, “I have a request to make of you, for us.”

  “Of course, my lord,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Can you dye my hair?”

  The woman looked at him. She said nothing.

  Alicia, watching her, could see her thinking through the possibilities. If Leo was disguising his identity, he must be fleeing. Why else would he make such a peculiar request? In which case, if she helped him, she would be assisting with a crime. But he was kind, and clearly rich...

  “Certainly.” The woman grinned and finished her glass of ale.

  “Thank you,” Leo said, feelingly, and finished his.

  That evening, after the rest of the clientele had left, and the taproom was empty, the innkeeper's wife boiled walnut shells to make a dye.

  The next morning, when they went to catch the mail-coach, a dark-haired young man with golden eyes accompanied his red-haired sister to the stop.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  LONDON’S WHARF

  LONDON’S WHARF

  The ride in the mail coach was long, but so much more pleasant than walking or riding had been. Alicia slept much of the way, two days of exhaustion weighing on her. She and Leo reached London the next evening. Paying their dues with the mail-coach, they proceeded to the harbor. The sun was just beginning to set, the sky above the city turning pink, the clouds wind-torn.

  So, this is London! Alicia stared at the tightly-packed houses, amazed by the number of people! Though she was the cousin of an earl, she had never before been to Town. It is so loud! She frowned at the waves of sound that crashed about her, causing her almost physical pain. Used to the wild, half-empty moorlands of Northern Yorkshire, the bustling crowds were rather frightening. She clung to Leo's hand, shrinking from the vendors shouting their wares and the rise and fall of many voices.

  As they walked, Alicia stared. The mail-coach stopped near the marketplace, and there were so many things to see! There were stalls with wilting produce, the stench of fish clinging to the fishmonger's stands. There were fine ladies, wrapped in swathing coats, walking past, heads in the air, visiting seamstresses and milliner's shops. The shops awed Alicia: Leo had to drag her away from a dressmaker's, displaying beautiful evening gowns in the window. It seemed everything was on offer here: spices, silks, fresh produce, books, cocoa, ball gowns, tea! Alicia stared at everything.

  Walking briskly down cobbled roads, between houses so tightly packed that there were places where almost no sun reached them, Alicia
and Leo went as quickly as they could toward the wharf. The clang of hammers, the clamor of men, the hiss of steam, as strakes were bent! The scent of fish. The stench of the Thames. Then, the sun, lancing through the clouds and off a dozen sails.

  Alicia, breathing in the scents and wrinkling her brow at every loud crash, shout and clank, felt her heart soar, excitement filling her. They were here! They were at the dock in London.

  “My dear?” Leo, beside her, squeezed her hand.

  “I am well, Leo,” she murmured. She had stopped, rooted to the spot, to watch the men raising the sails on a broad three-masted schooner. “It is just so beautiful here.”

  “Amazing place, yes,” Leo murmured, as they watched the sailors, light-footed, walk along the masts, unfurling the vast sheets. The sails cracked in the stiff breeze, making a sound like gunfire. Leo winced.

  “We should find an inn,” he said, and looked about meaningfully, leading Alicia further along the wharf. Though they had not seen anyone suspicious on the last day of their journey, they were still not entirely relaxed, still uncertain about being caught in full view in public.

  “I think we are safe for the moment.” Alicia smiled. As they walked, she gently traced her finger down Leo's new-dyed hair. He shivered slightly as her fingertip reached his ear.

  Leo's black hair was striking, Alicia had to agree. The combination of gold eyes and black hair was intimidating – sufficiently so that the thuggish sailor that approached them shrank back when Leo fixed him with a baleful eye.

  Alicia laughed.

  “I have to say, my dear, your new look is fairly striking.”

  “Well, at least your disguise is easier to explain,” he said, and smiled. They both blushed.

  The easiest way to cover Alicia's hair was to pretend they were married. That way, she could wear a cap, and take on the guise of a modest merchant's wife. They had purchased one at the first seamstress' shop they found, thus changing identity from brother and sister to man and wife. It formed an additional precaution in Town, which might be needed to hide from the duke, as London was a favorite winter haunt for much of the gentry. Alicia looked up at Leo now, heart-shaped face framed in the cap's frills, and he smiled tenderly and kissed her nose.

  “Mrs. Graham,” he murmured. She blushed.

  So far, their new identity seemed to be holding up. Even Alicia had to admit they were unrecognizable. She looked into his hawkish eyes and saw his pupils narrow as he gazed into hers.

  Leo tore his gaze away as they reached the end of the roadway. “Here we are,” Leo whispered, clasping her hand.

  “Oh...” Alicia breathed. The inn was just at the edge of the docks, out of the worst smell of the river. It was quite pretty, in a rustic way, with whitewashed walls and a low, dark-wooded entrance.

  “Shall we?”

  “Yes.”

  They knocked at the door and were admitted by a ruddy-cheeked woman with friendly eyes.

  “And who'll you fine folk be?” she greeted them.

  “Good afternoon,” Leo began politely. They went through their Mr. and Mrs. Graham routine, and after payment they went upstairs.

  The room was small and dark, the light coming through the single window. The floor was mostly occupied by a vast bed. Outside, the wind was already lifting with the evening, and the sun was starting to set, though it was only four of the clock. Alicia, exhausted from the journey, collapsed onto the bed. Leo went to fasten the shutters, closing out the worst of the wind.

  “We should have dinner here tonight, after I find passage on a ship,” Leo said, checking his watch. “Then we should rest.”

  After lighting the lamp, Leo came to sit down on the bed beside her. They looked at each other, but said nothing.

  There was only one bed. As Mr. and Mrs. Graham, it would have been strange if they had objected to that. Leo leaned down to Alicia, who was almost asleep.

  “Oh...” Alicia murmured, as his arms wrapped her close.

  Their lips were on one another's, then, and they were lost in the soft sweetness and warmth of their mouths, clinging to each other. Alicia purred as Leo's tongue probed her mouth, and then, as they fell back on the bed together, he paused.

  “I...” He swallowed. “I can sleep in the attic tonight. I should...”

  Alicia felt her heart racing and tried to control her breath enough to speak. “I suppose,” she managed, voice husky with feeling.

  “I think we should,” Leo said, though as he sat the look in his eyes was filled with regret.

  “I know,” Alicia murmured, sighing softly to herself. They went to the docks to find a captain to give them safe passage.

  An hour later, they returned for an early dinner – the establishment's famous fish pie.

  An hour and a half later, they were both asleep: Alicia in the vast bed in the small room, and Leo, on his back in the attic, covered with a borrowed blanket.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHANGING PLANS

  CHANGING PLANS

  The next morning dawned overcast and windy. Alicia and Leo breakfasted at the inn.

  “You slept well?” Leo asked Alicia as they ate.

  Alicia blushed, remembering their closeness the previous evening. “Yes, thank you,” she murmured. She looked up and caught his eye. He smiled. Evidently, he was thinking about it, too.

  Alicia smiled and stirred her tea. I am so lucky! Here I am, with the handsomest man I ever saw – and an earl, at that – and we seem to be falling in love.

  They finished their breakfast in a shy silence. Calling their thanks, they went to buy provisions for the journey.

  Alicia walked close to Leo, each nerve-ending alight with the closeness from the day before. She had never imagined the kind of intimacy she had felt with Leo. And I will be married to him. She swallowed hard. They purchased a loaf of soft white bread, a shawl for Alicia and new boots for Leo, whose own had almost worn through. That left them with two gold pieces – easily enough, they reckoned, for the passage to Germany. Reaching the harbor, Leo went at once to The Fleet Flyer, the ship whose master he had spoken to the night before.

  “Ahoy, there!”

  Leo, elated, shouted into the wind as he climbed the gangplank to the deck.

  Alicia waited with their luggage. Standing behind him on the wharf, she felt proud to watch how ably he walked on the swaying deck, so confident and easy.

  I do have a handsome husband. Their disguise was starting to convince even her. Though they had only maintained the pretense for two days, it seemed so natural that she had to remind herself that they were not already wed. The remembrance that they would be, soon – as soon as they reached Germany – made her stomach tense with eagerness.

  As she waited, she watched Leo discourse with the captain – a solid, trustworthy man with a beaten sailor's hat.

  “Yes...” The words were blowing back to her on the stiff breeze as Leo negotiated, “...passage for my wife and I, as we agreed. How much?”

  “That be a gold piece, sir.”

  Alicia saw Leo's posture stiffen, and laughed to herself. It was not so very much for a passage to Germany, at the very end of the shipping season! It was less than they had reckoned on – much less.

  “Uh... yes,” Leo began, hesitant. “I have it somewhere here.”

  Alicia watched as Leo fished in his pockets, searching for the bag of coins he carried. She wanted to help, and, still smiling, fished into her own purse to find the coins she had there.

  Distracted, she did not notice the man approaching.

  A hand came down across her mouth, and she was dragged backward off the gangway, into the alley beyond.

  “Leo!”

  Alicia tried to scream, but she could not make her voice reach past the hand that stifled her. The wind was high and loud, and there was no way Leo could hear her over its roar. The last she saw of him was him turning, with a puzzled look on his face.

  He knows I have gone, was her last thought before a sack was droppe
d down over her head, and a rope tied her arms to her side. She was bundled, screaming, into the back of a waiting carriage.

  “Shut your face, lady, if you want to live,” a man's voice growled inches above her head. Then the carriage door slammed, hard, and there was silence.

  Alicia lay very still. It was dark. Her whole body ached from the manhandling, her head was sore. Her heart was pounding, but she was exhausted, a state beyond fear.

  He knows I have gone. It was a small comfort, but it was a comfort nonetheless.

  The carriage began to move. It smelled musty, but the seats were dry and padded, and it began to roll along the cobbled road.

  She sat and tried to beat against the glass, but, with the sack blinding her vision and arm pinioned to her body, it was impossible to see, to move, to do anything.

  Who has taken me? Alicia tried to calm her racing mind. All she wanted to do was escape. As the carriage ride wore on, she tried to calm herself, to make a rational plan.

  The list of people who might have taken her was fairly short. Kidnappers seemed unlikely – no one in Town knew she was the daughter of the Count von Aichelburg and Lady Valeria Grey. What profit would there be in kidnapping her if they did not know who she was?

  There were only two other possibilities. The first – footpads – seemed unlikely: these men had carriages and were armed. They were organized and seemed well-equipped. That left only one possibility.

  The Duke of Lennox recognized me. Alicia felt her heart stop.

  The Duke of Lennox, who knew she was betrothed. Who was Roderick's gambling companion.

  He will use me to bargain with Roderick. It all made sense. They could settle any debts and cement their friendship if the duke handed her over.

  She would at best be humiliated. At worst, she would be disgraced, outcast.

  She would probably not have to marry Roderick – for would he want a woman who had eloped with another man, however innocently? But she would likely be thrown out of her home, left to wander the streets. And if her mother took compassion on her, she would be condemned to a solitary life, alone in her childhood home, shunned by all.