by Alice Kirks
“Let’s go,” Matthew said. “I’m going straight there.”
He glanced at Arabella, who was looking up at him, confused. He gestured to the breakfast room, feeling that he’d disturbed her.
“Please, wait for me here?”
“Brother, I want to come too. Do you think something has happened to Alexandra?”
“I don’t know,” Matthew said, feeling as if he was being held in an iron grip. He couldn’t breathe! He looked around, trying to find peace. “I’ll go to the apothecary. Mr. Leighton can start inquiring in town. Someone will have seen her and know where she is. Christiana, you start questioning the others. Maybe someone else saw her go?”
“Very good, your Grace.” She hurried off.
Matthew looked at Arabella, knowing that she would see his distress, and knowing that he could not explain it. “I will find her.”
“I wish I could come,” Arabella said, and he watched her walk slowly into the breakfast-room.
Then, as soon as she was gone, he ran down the stairs. “Tell any visitors I’m out!” he shouted to the housekeeper, Mrs. Pearson, who had appeared in the hallway.
“Yes, your Grace, I’ll be sure to tell them. When will you be back, ?”
He didn’t have time to shout a reply; he was already halfway through the door.
The air in the street was cold, and he shrugged into his greatcoat, glad he’d grabbed it on the way out. The street was busy, now, and he stepped hastily across onto the pavement, narrowly avoiding a coach that raced towards the town square.
“Hey! Mind out!” a man shouted after the coach, shaking a fist at it. Matthew couldn’t help smiling to himself, seeing that. Londoners were a particular sort of people – picking arguments with coaches was nothing to them. He was soon distracted by his increasing fears for Alexandra.
“She could be in danger. There are so many people.”
His eyes alighted on a group of men, dressed in overcoats and one in a battered top-hat, watching the crowd. They were on the edge of the market-square, and he thought that they were keeping deliberately out of the way of the market Watch; clearly up to no good.
He looked around. Where might she have gone? It was best to find the apothecary, he decided. He approached a group of ladies and asked for directions.
“That way, your Grace,” one of them said, pointing down the street, the way he’d come. “But you’d best move swiftly…it’s a long way.”
Matthew nodded, stiff with impatience, and started walking. It was cold and he thought it might rain. He felt his heart thump in his chest, twisting with worry. Where was Alexandra?
“Why did she have to come out now, of all days?” he asked himself. And, if she had simply gone to the apothecary for something or other, why had she not returned? It was strange. She had run away. Somehow, he was sure of it.
He hurried down the street, following the directions.
After walking what seemed like an age, he came to the apothecary’s shop. It had curtains across the window and a name in big gold letters painted on the front. He stared in.
“How may I help you?” the man at the desk asked. Matthew shrugged awkwardly.
“Um…this sounds odd, but I’m looking for a young woman. She is a little shorter than I am, with dark hair in a bun, and…she was probably wearing black, or blue. She has brown eyes and, well…she’s attractive. Did you see her?” he added, blushing furiously as he finished the sentence.
“Attractive young lady, brown hair, about your height…no. Pity, that. Sounds as though I might have wanted to.”
Matthew felt his face twist in anger, but the man lifted a hand.
“No offense meant, young man. If I see her, I’ll let you know. Have you a card?”
“I don’t think that’ll help,” Matthew managed. He pulled out his calling-card and left it on the desk. Then, without any further talk, he went to the door, calling over his shoulder: “If you see her, please tell her to return to her duties. It’s urgent.”
“I shall.”
Matthew hurried out. He had no idea what the apothecary thought, but then it didn’t matter. All that mattered at that moment, was that Alexandra return soon.
“I don’t know what happened. Did I frighten her?” He tried to remember their last conversation. He couldn’t recall saying anything, but he knew that his attitude to her had been unfriendly.
“Oh, dash it.” He ran back down the street towards the house. If she hadn’t gone to the apothecary, where could she have gone?
Back home.
It hit him like a fist. Either she’d returned to wherever she came from – and he had no idea where that was – or she’d returned to Blakeley House. He thought she’d felt safe there, and he regretted ever taking her to London.
“I have to go back.”
He ran towards the house, then turned left, heading up towards the stop for the stagecoach. He knew it was there because the maids used it. He had never taken a stagecoach himself.
“Excuse me,” he said, moving politely through the crowd towards where the coach would stop. “Excuse me…has anyone seen a young woman?”
A few people turned to look at him, and he thought someone laughed at him and he made his hands into fists, worried that he might actually use them. He was feeling a fear that was going to drive him mad.
“Look,” he said, approaching the person who’d laughed. “I am desperate to find a young woman, of around my height, with brown hair.”
“So am I,” the man sniggered.
Matthew felt his fist come up, and he thought he would have hit him, his entire body pulsing with rage. He was about to do something he knew he shouldn’t when he looked across the square.
“Alexandra…”
He trailed off. It was her! There she was, standing in the square, with her suitcase in her hand, alone. She looked at him and he looked at her, and then he was walking towards her and she was walking towards him. He reached out a hand and took hers, heart full.
“Alexandra,” he said. “You’re here.”
She looked up at him, and he felt shame when he saw fear lurking there. She was letting him hold her hand, however, so he felt she couldn’t be too terrified of him. She looked down.
“Your Grace…I had to leave.”
“Alexandra, why did you?” he said. He was becoming conscious of the crowd, waiting for the stagecoach, gawking as though they were a fairground. He stepped back, taking her with him towards the pavement, around the corner of a linen-stall. The market was still not too crowded, and it gave them space to talk.
“I had to,” she repeated. To his horror, she was crying; tears rolling silently down her cheeks. “I couldn’t stay. It’s too dangerous. And you…you don’t want me here.” She sobbed, covering her face with her hands.
“Shh. Shh, Alexandra,” he said, and pressed his handkerchief into her hand. “Shh. Of course, I want you here. I don’t want you to go! Arabella depends on you. We are both so happy that you’re here. Please, don’t leave.”
He blinked, surprised at what he’d said. Had he really just asked her to stay? Why did he do that, when he was so sure she was some sort of danger to Arabella? At very least, she must have a bad reputation.
“Really?” she looked up at him, her eyes still running over with her tears. He reached out and wiped one away, feeling the cool damp on his finger. He looked into her eyes and knew that he couldn’t make her leave. But he did need the answers to his questions.
“Truly. Now, I need to get you home. How long have you been here? It’s dangerous…you know you shouldn’t go out unaccompanied.”
“I know,” she sniffed. She looked up at him sadly, and he wished he hadn’t treated her so unfairly. He should have approached her straight after the ball and found out the truth.
Even if she has a terrible reputation, she could still work for us. She could become a maid, or a hairdresser. She could simply stay in the house, do needlework and teach art and other accomplishments.
“Let’s go home,” he said.
She didn’t argue, but let him lead her to the pavement, and then down into the street, back home again. He wondered how long she’d been gone, and if she’d had a chance to eat anything. He knew she hadn’t eaten breakfast.
“Let’s go back. The breakfast is still on the table, if you should be hungry…?” He looked into her eyes.
She shook her head. “No, I am not. I am very tired…might I rest for an hour?”
“You can rest for the whole morning,” Matthew promised, wincing as he knew that he had to have answers. All the same, he knew that he was not likely to get any sensible information from a person who hadn’t eaten or rested. “And then this afternoon, after luncheon, we must talk.”
“Yes, your Grace.”
Matthew walked back, aware of how withdrawn and indifferent his companion was. She was utterly unlike herself, the young woman who’d argued spiritedly with him about Arabella’s situation.
I don’t know what hasbeen going on, he thought, but in the past month, she has become quiet, aloof and unlike herself.
“You must have been out all morning,” she said.
Matthew shook his head, looking up from contemplating the road. “I wasn’t, actually. We noticed perhaps an hour ago that you were missing, perhaps less.”
She stared up. Her fear had, for the moment, dissolved. Her dark eyes shone.
“You found me? Within an hour of searching? How?”
He grinned. “Lucky guess. I thought you might be going back to Blakeley House. I suppose I do know you, at least a little.”
She looked at him. Her shock was replaced, for a moment, with wonderment. Then, just as quickly, she looked away, back at the cobblestone-road.
“Go up and rest,” Matthew said as soon as they reached the house. She turned and faced him.
“Thank you,” she said.
He looked into her eyes, saw the fear and mistrust, and looked hastily away. He couldn’t bear her to be afraid!
He took her hand, and, for a moment, he felt her soften, holding his hand as she would have a week ago. She looked into his eyes and he leaned forward, knowing that if nothing happened soon, he would kiss her. She turned away at the last moment, going to the stairs.
“I will rest,” she said. “If Lady Arabella needs me, please don’t hesitate to call me. I am always here when needed.”
“Of course,” he said.
He turned away, heart twisting, knowing that he was in a state and knowing that he had no idea what to do about it. His only plan, and he knew it was not much help, was to ride to Blakeley himself, and ask his friend.
Chapter 35
Alexandra sat in her bedroom. She felt too tired to do anything else, as if all the strength in her body had been sapped from her entirely. She looked over at the dressing-table, where her few belongings rested. A hairbrush, a ribbon, and the little cap she sometimes wore to keep her hair out of her eyes in the bed. She felt completely confused. She had tried to get away, and the Duke himself had found her!
“What does he really think?”
He was being so odd! She could half-believe he wished her to go, but then, in moments like when he took her hand, and stared into her eyes that way, as if she were something indefinable and wonderful, she had no idea what he felt.
This is so hard!
She covered her face in her hands. She had been speaking to Arabella in the last day or two, since her debut, trying to answer her questions about men and matters of the heart. Yet, now, she herself felt that she knew nothing. How could she possibly advise anyone when she had no idea herself?
“I need someone to confide in.”
She racked her brains. There was really nobody to talk to! Arabella would simply be laden with her cares, and the only other friendly face here, really, was Brenna. She couldn’t tell her about how she felt about the Duke, who employed all of them! She’d never understand.
She had no-one to tell anything and had to offer some explanation to the Duke.
She knew he was not going to simply forget about her running away. She did owe him to tell him as much as she could. She should already have told him, except that he was generous enough to let her rest!
She pushed the thought aside. She would think of something to tell him. But she did need to rest, and to recover from the morning. She took off her shoes and lay down, fighting for calm.
She had run away from Mr. Hadley. It hadn’t been difficult – she’d simply lost him on the way to the stagecoach. It had meant taking a round-about way, but she had needed to do it, since she felt that he would not leave her alone without that.
And the last thing, she thought, she wanted, was someone wanting an explanation!
She had valued his help, but he had been too demanding. She had been relieved to get away.
“And now, I need to rest before talking to anybody.”
She rolled over, drew her cloak about her, keeping warm. The fire was out, and it was already cold in her chambers.
Then, someone knocked on the door.
“Miss Alexandra? Lady Arabella was looking for you.”
“Oh!” Alexandra shot upright, wiping her face and hastily checking her hair. She had been fast asleep! She grabbed her hairpins and slid one in, holding her bun in place. Then she took off her cloak and ran to answer, feeling awkward.
“Miss Alexandra?”
“I’m fine,” she said, feeling annoyed by Brenna’s question. “Is Lady Arabella abed?”
“No,” Brenna frowned. “It’s only two o’ clock in the afternoon. She is in the dining-room. She wanted you to take some lunch and then to speak with her a while.”
“Oh!” Alexandra flushed. “Sorry. I thought it was later. I’ll go. Is she still in the dining-room?”
“Probably, yes.”
Alexandra nodded.
The smell of delicious roast food wafted out of the dining-room. Alexandra tiptoed in and stood in the doorway. Lord Blakeley was sitting at the table, opposite his sister, who was turned away from the door. Alexandra saw Lord Blakeley look up as she came in, and blushed red.
“Your Grace. Lady Arabella…you called?”
“Yes! Oh, Alexandra! I’m so pleased you’re back! My brother said you had been out looking for the apothecary. How lucky he found you! It is so easy to take a wrong turning in this city.”
“Yes…” Alexandrareplied, whispering. She looked at the Duke. Why had he lied to protect her? She knew that, if he mistrusted her so much, he would have told the truth to Arabella and let her decide what to do. Alexandra doubted Arabella would wish her sacked, but if she felt hurt and betrayed enough? Mayhap so.
He looked back at her, his eyes holding hers. She could read complete trust in that gaze, and it made her breath stop for a second. Here he was, putting himself and his reputation in danger, to help her!
“We must talk later!” Arabella said, turning to look at her. “I want to tell you all about the opera last night!”
“I wished to speak to Alexandra too.”