The Misadventures of Miss Adelaide

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The Misadventures of Miss Adelaide Page 5

by Dallen, Maggie


  And then there was that sack, hanging over her shoulder.

  He let out his breath on a shaky exhale.

  It was her.

  Adelaide.

  And she’d run.

  But what on earth was she doing here? He opened his mouth to call out to her but stopped short. If he shouted, she would run. How did he know this? He wasn’t sure, but there was no doubt in his mind. This was the second time she’d run, and whatever had brought her here—on her own and in the middle of the night?

  Well, something told him this was at the heart of her secrets.

  And whether he liked it or not, Alec desperately wanted to know her secrets.

  He watched in silent fascination as Miss Addie Adelaide—what a ridiculous name—made her way hastily up the steps and knocked on a door. Clearly shivering, she glanced from side to side before knocking again. Banging loudly this time as she huddled in on herself.

  It wasn’t a cold night, but there was a chill in the air that her thin shawl would do nothing to stop. He started toward her. This was ridiculous. He could not just stand here watching her shiver.

  Whatever it was that had drawn her from the comfortable and safe confines of Miss Grayson’s school, it could hardly be worth freezing to death. He’d gone three paces when the door opened. An elderly woman poked her head out, and while he could not hear what was said, he’d have bet his entire fortune that the stranger was chastising Adelaide, who’d hunched in on herself as she nodded meekly, her hands clasped together in a plea.

  What on earth?

  Alec straightened his shoulders and strode toward her with more confidence. Whatever was going on here, it was time he intervened. He was an Earl, for heaven’s sake. If Miss Adelaide needed assistance, surely he was the one to—

  His mind went blank as a young child was unceremoniously thrust across the doorway. The elderly woman pushed the youngster into Adelaide’s arms, and she held the thing close.

  What the—

  And then it all clicked into place. It all became clear.

  The girl had gotten pregnant. She’d run away from home and had a babe out of wedlock.

  His heart twisted painfully in his chest at the thought of this girl on her own. The door slammed shut in her face, and she turned to leave, the child clutched tight.

  Alec’s chest tightened again at the sight of Adelaide with a child in her arms. Where was she going? What did she plan to do?

  She paused there on the sidewalk, and he had the feeling she was wondering the same thing. Her indecision did away with his own, and he strode toward her, noting her jolt of surprise and fear when she heard him approach.

  He didn’t miss the moment when she registered who was walking in her directions. Her feelings about seeing him were clear. Very clear.

  She was horrified.

  Shocked, yes, but there was a distinct flare of horror in her eyes, as though she feared him.

  Him. The one who’d tried to save her. Her horror had him clenching his jaw in irritation, and he needed no mirror to know that his heavy brow was drawn down in a fierce scowl.

  He hadn’t the energy to care.

  “What are you doing here?” Addie asked, her voice breathless with shock as she clutched her child tighter.

  “What am I doing here?” It came out through clenched teeth. But really, of all the foolish, naïve actions… “Do you have any idea how dangerous the streets are to young ladies alone at this time of night?”

  Her head jerked back in shock at the anger in his voice that he didn’t try to hide. She drew herself up to her full height. “I hardly believe Mayfair is the most dangerous neighborhood in London, my lord.”

  He stalked closer and watched with a flicker of admiration as she tilted her chin up and held his stare. Most grown men would have gone running by now. But not this young lady… His eyes fell to the babe in her arms, a fat little thing with chubby cheeks and eyes that drooped as though he were seconds away from sleep.

  Maybe because she was a mother she had more nerve than most. Or maybe it came from how she was raised. He eyed her from head to toe, not bothering to hide his interest.

  She intrigued him, was that so wrong?

  Yes! A voice of reason told him just how wrong that was. He was in town for the season to find a wife, start a family—not rescue fallen women and their bastard children.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  She licked her lips, and he could not look away. His body grew warm with wanting even as his heart did that painful twist that was really starting to become quite irksome. He hated seeing her look so nervous. So desperate. It did things to him. It made him feel things that he had no place feeling.

  In no world should he feel so possessive of a young lady who meant nothing to him—who could mean nothing to him.

  He wasn’t some romantic fool—his best friend Royce had always played that role. He was the pragmatic one. The cynical one. The one who never lost his head, let alone his heart. He thought through his actions and moved through life making careful, calculated decisions while his friends lived for depravity and diversions.

  “I have a place to go,” she said.

  “Do you?”

  She blinked and pressed her lips together. She wasn’t certain. She had an idea, that much was clear, but she did not know for certain. He could only imagine the worries she was facing. Would she be welcome? Would there be a room? Would she have enough money for food?

  Every thought made his ribcage feel too small. Anger coursed through him, and he accepted it happily. Anger was so much easier to deal with than this absurd worry for a near-stranger’s welfare.

  “You’re coming with me,” he snapped, turning before she could argue. “Again.”

  He didn’t hear her move, and after he’d gone a few steps he stopped. “You can either go with me now, or I will track you down in the morning.”

  Her quick intake of air was hard to decipher. Had he shocked her with the threat? Or was it anger that he’d spoken to her so. He didn’t care either way. “I have a feeling Miss…what was her name? Miss Haversham? I feel confident she’d be able to help me locate you should you run away for a third time.”

  This time when he strode away, he heard her scurry after him. A true gentleman would have shortened his strides, but Alec was too angry. “What were you thinking?” he spat out a little while later as they turned onto his street.

  “I can explain—”

  “You could have been killed. You could have been hurt or—”

  “But I wasn’t.”

  It was the worst thing she could say. He spun to face her, and he had to force back a growl of rage in the face of her open face, her sweet naiveté, at the sheer injustice of a world that had left her standing here with him, with no better options.

  “Who did this to you?” He gestured a hand toward the baby.

  She blinked at him as if in incomprehension. “My lord, I—”

  “Who left you this position?” he said. He was definitely growling now, and he watched her eyes widen in alarm. “I will not hurt you.” He said it as calmly as he could. “But I will kill him.”

  This was likely not the best way to reassure her, but he’d long since lost his battle with reason. He blamed it on the late hour or the drink he’d had before he’d left the house. Whatever it was, he was clearly not in his right mind as he leaned down so his face was close to hers. “Tell me who fathered this child, and I shall have him drawn and quartered.”

  She blinked so rapidly he thought she might start to cry. But instead, he caught the hint of a smile. A huff of air, almost like a hysterical little laugh. “I can’t…that is, I don’t—”

  “Do not try to protect the swine,” he snapped. “Whoever takes advantage of a young innocent girl like yourself and then leaves her to fend for herself…” He shook his head, trying to regain sanity and failing miserably. “And your parents. What do they have to say for themselves?”

  He saw her
grow pale in the moonlight. “My parents are dead, my lord.”

  He cursed under his breath. And then he cursed again, louder this time. Then he turned to her once more. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Then she added with a soft sigh, “Me too.”

  Her answer was so simple, so sincere—it finally broke through his anger, and he felt it seep away as he tore off his overcoat in jerky movements and draped it over her and the child. “Come inside.”

  “I shouldn’t,” she said. “I appreciate that you wish to help me, but my situation it is…it is complicated.”

  He let out a huff of rueful amusement. “Complicated, eh? Maybe for a sheltered girl from a good home, but I assure you, you are hardly the first young lady to have, er…” He nodded toward the child. “To find oneself in a predicament.”

  She stared at him for a second before bursting out in a laugh. She clapped her hand over her mouth, and her eyes widened as she shook her head as though she too could not believe she was laughing.

  For a moment he found his own lips twitching with amusement as he watched her battle a million emotions, all of which seemed to be coming out in the form of laughter, even as tears brimmed her eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” she said on a gasp.

  He narrowed his gaze, his lips still quirked up in a grin. “Are you laughing or crying?”

  “Both?” She shrugged, nudging the baby in the process so he lifted his little blond head and peered at his mother in curiosity. The child’s mouth spread wide in a toothless grin as he laughed, which seemed to make his mother laugh even harder, which then made him laugh.

  “This is not a humorous situation,” she said at last, swiping at her eyes.

  “No,” he said sobering instantly. “Indeed, it is not.”

  “Lord Tolston, I understand that you mean well,” she started.

  “You will stay here.”

  She blinked at him, but he was certain her surprise could not have been any greater than his. “You said yourself, I cannot—”

  He held up a hand. “Just for tonight.”

  The fear in her eyes was very nearly his undoing. “I cannot leave Reggie.”

  He sighed as he eyed the child. “Reggie, eh? Pleasure to meet you, Reggie. Welcome to my home.”

  The child cooed as Adelaide shifted him to her other hip. “But—but I could not ask—”

  “You are not asking, and I am not offering,” he said in his best Earl voice. The one that made grown men quake.

  She arched her brows in surprise, and he could have sworn her lips twitched with suppressed amusement. “Then you are…ordering me to stay here. With you. With my child?”

  He pressed his lips together in annoyance at the way she said it. Her amusement was equally irritating and admirable. Once again he was struck by the enigma before him—a lady so sweet and naïve, yet one who’d also born a child. A lady so frightened and wary, and yet unafraid to look him in the eyes and…and tease him.

  A lady who’d been so weak she’d fainted at his feet, and yet she braved the streets and a life of hardship to care for this child. He made a note to ask her who that woman had been—or better still, he’d have Gregory look into it.

  Yes, he’d have Gregory use his charm to dig for information. And when he was done interrogating the old lady—kindly, of course. Gregory could kill with his kindness. Then he’d set him on Miss Emmaline Haversham.

  It was clear that young lady knew something. Perhaps if he gathered some more pieces to this puzzle, it would all become clear.

  Alec met her curious stare as she eyed him with a bravery that belied her wariness.

  Maybe if he figured out the puzzle, he’d stop being so fascinated with Miss Adelaide.

  “We are clear then,” he said. “You and Reggie will stay here tonight. Tomorrow you will return to Miss Grayson’s school—”

  “But Reggie—”

  “We will find a place for Reggie.” He glowered down at her. “Neither myself nor Miss Grayson is as cruel as you seem to think.”

  “I do not think—”

  “You will stay.” His voice was sharper than intended because all his earlier fears were back—all that might have happened to her. What he might have lost…

  Stupidity, all of it.

  Still, he leaned down until his nose nearly brushed hers. “Know this, Miss Addie Adelaide. If you run, I shall find you.”

  Chapter 5

  Addie fretted with the edge of her bedsheet, listening to the soft, even sound of Reggie’s breathing softly beside her.

  One thing was clear. She would have to run.

  She turned her head to face the sleeping child. Not tonight, obviously. They both needed to rest. Her heart ached at the sight of his sweet little face. What she was going to do with him now, she had no idea, but, despite that—she’d felt relief when Mrs. Grishna had handed him over to her tonight.

  Mrs. Grishna had been angry because she’d been so late to arrive with her money and the extra food, but Addie hadn’t heard a word of the rant once Reggie was in her arms. His warm solid weight on her should have felt like an anchor—without him in her life she might have been able to stay at that lovely school. Maybe even gotten her second chance in society somehow. Miss Grayson’s had been tempting, and a little part of her would love nothing more than to believe she could go back to that life. But after all she’d been through, going to balls and marrying for love…it seemed like a silly childish dream.

  Besides, without Reggie, she had no one.

  She’d take life as a scullery maid with her little family over a lifetime of parties alone any day.

  But how? Her stomach did that thing it now loved to do, churning like the sea as every doubt and fear swept through her.

  How would she manage now?

  How would she provide for Reggie?

  She took a deep breath and held it. It was not fair, she decided. She was exhausted and wished for nothing more than the sweet relief of sleep…and yet now was the time when her mind chose to ask every question she could not answer.

  On top of that, her stomach growled. Lord Tolston had tried to force some food into her and Reggie when they’d first arrived—he’d woken Mrs. Harper who’d fussed over her and Reggie like a mother hen.

  It had been sweet, really. She’d always respected Mrs. Harper, but she’d never seen her like that before—all motherly concern and doting sing-song tones for Reggie. But Reggie had been falling asleep in her arms, far too exhausted for food, and she’d insisted on going with him.

  She’d offered to go to her old room, but both Tolston and Mrs. Harper had insisted on her using one of the lavish guest rooms so there’d be more room for the two of them.

  She looked over at Reggie who was sprawled haphazardly in his sleep. They’d had a point, she supposed. But being in this luxurious room…it only added to her unease.

  She didn’t belong here. It felt far too much like her old life, the one she’d walked away from. Maybe that was why she could not sleep. Being here in this room was only adding to her confusion about who she was and the life she was meant to have.

  She’d given up all those old dreams when she’d left, and then…

  Her mind flashed on an image of Lord Tolston, glaring down at her. The intensity in his eyes, that spark of fear that she’d caught there. Almost like he’d cared about her safety.

  About her.

  Utter hogwash. She threw the covers aside with a quick jerk, slipping out of bed with a new sense of urgency. She needed to move. To act. If she were to lay there one more second, she’d drive herself crazy with all these errant thoughts.

  The nice thing about having worked in the home where one currently was a guest was that she knew her way around. In bare feet, she padded silently through the hallways and down the grand staircase.

  The vaulted ceilings seemed to echo with the sound of her footsteps as she stole down the hallway toward the kitchen. Once there she took a deep breath of relief
. Oddly enough, she felt more comfortable here with the still smoldering fire and the smells of the day’s cooking than she had in the elegant guest room.

  She saw some bread sitting out and went over to it.

  She hadn’t felt at ease in this kitchen as a servant, and she didn’t feel at ease as a visitor…perhaps she’d never find a place where she truly felt she belonged, but she could at least ease her hunger.

  That was a start.

  She reached for a knife and began to cut off a hunk.

  “If you are running again, you are doing a poor job of it.” Tolston’s low voice made her squeak in alarm as she whipped around, the knife in front of her.

  He eyed it with a smirk that made her knees grow weak. “Are you threatening me in my own home?” His brows arched. “And with a bread knife?”

  She looked down at the blade and then dropped it to her side quickly. “You startled me.”

  “I might say the same.” He crossed his arms as he fixed her with a glower. “Were you running away?”

  She looked down pointedly at her night rail and arched her brows just as he had.

  “Very well.” He gave a huff of amusement. “Couldn’t sleep, then?”

  She shook her head.

  “Too hungry?” By the amusement that tinged his voice, she suspected he knew very well that hunger wasn’t all of it.

  “That and I fear my mind has a way of racing away without me at night,” she admitted.

  His lips quirked up on one side in a look that was positively dangerous. She found herself holding her breath for no good reason.

  “Welcome to the club,” he said, lifting his right hand which held a glass filled with an amber liquid. “Come,” he said, nodding toward the hallway where he’d just arrived. “Grab your little meal and join me.”

  “Oh, I could not—”

  “I insist.” His tone brooked no argument and he turned and walked away before she could try.

  With a weary sigh, she finished cutting the bread, found herself a plate and poured a large glass of milk. When she could dawdle no longer, she followed in his path with the plate and glass in hand.

 

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