Alison's Scandalous Affair (The Fallen Angels NOVELLA series Book 1)

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Alison's Scandalous Affair (The Fallen Angels NOVELLA series Book 1) Page 7

by Julianna Hughes


  The permanent disabilities he now had to deal with, coupled with the culmination of his twenty-year vendetta to avenge his wife’s and child’s murder, had left John feeling adrift at sea with no rudder or sail.

  He still had his law firm to give him purpose. And he would still help those who needed his and his firm’s help. But until he’d had to face the possibility of no longer being an active part of the investigations, he hadn’t realized just how much they had become a part of his life.

  So, over the last three months, he had made some pivotal decisions. The first was that he would run any investigations from his office from now on. And the second was to find a way to get Ali to allow him to court her openly.

  So, his original plan to just continue his friendship with Ali and her family had transitioned into a disorganized and surreptitious courtship of her. Not that his covert courting of Ali was hard on him. It wasn't even emotionally difficult or stressful. In fact, he quite loved the time he got to spend with her and her daughters.

  But there had been unforeseen elements to his spending so much time with her that he hadn't counted on. The first was Ali's friend and servant, the formidable Mrs. Amanda Baker, an older woman of indeterminable years with steely grey hair, suspicious blue eyes, and the personality of a seasoned army sergeant. Officially she was the girls' combination nursemaid and governess. Unofficially, she was Ali's constant companion and frontline defense against him and any advances he might make toward her employer, which meant that she accompanied them everywhere they went.

  He hadn't minded at first, as he had just wanted a chance to get to know Ali and her girls. But as the weeks went by, her interference became more problematic. He loved the time he got to spend with Rebecca and Phyllis, he had even begun to think of them as part of his family. But after the first couple of outings, Ali had begun excusing herself from joining them and sent his nemesis, Mrs. Baker, in her stead.

  The second problem with his plan was his own runaway desire for Ali. Or more to the point, her continued rejection of any of his more amorous overtures toward her. Not that she was unaffected by his awkward courtship. She just made sure their relationship never, ever went beyond the bounds of the friendship that he had declared in Hyde Park three months ago.

  In desperation he sought out the advice of two of his friends: Mary, his brother’s wife, and Katie, the Duchess of Belfort. Together they had come up with the perfect solution to his problem, an upcoming weekend birthday party for one of his nephews.

  The party was being held at Harvest Hill, one of his father's properties. A small manner house less than an hour's drive from the city, surrounded by beautiful parklands, a private lake, and a gaggle of geese and ducks for the girls to play with. And with the whole Netterman clan present, along with a number of neighbors and friends, it would prove the perfect opportunity to spend time with Ali while the girls got to know the rest of his family.

  "Are we there yet?" Phyllis asked for the third time.

  "Almost, poppet," he replied.

  They had just turned off the main road and were about to pass through the majestic Harvest Hill gates. Another three or four minutes and they would be in front of the Elizabethan manner house. Off in the distance he could already hear the screams of the children and the voices of his family as they raucously played in front of the lake. The presence of his family was what he loved most about the place. It was where he had come to recover after his wife's murder, and over the years it was where he came when he needed to be reminded why he did what he did.

  "They’re playing pall-mall, Uncle John!" Penny squealed. It was a game that usually disintegrated into a lot of yelling, laughter, and hilarity that more often than not saw no clear winner or losers. Just great fun for everyone.

  "Can we play?" Phyllis asked.

  "I think that can be arranged," he replied. He felt Ali stir beside him and turned to her. He saw a worried look on her face and quickly sought to reassure her and the girls.

  "They usually take a break for the noon meal, which should be about now. Once they've rested for an hour or so, they'll begin a new game. If not pall-mall, then shuttlecock or something else. But I must warn you," he teased, "my family has a tendency to bend the rules a little bit. No matter what game they are playing."

  He winked at Ali and saw a funny look flicker across her face. Covering her hand, he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "It is just goodhearted fun, is all."

  He knew she liked teaching her daughters to play fair and not cheat, and what his family did during pall-mall wasn't really cheating. At least he hadn't ever thought of it as such. But he hadn't ever looked at it from an outsider's point of view either.

  "They don't have to play, if you don't want them too," he offered. The last thing he wanted to do was damage his chances with her over a silly game.

  He saw her jaw drop a little and then she cocked her head to the side in her adorable way. "Are you going to play?" she whispered.

  "Of course," he automatically answered, and then amended, "You don't mind, do you?"

  "No, of course I don't mind," she said, and then her eyes narrowed on him. "I just didn't know if you would..."

  She trailed off and he waited before asking, "If I would, what?"

  He could see her searching his face for something and then shake her head ever so slightly. "Do you think I could play as well?"

  "Of course," he replied, and felt his face split into a huge smile.

  "Yay, mummy is going to play!" Phyllis crowed. "I want to be on Uncle John's team. And mummy, you can be on Penny's team."

  He turned toward Phyllis with what he knew was a silly grin on his face, then jerked back around when he felt Ali suddenly pulling her hand free of his. The joy he had felt from Phyllis wanting to be on his team died when he saw the shattered look on Ali's face. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and flickering back-and-forth between him and her daughter. His heart clinched in his chest and his stomach churned. Something was horribly wrong. Instinctively, he knew he was responsible for it.

  He reached over and grasped her hand and squeezed. “Sweetheart, she can be on your team," he whispered franticly.

  She sniffled and looked away. "No, it is fine," she said softly, then added a bit stronger, "I would love to be on Penny's team." Blinking her eyes, she looked back at him and in a too bright voice added, "But don't think that Penny and I are going to go easy on you two just because you have Philly on your team."

  He forced a smile as the two little girls bounced up and down on the seat across from them. "Oh, he won't mummy," Phyllis said. "Uncle John is great at playing games."

  Her worried gazed searched him as she asked, "Are you? Good at playing games?"

  He grinned and shrugged. "I grew up with three brothers and a precocious sister, along with a multitude of cousins and neighbors. As children we were always getting into various scrapes or troubles. So, our parents tried to keep us occupied with games of one kind or another." He grinned sheepishly at her. "It usually worked for a few minutes."

  "And you still enjoy playing them... with the children?" she asked.

  He could hear disbelief in her voice and wondered at it. "My parents always enjoyed participating in the games as well. And I guess my brothers and sister have just carried on the tradition."

  John could tell she wanted to ask more questions, but their coach pulled to a stop and the excited voices of his nieces could be heard approaching. Not just for them but for the coach following them. The one with the rest of their party—his brother Gregory, his sister-in-law Helen, and their two girls.

  Suddenly the coach door opened, and he could see his smiling mother. "Hello mother," he called out.

  "About time you got here," she replied. "Greta and Jenny have been pestering your father and I on when Penny and her new friends would be arriving."

  Just then, two little girls squealed as Penny and Phyllis bolted from their coach and began an excited dance while chattering a mile a minute with two
of his nieces. He smiled and then stepped down to give his mother a hug.

  "Where is she?" she whispered in his ear. It seemed his whole family was aware of the time he had been spending with the widow, Mrs. Sheiling. Which wasn’t surprising, since he had avoided all such entanglements for twenty years.

  Releasing her, he grinned and then turned back to the coach. He proffered Ali his hand and said, "Welcome to Harvest Hill, and my family's insanity."

  Chapter 9

  Alison was falling in love. Which was disastrous. Actually, she was afraid she was already in love with John. And that was before she learned he played games with her daughters—something Amanda had never reported to her.

  And apparently, he enjoyed it too. Something her husband would have never done, much less admit to. She might have chalked it up to John’s attempts to persuade her into a courtship. She knew that was what he really wanted, not just a friendship with her. And despite her resolve to keep their relationship on a friendly footing, she was falling in love with this wonderful, sweet man who had threaded himself into her life.

  Her husband had simple but unbendable rules where children were concerned. But one of his main rules was, Gentlemen do not play with children. It just isn't dignified. He had told her that so often that she began cringing whenever Becky would go near him. Sadly, her daughter had eventually figured out that her father didn't want anything to do with her, and it had broken Alison's heart, as Becky had adored him.

  What made it worse was that Alison had known it was a lie. At least, it hadn’t been true about some of the other officers who had their children with them. But her husband didn't play with children. In fact, he didn't even like being around anyone else's children. Children should be seen when necessary but never heard. At least not by him. That was her job. Hers and the nursemaid he had allowed her to hire.

  Of course, Phillip had other rules where Becky was concerned. Rules that insured he had very little to do with a messy, noisy, troublesome child. Not that Becky had been any more of those things than any other child of her age. He wouldn't have known that though, as he avoided all children under the age of eighteen. Especially if they happened to be female. Of course, his edicts had also ensured that he had spent very little time around Alison as well.

  It is a woman's job to raise the children. And it is a man's job to protect and care for them. At least in that regard she had no complaints. Phillip had protected and cared for them, and he had financially provided for them. Very generously in fact. He had just done so from as far away as he could. Especially during the last several years of their marriage.

  As a young child, Becky had been devastated by his aloof attitude. She couldn't understand why her father wouldn't have anything to do with her. Not that he had ever been mean or hateful, he just had no patience with Becky.

  Alison was jarred back to the present when John handed her down from his coach, and then helped the two little girls down as well. Off to her right, she could see Gregory and Helen exiting the second coach in their little caravan. Becky quickly followed, and then Mary. Once the others joined them, he turned her toward the older woman he had hugged.

  "Mother, might I make known to you Mrs. Alison Sheiling. And her daughters, Miss Rebecca Sheiling and Miss Phyllis Sheiling."

  "Mrs. Sheiling, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," the Countess of Exetter said. "I've heard so much about you from my son and from Helen."

  The countess was a short, round-faced woman with John’s soft brown eyes. A wealth of white curls topped her head, and a blue-and-white silk day dress adorned her full figure. A wide, welcoming smile lit the woman’s face as she held her hands out to Alison.

  The disquiet Alison had felt in coming here flared up again. Initially, she had declined the invitation because it was too intimate. Too much like they were courting and he was introducing her to his family.

  But then Helen had shown up the next day for tea and had assured her that Alison would be going as her guest and not John's. So, between the barrage of pleas from Helen and both her own daughters, she had given in. With the understanding that she was going for Helen and for the sake of Becky and Phyllis. She had known that was a lie, despite how many times she tried to convince herself it was the truth.

  But there was no mistaking the gleam in the countess's eyes. Whether John had intended it or not, his family saw her as a possible future daughter-in-law. That thought should have horrified her. The problem was that she no longer knew how she felt about the whole courting business. In fact, she had already decided to renew her offer for a discrete affair with him. But did she really want him openly courting her?

  The answer was... she still didn't know. Not anymore. There were just too many variables. Too many fears that, deep down, John might be just like Phillip. After all, she had never suspected Phillip of being the kind of man he was until it was too late. Alison wanted more time before she'd even consider changing her mind about marrying him. An affair was one thing. Marriage was for life. So she was sure she didn't want his family seeing her as a potential in-law. Not now anyway.

  The countess hooked her arm through Alison's and turned them to greet her eldest son and daughter-in-law. "Gregory, Helen, it is so wonderful to see you two. I was so afraid you wouldn't be able to make it this year."

  Alison saw Helen's hand slip down and cover her stomach. "It is early on, Mother Netterman. And this one seems to be going easier than the first two."

  "No morning sickness?" the countess asked.

  "Just in the mornings this time," Helen answered.

  Startled, Alison pulled away from the countess and went to hug her new friend. "Helen, you're pregnant?" Helen smiled sheepishly back at Alison. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  Pulling away from Alison, Helen grimaced a little and then smiled. "I miscarried two babies." She glanced over at her husband and then back at Alison. "We wanted to wait this time before we told the rest of the family. At least until we were sure I would carry it to term."

  Alison could understand her friend's reasoning. She had miscarried three times herself. Each time she had been devastated over the loss. Phillip, on the other hand, had been relieved. So much so she hadn't even bothered telling him when she became pregnant with Phyllis. Not until it was too obvious to be ignored.

  "Oh praise God," the countess crowed from behind her. "I remember how you suffered with Mary and Penny."

  Glancing over, Alison saw Helen's husband beaming with pride. His arm was wrapped protectively around his wife's shoulder and his hand was lovingly covering her hand where it rested over their child. A familiar twinge of jealousy assailed her, and she quickly turned away.

  Phillip had never beamed about her pregnancies. With Becky, he had been mildly happy when he first found out he was going to be a father. But as her morning sickness persisted, he became more and more distant. At first, she thought he was just being considerate. Then as time passed and her pregnancy advanced, he began making excuses for why he didn't want to touch her. Why he needed to be away from their home more and more, and for longer and longer periods.

  It was the reason she had not told him about her last pregnancy. She knew in her heart that once he knew she would lose what little of him she still had. She just hadn't expected it to be forever.

  Forcing a smile for her new friend, she said, "Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. For the both of you" There were tears in her eyes and she prayed her friend attributed them to happiness and not the sharp pain that was ripping through her.

  Suddenly John was by her side and pounding his brother on the back. "Congratulations old boy," John said, "I'm so happy for the two of you." He then turned to Helen and enfolded her in a huge hug. "Another niece for me to spoil," he whispered loud enough for everyone to hear. She heard everyone laughing good-naturedly and felt another twinge of envy.

  Helen winked at him, her face alight with happiness. "It might be a nephew this time."

  Alison heard him laugh and felt another piece of
her heart fall away. "I'll still spoil him," he boasted. "Two more and you'll catch up with Henrietta and that loafer she calls her husband."

  Alison started, as what John had told her about his sister flashed back. Henrietta had married an importer by the name of Charles Dobb, a commoner who had risen from merchant seamen to owner of his own fleet of ships. A wealthy man by all accounts. And the two of them now had five children. The eldest son was the same age as Becky, and the youngest boy nearer Phyllis's age. They also had twin boys that were fourteen and a girl that was ten, if Alison remembered correctly. He most definitely was not a slacker of any kind.

  Gregory slapped John on the back and the two brothers shook hands as the earl and countess enfolded Helen in more hugs. Swallowing her jealousy, Alison took a step back to allow the family room to congratulate the expecting parents. She loved seeing loving families like the Nettermans. She always had. But at times like these she couldn't help resenting the indifference she had felt from Phillip and his family toward her own daughters.

  "Ali?" she heard John say, and glanced up to see a worried look on his face.

  She froze where she was and pasted a cheery smile on her face. Opening her mouth, she tried to congratulate him on the forthcoming new member of his family, but nothing would come out. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get a word past her lips.

  In three steps he was directly in front of her and effectively blocking her from the view of his family. "Ali, are you alright?"

  Swallowing the lump in her throat, she bit down hard on her lower lip as she nodded her head. She saw his hands rise as if to enfold her in his arms and then freeze. She had told him in no uncertain terms before they left that he was not to make his family believe they were an item.

  Which meant no hand holding, excessive hugging, or unnecessary affectionate displays of any kind. All of which he had attempted on any number of occasions over the last couple of months. They were friends and nothing more. And she was coming to his parent's home as a guest of Helen and her husband, not his.

 

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