Yet, there was something more, something beyond Alissa’s understanding. The brooch seemed to reach out to her. The sapphire beckoned to her, wanting to share its knowledge of the past, its hidden promises. Now, as always, an overwhelming need encompassed her.
There was a tap at the door, and Alissa snapped the jewel case shut and hid it in the armoire.
“Mum,” Mary called, “I’ve brought the tray.”
Alissa relaxed. “Thank you, Mary. Please set it beside the door.”
“There’s some herb tea here for ye. Cook made it to chase away the stiffness after the long trip. It’s best taken hot.”
“Tell cook thank you. I appreciate her kindness. And yours too, Mary.”
Mary stared at the closed door and placed the tray beside it. “Can I get ye anything else, mum?”
“No. All is well.”
Mary turned to leave, but pivoted toward the door again. “Oh, mum, I forgot. The master said ye have ten minutes to keep yer appointment.”
Ten minutes! Alissa’s mind exclaimed. Thankfully, while she and Mary were carrying on their conversation through the door, she had finished dressing. “Tell your master I’ll be there, as promised.”
“Yes, mum,” Mary replied, then was off to do as bade.
Her gown buttoned, except for a half dozen along the middle of her back, which she found impossible to reach, Alissa quickly smoothed her hair into a tight knot at the base of her neck. Pinning it haphazardly into place, she covered her shining crown with a heavily woven, oversize net. She’d had no time to powder it. Besides, she thought, why was it even necessary? Jared had never seen her without her bonnet, and since the possibility existed he might demand her presence, day or night, she knew she had to devise an adequate, yet simple method to transform herself into Agatha at a moment’s notice. She didn’t relish the idea of sleeping in her hated disguise. In fact, she refused to do so!
With the tins of Eudora’s special powders in hand, Alissa sat at the mirror and darkened the hollows of her cheeks and beneath her eyes, gently blending the areas with her fingertips. Quickly dusting her entire face with the lighter powder, she brushed away the excess. Viewing herself, she discovered she’d managed to effectively capture the persona of Agatha Pembroke. And within only a few short minutes, too!
In the final analysis, she realized her artwork wasn’t as elaborate nor as expertly done as Eudora’s, but she hoped the disguise was satisfactory. With luck, his first impression of her would stick with him and override any change, should he notice one. It will have to do, she thought as she pulled the hairnet a good inch down over her forehead, then pinched her lips together in a prudish manner. Excellent! She could pass as Agatha’s twin—almost.
Determined to beat Jared’s time limit, which left her only a fraction over five minutes, Alissa gathered the woolen shawl around her shoulders, straightened her back, and with her head held high, marched toward the door. The luxurious softness of the carpet tickled her toes, and she stifled a giggle.
Shoes! She scurried across the room and, without the benefit of stockings, she stuffed her feet into the leather footwear. There was no time to fasten them.
Then, on a prayer and a steadying breath, Alissa opened the door, shoved the untouched tray inside, and marched down the hallway, hoping Jared would not detect the change in her.
CHAPTER
Five
After wending through the hallways of Hawkstone, losing her way several times, Alissa found herself back in the main corridor, just beyond the grand staircase.
She was at a loss as to where her employer might be, for behind each door she’d encountered, she had found an empty room, with finely appointed furnishings. So far, she’d discovered the formal dining room, the main salon, grandly decorated in gold and white, a music room, a game room, plus several locked doors, but no Jared Braxton.
Another doorway stood before her. Peeking inside, she found it was the library, with deep, rich paneling and an enormous collection of books, expensively bound and obviously well cared for. But, again, no Jared. Confused, Alissa moved on.
Finally, at the end of the hallway, she stopped and perused a pair of red velvet draperies, stretching from floor to ceiling. Curious, she pushed one heavy panel aside to find a set of doors. Her hand reached toward the brass handle. It was locked. Frowning, she gazed upward.
Black stained the white marble framing the doorway, and Alissa realized it was the entry to the destroyed east wing. A chill shivered through her for no apparent reason, and she dropped the drape into place.
“I see you’ve decided, at last, to keep our appointment,” Jared crooned, and Alissa whirled, meeting him face-to-face. “And I’d say five minutes late, too,” he continued, his brow rising toward his damp hair, a heavy lock of it falling over his wide forehead. “Tsk, tsk, Miss Pembroke. Punctuality. My time is precious, and I simply cannot abide delays.”
Alissa’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly as she realized he’d repeated the very words she’d spouted when they’d stood in the entryway at Eudora’s while engaged in their battle of wills. “I beg your forgiveness, Mr. Braxton, but I didn’t realize I needed a map to find you. Since you neglected to inform me of the whereabouts of your study, I believe you are equally to blame for my tardiness.”
Jared fought the twitch centering on his lips. For some unexplainable reason, he was starting to enjoy their sharp banter. Although her body was weak, her exterior wrappings unappealing, her mind was as sharp as a well-honed blade. She seemed a refreshing change from the beauties he normally gravitated toward, their minds being of little interest to him.
A humorous light entered his eye. “I stand corrected, Miss Pembroke. Henceforth, precise directions shall be given to facilitate your moves within my home.” He motioned toward the library. “Shall we?”
Alissa paraded past him, gritting her teeth each step of the way. The arrogant boor! she stormed inwardly. Why, if she were a man, she’d … she’d … Knowing Jared had the ability to thrash practically any man inside the borders of Scotland, or out, she quickly decided she’d do nothing.
Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, remembering Eudora’s wise counsel regarding her temper. The advice, however, was becoming harder and harder to follow, especially when the man seemed to take delight in provoking her. The pompous fool!—someday, he’d receive his comeuppance. That she promised herself.
Jared ambled behind his daughter’s governess, noticing her stiff carriage, and could only imagine the curses being heaped upon his head. The formal Miss Pembroke wasn’t the pious prude she pretended to be. Of that, he was certain.
Increasing his gait, Jared strode around Alissa, his highly polished black boots ringing against the parquet flooring in the library. Inadvertently, she inhaled his clean scent; her senses piqued. Dressed in tight-fitting buckskin trousers and a white flowing muslin shirt, several buttons left undone to reveal a collection of crisp dark hair, he displayed a casual disregard toward propriety. Feeling a light blush creep up her face, she knew, unequivocally, in his own home, he’d dress, do, and say whatever he wished. And no rule of etiquette would stop him.
“My study is in here.” Jared entered the smaller room off the library, and Alissa followed. “Please have a seat.” He motioned to the red leather chair across from his solid mahogany desk.
Poised on the chair’s edge, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, Alissa watched as Jared folded his long, sinewy frame into a sitting position. His shirt gaped further, exposing more of his muscular chest, and her gaze quickly skittered to the window.
The mists had turned into a steady rain. Urgently wishing she were out in the cold shower, Alissa envisioned herself such, hoping it would extinguish the sudden flame scorching through her body. Unconsciously, her nails bit into her hands as she fidgeted in her seat.
Jared noticed her uneasiness and assumed, as always, she disliked being alone with him. “May I offer you some sherry?” he asked as he started to rise from his chair,
hoping the drink would help calm her flightiness.
“Spirits are the devil’s henchmen,” Alissa retorted sharply and fell silent, wondering why she’d snapped the words. Her only explanation was she’d heard that very phrase from Agatha’s lips when an inebriated male boarder at Eudora’s had asked the woman to join him in a round.
His hands pressing against his desk, Jared remained somewhere between sitting and standing, a hard eye on the woman opposite him. Finally, with a shove, he gained his full height. “Since you already believe I’m in league with the knave you’ve mentioned, then you won’t object if I partake.” Without waiting for her reply, he strode to the cabinet and poured himself a healthy glass of brandy and downed half of it before he returned to his desk.
Wary eyes upon him, Alissa swallowed hard. His glass thudded to the middle of his desk, while he did the same in his chair. Not liking the look in his eye, she was suddenly tempted to reach across the span, grab the glass, and choke down what remained.
“Miss Pembroke, I realize your sensibilities may be somewhat offended by what I do, but you must remember I’m in my own home, and I will not change my habits or my lifestyle for anyone, whether one likes it or not.”
He leaned back in his chair, and she found she could not release his stern gaze, no matter how hard she tried. Why hadn’t she taken Eudora’s money and run when she’d had the chance?
“Also,” he continued, his sharp eyes pinning her to her chair, “we unfortunately seem to have a great deal of difficulty in communicating. A conflict of personality, perhaps. But, as you know, there is only one reason why you are here, and only one reason why I allow you here—Megan. I do not seek to become your friend, and I’m certain you feel the same about me. We must find a neutral point, however, a common ground from which to work. If you will remember, I gave you the opportunity to turn back, yet you insisted on coming with me. Since you made that choice, and of your own free will, then I will expect you to fulfill your duties, as promised. And you will not leave here until I’m assured they’ve been discharged to the best of your ability, and Megan is well on the mend. So, I suggest you find a way to overlook my sins—which I’m certain you believe are many—because, Miss Pembroke, you may be here for a very long time.”
Alissa’s eyes widened, and she wondered if he intended to keep her prisoner here. My God, what would he do if she failed to make any progress with his daughter whatsoever? She suddenly speculated on whether Hawkstone sheltered a dungeon. Wildly, she envisioned herself stripped to the waist, her wrists chained in irons, breasts pressed to a dank, smelly wall somewhere in the depths of the stone fortress, and Jared standing behind her, shaking free a cat-o’-nine-tails, readying it for her punishment.
“Since it’s understood what I expect, do you have a suggestion as to how we can keep from tearing at each other’s throats for the duration?”
Alissa heard the words from afar, her mind still whirling with visions of Jared tormenting her. Unable to speak, she vigorously shook her head no.
“Then may I propose a way for us to see little of each other, but still make the optimum of the time we must be in each other’s company.”
Alissa nodded, willing to do anything he wanted, so long as she be kept from harm’s way and out of his.
“Good.” Jared retrieved a scrap of paper from the top of his desk. “To keep your stay here to a minimum, I suggest that you be with Megan as much as possible. Of course, you’ll have Sundays off. By choice, you may join us for breakfast at seven; the afternoon meal is also your choice. With my business schedule, I’m not always here for the second meal, so you may wish to dine with Megan on the days I cannot. However, I ask you to join us in the evening at eight. Mrs. Dugan puts Megan down for a nap in the afternoon, usually shortly after her playtime. While she naps, you may do whatever you wish. I expect no less than eight hours per day devoted entirely to my daughter. If you need more, you’ll have it. One hour before supper, we shall meet here to discuss Megan’s progress, whereupon we’ll adjourn to the less formal dining room, downstairs. At your leisure, you may explore the house to acquaint yourself with it. The only places that are forbidden are, naturally, the east wing—Megan is never to go there—and, of course, my own quarters, which are down the hall from yours.”
By this time, Alissa had recovered from her ridiculous delusion that Hawkstone hid a prototype left from the reign of Henry VIII. But, as she digested Jared’s words that his quarters were off limits, she was flustered anew. Did the man think she pranced in and out of a man’s bedroom at will? “Your quarters! Sir, you … you—” she sputtered, unable to get the words out.
“Calm yourself, Miss Pembroke. I only mentioned it, should you lose your way as you just did. On occasion, I’m dressed even more casually than this, and I did not wish for you to find me in a state of total undress. Doing so might shock you. Normally, the door is closed, but if Megan comes in, sometimes she forgets to shut it after herself when she leaves. Come no farther than her room, and you’ll be safe.”
Alissa’s gaze narrowed. Certainly the man didn’t parade around naked before his child’s eyes! “I’ll remember your warning, Mr. Braxton,” she said tightly.
Jared read the accusing look she’d bestowed on him. “My child is not a stranger to seeing me shirtless. But I’m not a complete savage, Miss Pembroke, although you undoubtedly believe otherwise.”
After a long moment, Alissa tore her gaze from Jared’s forceful stare, yet his eyes were still intent on her face. She looked different—less sickly and perhaps a bit younger. Then, exasperated with himself, he shook the thought from his head. Only a short while ago, he’d felt he was beginning to enjoy their duel of words, but now, he was ready to be rid of her. “Does this schedule meet with your approval?” he asked.
Alissa turned her attention to him. “Schedule?”
“Yes, Miss Pembroke. If you’ll recall, we were discussing Megan.”
“I do recall, Mr. Braxton. And yes, the schedule will do fine.”
“Then, supper is at eight.”
“If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to allow myself some time alone this evening. Likewise, I’m certain you and Megan need private time together.”
“As you like, Miss Pembroke.” He passed the schedule to her. “I’ve made some notations, which you may study at your leisure. They’re mostly of Megan’s likes and dislikes; her bath time, playtime, and so on. Mrs. Dugan cares for her personal grooming and the like. My housekeeper keeps to a rigid schedule herself. Should anything on the list conflict with your needs, please discuss it with her.”
Jared rose from his seat, and Alissa did likewise, assuming their meeting had ended.
Picking up his brandy glass, he moved to the cabinet again. “We will see you at breakfast tomorrow.” It was a statement, not a question.
“If you will allow me a few days to ease myself upon Megan, I think things will go much more smoothly for all concerned,” Alissa stated, hoping Jared would agree. She needed time to read Agatha’s journals.
The brandy eased into his glass, and he turned toward her, raising it in salute. “You are probably right.” Then he swallowed a large portion of the amber liquid. “Should you need anything, let me know. Good day, Miss Pembroke.”
Relieved she’d been granted a reprieve, Alissa hastily turned. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten her shoes were undone. On her first step, she walked fully out of one.
Noting her predicament, Jared headed in her direction, but luckily, Alissa grabbed the traitorous thing and stuffed her foot into it before he’d reached her side. Straightening, she nearly collided with her employer. And, for but a moment, blue eyes met green.
Jared’s steadying hand fell from her arm. “On the morrow, Mr. Stanley will take you into Selkirk,” he said as he moved back to the cabinet and his brandy. After another deep swallow of the fiery liquid, which seemed to cool the unexplainable blaze sweeping through his veins, he continued, “You are to purchase new shoes—a pair that fit your fee
t.”
Embarrassed, Alissa whirled, fleeing the room, and Jared stared at the empty doorway, his glass held loosely in his hand, a perplexed frown marked deep into his brow.
CHAPTER
Six
Alissa sat to one side of the playroom, Agatha’s small volume of Shakespeare’s Sonnets in her hand, a letter hidden between its pages. Across the room, Megan played quietly.
It had been nearly two weeks since her arrival at Hawkstone, a miserable two weeks to be certain. If she wasn’t engaged in an exchange of inhospitable words with Jared or in an earnest attempt to elude him, she was doing the same with Leona Dugan, the latter having become as great an irritation as the former.
Thankful Jared had allowed her the freedom to set her own pace with Megan, she’d utilized the interval to study Agatha’s journals. According to the late Miss Pembroke, the first week or two, possibly longer, depending upon the child, should be the time of “acceptance.” No attempts were to be made to work on the child’s handicap until a semblance of trust and friendship was forged, Agatha’s thoughts being the child could easily balk if a stranger were suddenly thrust upon him. Caution, kindness, and always keeping one’s word seemed the orderly fashion in which Agatha had gained her “acceptance” with all her children. And that’s what Alissa had planned to do with Megan.
Once she’d absorbed all the important information in the journals, Alissa was certain she could act as Agatha’s surrogate. Preparing her own schedule, she’d approached Mrs. Dugan as Jared had suggested. Unfortunately, it did little good. In fact, she’d been shocked by the housekeeper’s unwillingness to cooperate. It almost seemed that the woman didn’t want Megan to speak, for Mrs. Dugan had denied each and every request, minor as they were.
“The child needs a long nap,” the housekeeper had snapped when Alissa had innocently requested a change in the daily practice. “I lay her down at precisely two o’clock, and she’ll not rise until half past three.”
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