by Janet Kent
Alicia stomped into the next room, flounced down in the desk chair, jerked open the drawer to her traveling writing desk, snatched up a blank sheet and considered what to write.
“My dearest Rogue,” she began. “Owner of my heart and keeper of my soul,” she added with a mocking simper. “Please do not be angry that I have followed you to your home. I could not bear for us to be apart. I will meet you tonight, at midnight, in your garden to show you just how ardently I’ve missed your touch.” Alicia smirked and continued, “I do so hope your dear sister is faring better, and much improved from her infection of the lungs.” Ha! What a liar. She hoped every word made him squirm. “I cannot wait until our hearts unite once more,” she finished with a flourish. “Your loving, Elizabeth.”
With that, Alicia folded the note and wrote “Master Rogue” across the face. She sprang up from her chair and headed downstairs. She’d walk around outside all morning if she had to, until she found a suitable location to drop it right where a servant would be sure to tread.
She wished she could be present to see Ian’s face when he read those words.
###
Ian was in his office poring over his accounts when a gray-haired footman appeared, holding a small square of paper by its corners.
“It were laying near the path in the front lawns,” he said. “Not to say as you’re a rogue, sir, but you are the master here, so I brought it straight to you.”
Ice crackled around Ian’s stomach at the simple word “rogue”. Bracing himself for some unknown disaster, he held out his hand and the footman handed him the note. Ian inclined his head and the older man left him in peace, shutting the door behind him.
Ian dropped the note before him on his desk. His fingers fumbled with its folds as if they didn’t want to view the contents any more than he did. Too soon, the creases had been smoothed and the words leapt before him in tiny rows of neat script.
“My dearest Rogue,” the letter began, and in doing so ripped a hole in his heart. Ian turned his face sideways as though the sentences ceased to exist if he couldn’t see them. After a few deep breaths, he forced himself to read the rest of the message rapidly, his worst suspicions confirmed and compounded.
Elizabeth. Here. Damn.
He crumpled the paper and tossed it into the fire. Instead of feeling better when the sizzling flames consumed the missive, Ian thought he might be sick.
What was he going to do?
###
Alicia strummed her fingers on the piano keys and launched into one of her favorite songs. She pounded the chords across the octaves and allowed her anger to dissipate. She ended the piece with a lighter touch. When she looked up from her fingers, she was surprised to see Carlotta standing in the doorway.
“Don’t kill it,” Carlotta quipped with a cheery smile. “It’s the only piano we’ve got.”
She sashayed into the room and dropped into a chaise longue by the wall, an expectant lift to her eyebrows.
“Er, right,” stammered Alicia, turning from the keys to face her more directly. “My apologies, Miss Carlotta. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Don’t ‘Miss Carlotta’ me – we’re sisters now. Although I daresay Certain Family Members might stand on such formality, I am not one to do so. Of course, I shall never call you anything but Mrs. Morrissey without permission to do otherwise, since you are mistress of Heatherley now and my elder besides. But I would be in alt if we could also be friends!”
Alicia blinked. “I should be honored to be both your sister and your friend,” she replied after a moment. “I will not mind at all if you call me Alicia. ‘Mrs. Morrissey’ still feels strange to my ears.”
“Famous! You’re a jolly good sport, and talented at the keys, besides. I’ve always wanted to play,” confessed Carlotta, with a longing look toward the piano.
“You don’t play?” Alicia asked in surprise.
Carlotta shook her head. “None of us.”
“Certainly Ian could afford a tutor?”
“I suppose. But it was Mama that played. And she stopped the day Papa died. Being the youngest, I’ve never heard this piano played – until just now.”
“How awful! I’m so sorry.” Alicia bit her lip and considered Carlotta’s wistful expression. “If you’d like, I… I would be glad to teach you what I know.”
“Oh, would you?” Carlotta clapped her hands together and sprang to her feet, bouncing over to Alicia and settling next to her on the bench. “What do I do? How do I begin?”
“Your enthusiasm is quite inspiring,” Alicia said with her first true smile since she’d arrived at Heatherley. “Let’s begin with a little lesson on which keys are which, and perhaps by the end of the afternoon you’ll have mastered the basics of steps and half-steps. Once you’ve practiced scales for as many hours as I have, perhaps you’ll be less impressed with the piano.”
“Oh, never!” Carlotta crowed, wiggling in glee. “I shall love scales above all else!”
Laughing, Alicia set about introducing the keys to Carlotta, naming them and their relationships to each other and making the delighted girl repeat each letter as the notes rang out. She coached her in the proper fingering for a run of C scales, and stood behind her to watch her plunk out the pattern in halting, staccato notes.
Breathless with giggling as she hit yet another wrong key, Carlotta jumped and gasped, “Ian!”
Alicia flinched and turned toward the door. There he stood, tall and powerful even with his black wavy hair tousled and a brooding look in his eyes.
“How dreadful of you to stand and watch!” Carlotta cried. “Either move along to whatever you’d rather be doing, or come in and sit down like a proper audience. You may clap when I make my scales successfully. I’m getting better every moment!”
Ian turned on his heel and loped off without a word, leaving Carlotta speechless for the first time since Alicia’s arrival in Heatherley.
“I suppose… I suppose it was the shock of seeing someone other than Mama at the piano,” she said finally. “Perhaps it was bad of me not to ask him what he thought of such lessons.”
Alicia cocked her head to one side and considered the empty doorway with a sense of grim satisfaction. Maybe, just maybe, “Elizabeth” had scored a direct hit.
###
When nightfall blanketed Heatherley in its darkness, save for the moon and several stars, Alicia retired to her room on the pretext of a headache. The truth, however, was that she wasn’t entirely sure where to find her patch stand and patches, and began to fear she might miss her own staged assignation.
By the time she discovered to which drawer they’d been unpacked, she began to have little niggling doubts. At first, getting even with Ian had seemed not only no less than he deserved, but also a grand lark. The sense of danger and fear of discovery that had heightened her every emotion while meeting Rogue at Chadwick House no longer existed. After all, how could Ian reprimand her now? He was just as guilty as she, and possibly more.
Leagues more, in fact, if he intended to meet his lost love while a newly married man! Many matrons believed such blatant betrayal of the institution of marriage to be nothing to concern oneself with, so long as discretion was employed. But meeting a lover in one’s own back yards, while one’s bride rested just a window away… she could find nothing discreet in that!
Alicia littered her skin with the small black patches. Scowling with renewed rage, she shrugged into a dark brown pelisse and headed out the door. She’d taken no more than three steps when she tripped over something large and went flying into the opposite wall.
A gasp and sudden movement made her turn to face the obstacle with more than a little trepidation, but she was not prepared for what she saw. Big round eyes blinked up at her from a wide, owlish face. Alicia gaped at the child with as much horror as reflected in his own expression.
Heatherley employed a hall boy.
That is, a young, inexperienced hall boy whose drowsy eyes indicated he’d fallen
dead asleep. And she’d had the misfortune to trip over him!
Alicia racked her brain, trying to think of how to turn this situation best to her advantage. He might make it known that she scurried around at night garbed in walking dresses and black velvet hearts and half-moons, but who cared? Tonight, she’d make it damn clear to Ian Morrissey exactly who his “mistress” was and was not. She didn’t want the whole household awakened, but since she was mistress, the hall boy would have to answer to her. Wouldn’t he?
“How bad of you to put yourself right in the path of people walking down the hallway,” Alicia chided him, hoping she came across as affronted and angry.
“Oh, no, ma’am. Well, yes, it seems I did, but I didn’t know as you’d be walking down it, and as I’d fallen asleep, I couldn’t see you do so, ma’am, and I’m terribly sorry,” he stammered as he scrambled to his feet.
“What else would I do in a hallway but walk down it?” Alicia asked in her most reasonable tone, and waved her hand at him. “Sit down, sit down. You may as well go back to sleep. That is, unless you think we ought to wake my husband right now to tell him you knocked me into the wall?”
The hall boy goggled up at her, terrified. “No, ma’am, not now at all – that is, I hope ’tis not truly necessary, even in the morning when he’s awake, and I’m beggin’ your pardon something fierce, ma’am, as I’m only to stop those as want to wander the halls and raise the hue and cry if evildoers appear, and not the least bit supposed to knock anyone into the wall at all.”
While he paused for a slow, shaky breath, Alicia tried to soothe him. “In that case, there’s no reason to bring it up to the master at all, is there? I’ve got a touch of the insomnia, and I thought a breath of fresh air would be just the thing. I’m sure you’ll be here to protect me when I come back this way, will you not?”
“Oh, yes! Heavens yes, ma’am, I’ll be right here, and I’ll be waiting, and I won’t be sleeping even for a second, and I promise not to knock you into any more walls even if I am asleep, ma’am, you can count on that.”
Alicia gave him a brisk nod. “Excellent.” She turned and continued down the corridor, hoping to avoid a hysterical burst of nervous laughter until she at least gained the garden. Luck was with her, and she managed to maneuver the remaining steps to the side door without running into any other servants.
Her first breath of cold, crisp air filled her lungs and cleared her mind. Good Lord, what a close call! She wasn’t sure she could pull off even a few moments of “Elizabeth” with her heart beating so wildly in her chest.
She was still a little early. Perhaps the best plan would be to hide until he arrived, if he hadn’t yet. That way, she could discover what plans the lying rogue had for Elizabeth. If he dared to appear with a bouquet of flowers, she’d shove them down his throat until he choked.
Alicia crossed to the garden entrance and ambled inside. She drifted down one aisle and another, peering across hedges for a glimpse of Ian. After several minutes of aimless wandering, she headed back toward the garden gate.
Her husband was nowhere to be found, but lying in the center of a small stone bench was a single red rose with a note tied to its stem by a ribbon.
Anticipation burbled in her stomach as she crept forward. Gingerly plucking the rose from the seat, Alicia plopped onto the cold bench and untied the slender ribbon. The attached paper fell onto her lap. Twisting sideways to catch the most moonlight, she unfolded the note’s creases and stared as the words leapt from the page.
“Elizabeth,” began the large, bold script. “I am so sorry. I don’t know how to explain, but I must be honest. Although still a bachelor while I knew you, I am a married man now, and take my vows very seriously.”
Alicia swallowed. Perhaps her husband did not wish to rekindle his midnight love affair after all.
“My wife must come first in all things,” the note declared. “Although ours is not a love match, it is my desire and my duty to make the most of our marriage in any way that I can.”
Rubbing at her patches, Alicia drew an icy breath. Perhaps she was more of a cad than he.
“My wife deserves my unwavering loyalty and respect,” he continued, “and in return I'd like to earn her trust. To this end, I must beg you not to seek me out. Ever. I cannot see you again. Regretfully, your Rogue.”
Refolding the note, Alicia stared at the garden. The tall hedgerows and plump bushes seemed to mock her with their calm beauty. This was where she planned to make a fool of her husband? He’d proved he had more character than she.
Perhaps her machinations would be better spent in a plot to make the true Ian fall in love with the true her. She could hardly hold him to double standards of self-serving hypocrisy.
Before she’d learned of his deception, she’d thought Ian an angel and Rogue worthy of any sacrifice. Why had she thought her husband any different than a combination of the two? He was both her husband and her unforgettable masked man – her hero in disguise.
He had made his selection, and he’d chosen her. The real her. She could do nothing less in return but prove herself worthy of that decision and fight for his true love.
What heartache they would have missed if their masks had been cast aside sooner!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
When Alicia awoke, alone and unrested in the middle of her bed, she resolved never to do so again. She’d make her husband love her if it killed her – starting this very morning. Her mind whirling, she hopped out of bed and rang for her maid.
His almost-pledge to her that last night as Rogue may or may not have been a lie, but his desire for her was very real. With luck, she could use passion to catapult him into love. She could do nothing, however, until she found him. He’d been avoiding her for days and she wasn’t going to stand for another second of it.
Once she was clean and groomed, Alicia set out to comb every inch of Heatherley until she found her husband. Unfortunately, the first man she found was Louis.
His cloying cologne stank more than usual, and neither his looks nor his disposition had improved since she’d seen him last. He stood at the front door, arguing with the head butler and gesticulating like a madman. Sighing, Alicia resigned herself to intervene. Both men noticed her approach at the same moment.
“Mrs. Morrissey! I do hope we haven’t disturbed you. This man arrived–”
“She knows me! I’m her cousin!”
“–with two coaches. The first was filled with wedding gifts, which seem to have been misplaced until now–”
“They went to his townhouse! Nobody knew you were running off to the country until you sent letters from Heatherley!”
“–and now he seems to think he’s going to drop off a person.”
“A person?” Alicia asked, looking from one man to the other.
“It’s Beatrix, of course. Don’t play dumb, cousin. She’s your father’s stupid wedding present.”
Alicia clapped her hands together in delight. The morning glowed a little brighter. “Beatrix is here? Sitting in a coach? Oh, Louis! Bring her in! We’ll have to ready a room at once!”
The butler blinked, but recovered quickly, and set about arranging a room and refreshments for their unexpected guest. Louis gave an exaggerated sigh, tossed his head, and stomped off toward one of the idling coaches. He returned with a bent, spindly vision who seemed to throw off her frailty along with her shawl as she launched herself into Alicia’s arms.
“Oh, pet. How I’ve missed you!”
“Aunt, you have no idea. I’m so glad you’re here! How long can you stay?”
“Why, forever, I suppose. Chadwick’s sent all my stuff with me.”
“He did ship you off, after all!”
“Of course he did, child. He loves us.”
“That’s one way to look at it,” interrupted Louis with one of his more earsplitting cackles.
“Which begs the question,” returned Alicia with a raised brow. “What are you doing here? Certainly you haven’t taken up a se
rvant’s position at Chadwick House, assigned to keep track of wedding gifts.”
“Gifts, no. This old bit of baggage, yes. Chadwick wouldn’t send Beatrix without a companion. When I said I’d do it, he had someone else follow us up with the presents.”
“Well, whether you meant to please me or not, bringing Beatrix has made me happier than I can say. She’s the best gift you could have brought, and I thank you.”
“Oh, I got you something else, too.” Louis fumbled in a small bag and pulled out two delicate glass vases, both beautiful and oddly familiar-looking. “Here.”
“I remember when you got these! Papa bought them for you and you had the bad grace to argue with him about them right there in Chadwick House.”
Louis shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t want them then, and I don’t want them now. I’d just as soon throw them in the river as look at them. If you don’t want them either, that’s just what I’ll do.”
“I’ll take them.” Alicia reached out and plucked the slender vases from his hands.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in? Or to stay the night?”
“No,” Alicia answered with cold finality.
Louis jerked his head back in surprise. “Why not?”
“Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’ve caused me nothing but heartache and I don’t want you in my house. I hope you head back to London first thing in the morning. As I’m married now, you have no further use for me, and I never had use for you.”
“We’ll see,” Louis replied with an injured sniff and a surprising lack of cutting rejoinders. Instead, he spun on one heel and pranced out the door.
Alicia looped her arm through her aunt’s. Almost skipping with happiness, she led Beatrix to the yellow sitting room and seated her in a cushioned chair in view of the fireplace. She rang to have her husband alerted of their guest’s arrival and collapsed in a chair across from Beatrix, eager to hear news of her father and highlights of her aunt’s adventures.