“The earl. As soon as Lord Torrington appears on the stairs, they know to start.”
Trasker nodded and a second later gave a start when the music suddenly began. “La Belle Assemblée March”, a short piece, had most of the servants hurrying to take their positions for the country dance to follow. Alonyius turned to see the Torringtons descend the stairs and watched as they joined the two lines of servants facing one another. He was rather stunned at the simple gold gown her ladyship wore and wondered if she had been concerned about outshining the maids. This was the servants’ ball, after all.
She still outshines them, he thought, seeing as how the countess wore gold and jewels. Her hair looked as if Alice had spent hours dressing it.
She probably did, which is why she isn’t here, Alonyius thought with a bit of annoyance. His attention was on the dancers when the Scottish tune, “Earl Breadalbain’s Reel”, had them moving. Just as the music changed to “Revenge,” Alonyius dared another glance in the direction of the stairs, and he sucked in a breath.
Alice stood on one of the steps in the middle of the staircase, her startled gaze and growing smile taking in the dancers and the change in the room since she had last been there. He stared at her, wondering if the prince in the story of a late gentleman’s daughter-turned-maid felt as he did just then. When the cinder girl appeared at the top of the stairs wearing a gown of blue and slippers of glass.
Thunderstruck.
Mum would say it was lightning, he thought, a slight grin forming just as Alice finally looked in his direction. Her gaze locked on him for a moment—that is, until he suddenly moved. He disappeared for a moment in the midst of the longways dancers, and then was suddenly several steps below her.
Alice managed a curtsy before making her way down to where Alonyius waited for her. He bowed and offered his arm, so she placed her gloved hand on it. “Happy Christmas,” she said in a breathy voice.
“And to you, my lady,” Alonyius replied, his gaze taking in the jewels at her neck and ears. Despite her status as a lady’s maid, she looked as if she could have been a countess.
Blinking—only because he was staring at her—Alice was tempted to wave a gloved hand in front of his face. But she rather liked seeing him appear so... beholden.
So awestruck.
Mrs. Banks would say it was lightning, she thought with a grin. When she could finally look away—the valet did finally regain his wits—it was to discover how much the great hall had changed since that afternoon’s sleigh ride. My, but she hadn’t remembered Worthington House ever appearing as festive as the great hall did just then—even for Lady Torrington’s annual musicale. Besides the candles that lit the tree and those suspended in the rustic chandelier, the room glowed with the light from several candelabras. A hundred candles, she thought as Alonyius led her to the end of the line of maids who had formed up for the next dance.
Despite having worked with several of the maids earlier that day to tie the bows that now decorated the tree, she barely recognized them. They had spent a good deal of time on their hair and wore gowns they had probably sewn themselves.
Not sure what to do at first, she simply watched as the dancers farther down the line joined in the middle and worked their way through the tunnel created by the couples who held their hands above them. She followed suit and was soon enjoying the dance, her glittering gown swaying about her ankles.
Just as she was sure she knew what to do next, the dance ended and the music changed to “Crookie Den”. The Scottish reel had the servants quickly forming into three circles of six, and laughter ensued as some of the footmen couldn’t quite keep up.
Breathless at the end, Alice stepped away from the other maids and fanned herself with a gloved hand. Several servants moved to the refreshment tables, but before she could do so, Alonyius was suddenly there offering her a glass of champagne.
“You are allowed, I hope,” he said with a mischievous grin.
Her eyes widening at his query, she was about to admonish him when she realized he was having a bit of fun. She was tempted to down the entire glass in a single gulp—the dance had been exhilarating. “I am,” she replied with a grin. She allowed her gaze to take in his clothing. Although he always appeared impeccably dressed, there was something different tonight. It wasn’t until she spotted the butler that she realized the two upper servants wore black cravats.
“It was rather generous of Lady Torrington to allow you the use of her jewels this evening. The necklace was a gift from the earl on the occasion of her birthday last year.”
Alice shook her head. “Oh, these are not real. They’re paste,” she insisted, her expression suddenly changing when she noticed the valet giving a slight shake of his head, as if he knew better. Then she remembered she hadn’t been the one to remove them from the jewel box. Her ladyship had done that.
“We’ll be careful with them of course,” he murmured, imagining how she would look wearing them and nothing else. “Will you honor me with both of the waltzes this evening?”
Alice gave the valet a nod before her expression suddenly changed. “I’m not sure I know how to dance a waltz, Mr. Banks,” she replied, her voice coming out a bit breathy.
The valet gave a shrug. “Then I shall teach you,” he countered. “Your gown and those jewels require you show them to their best advantage.”
Sure a blush colored her face just then—she had finally managed to get her breathing under control—Alice said, “Lady Torrington insisted I wear it.”
“It’s gorgeous,” Alonyius whispered, not trusting his voice just then. “They’re playing a sauteuse. The music isn’t the right timing for a waltz, but I can at least teach you the steps,” he offered.
Even before she could agree, the valet had her heading in the direction of the front doors. There, the light from the candles didn’t quite reach. When they were well away from the dancers performing the small leaping steps of the sauteuse, Alonyius reached for one of her hands and placed it in his. “Put your other on my shoulder.”
Alice’s eyes widened. “So close?”
“No. You will stay there, and I shall stay here, and when we move...” He pushed her so she had to take a step back. “We will keep this same distance between us.” He waved the hand that had been placed at her waist to indicate the open area between them. He stepped forward again using his other foot, the hand moving back to her waist to indicate how she needed to move.
“This is rather scandalous,” she murmured as he moved her again, his steps taken in half the time of the music being played just then.
“It’s meant to be,” Alonyius whispered. “But with the waltzing music, it goes a bit faster.” He moved them so their steps took them in an arc.
“You’re awfully close,” Alice breathed moving her hand from his shoulder to wave about in the area between them.
“A deliberate maneuver, I assure you,” he murmured, his eyes nearly black in the shadows.
At the moment her brows furrowed, he suddenly stopped and bent to kiss her.
Had they been alone—had they been anywhere but in the great hall—she might have allowed the intimacy. But not now. They were at the servants’ ball where anyone could see them! She was about to push him away when her gaze took in where they were standing.
Under the kissing bough.
“You bounder!” she accused when he finally lifted his lips from hers. She dared a glance at the other servants, aware that some had taken notice of exactly where they were. And of what they had been doing.
A few of the maids tittered while one of the footmen called a form of congratulations to the valet for being the first to gain a kiss beneath the kissing bough. The music had stopped at some point, as if the musicians wished to pay witness to whatever was going on near the front doors.
“I did not mean to embarrass you,” Alonyius said as he moved them out from under the mass of greenery and paper bows. “There are those here who think we are...”
At the precis
e moment Alonyius thought to inform Alice of his plans for her—for them—the Earl of Torrington cleared his throat and Trasker proceeded to quiet the small crowd so their master could speak.
Once Milton had their attention, he motioned for Adele to join him at the front of the assembly. “Happy Christmas! I do believe my countess and I have managed to dance with just about everyone here, so we’ll be taking our leave shortly so you can enjoy yourselves without fear of censure.”
A murmur of approval passed through the assembled servants before he continued. “For those who were not present at Torrington Park when we first arrived, I’d like to introduce my countess. I have known Lady Torrington since she was in leading strings—”
“Milton!” she admonished him.
“Because she was my best friend’s sister. Always wanted to marry her, but I had to wait until she was available.”
Amusement sounded from those in attendance. “Tonight, she will help me distribute the boxes I would usually give you the day after Christmas.”
This bit of news had the murmurings changing to gasps of surprise. Even Alonyius had to suppress his shock, his attention completely on the earl as Alice stepped aside to put more space between them.
“I can’t keep them a secret any longer, and since they’ve been covering my bed since I arrived, and since I’d like to sleep in my own bed—”
“Milton!” Adele whispered in shock.
“It’s a far larger bed, my sweeting,” he countered, his rejoinder resulting in a round of laughter. “I should like to give them away tonight.”
Several applauded and everyone seemed excited by the news.
From under the tree, the earl pulled out several boxes. Decorated with brightly colored ribbon, bows and a pasteboard tag on which a name was written, the boxes were those the earl had brought in his own coach. He called off a name as he held each one up before giving it to Adele. She took it to the person who stepped forward and gave them the box as well as a “thank you” for their service.
When he called for Mrs. Miller and Trasker, the two servants stepped forward. He presented them each with rather large boxes, his grin broad as he teased the two. “My countess would say the best gifts come in small packages, but I do hope you’ll agree these are good, too.” He turned his attention to the small crowd. “Spyglasses,” he said in a hoarse whisper, his comment met with guffaws.
His claim was countered when Mrs. Miller pulled an ivory brush and comb set from her box, her eyes wide with her delight. Trasker refused to open his, claiming he would do so when he was in his quarters. A round of hisses resulted, but the staid servant held his ground.
The last two boxes were for Alice and Alonyius, the upper servants hesitant as they moved to the front of the group to accept them.
“We’ll not be requiring your services until the morning,” Adele whispered as she gave them each the smallest of all the boxes that had been under the tree.
Not too surprised by her words, Alice dipped a curtsy. “Yes, milady. Ten o’clock?”
Adele nodded.
When everyone had a box—including the musicians—the earl bade them a happy Christmas and goodnight. Offering his arm to Adele, the two bowed and curtsied to the staff and made their way up the stairs.
“Why aren’t they staying?” Alice asked in a whisper.
“The earl never does. This is the servants’ ball, after all,” Alonyius replied as he motioned for the musicians to continue playing. A moment later, “L’Hipparchia”, a piece appropriate for a quadrille, had several groups of four forming into square sets.
Glancing about, Alice noticed a few of the maids opening their boxes, their eyes widening in delight. She watched as one maid pulled an orange from her pastebox box followed by several coins. Another shrieked when she discovered a length of wide satin ribbon as well as the coins. “Do they all get money?” she asked, sotto voce.
Alonyius nodded. “They do. And all the same amount, from the scullery maid to Mr. Trasker,” he explained. “The other gifts are a bit of a guess for him, but he always seems to guess right given the reactions I have seen thus far,” he added, his brow furrowing when he regarded the box he held.
“What did we get?”
The valet allowed a shrug before he grinned. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“Certainly not an orange,” Alice murmured. Her pasteboard box was too small.
“Nor an apple,” he countered, realizing his box was too small for even plums or peaches.
“Candied nuts?” Alice offered as a guess. She rather enjoyed pecans after they had been drizzled with caramelized sugar, but the earl wouldn’t have known that about her. Neither would her mistress.
Alonyius shook his box, but when no sound—not even that of loose coins—was made from the movement, he gave his own head a shake. “I have no idea,” he said, a bit confused. He was sure his master would bestow him with the same sort of gifts the footmen had received.
The two regarded their boxes for a long time before Alice finally plucked the end of the ribbon that untied the elaborate bow. Pulling the two parts of the small box apart, she stared inside for a moment before she dared a glance up at Alonyius. He was reading a paper that had been folded several times to fit in his box, his expression rather curious.
“What is it?” Alice moved to pull out the folded paper from her box, but one of Alonyius’ hands suddenly closed around her gloved hand.
“Not yet,” he said with a shake of his head. “Tomorrow. Wait until tomorrow, won’t you?”
Tempted to ignore his words, Alice regarded the folded note before she dared a glance up. Although Alonyius’ expression was still unreadable, she finally nodded and slid the two parts of the box together. Gathering up the ribbons, she retied the bow as best she could. “Is it... bad news?” she asked then, a sense of dread settling in her stomach.
“No,” he replied in a whisper. “It’s the very best, actually.” He dipped his head a moment before allowing a sigh. He reassembled his box and slid it into a pocket, and he did the same with Alice’s at the same moment the strains of the “Slow Waltz” started. “Will you honor me with this dance?”
Alice nodded. “This will be our third,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly wide. But Alonyius already had her hand in his and another at her waist.
“You won’t be dancing with anyone else this evening,” he said then. At the same moment, he stepped forward, his strong lead forcing Alice to do his bidding. She was about to argue with him about the dancing, but thought it might come out sounding like a complaint and thought better of it.
Besides, the dancing required her complete attention. By the time they had completed a revolution around the room, she found she loved dancing the waltz. She loved being guided by strong hands while resting a gloved hand on a broad shoulder. Loved the simple one-two-three timing and the way her gown flowed in a circle around her feet. Loved how the other couples moved in the same repeating circles and yet were completely disconnected from them. She loved the music.
What she found she didn’t love so much was that no matter where they were in the dance, there was that space between the two of them.
Perhaps it was fortuitous, then, that when the music ended, they were left beneath the kissing bough. Alice closed that space in an instant, her body pressed against the front of Alonyius as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quite thoroughly.
When Alice finally pulled away—she was completely unaware of those who watched them, of those who averted their eyes at the shameless display of affection—Alonyius simply stared at her for the longest time.
“Marry me,” she said in a whisper, her gaze suggesting she might simply be rehearsing the words in her mind. Now that they were out, though, she wasn’t about to take them back. Not when the man had kissed her so thoroughly so many times. Not when he had made love to her with such fervor and then with such tenderness. Not when his gaze seemed to pin her in place, as it was doing this instant, as if he intended to
take possession of her.
No, she wasn’t about to take back what amounted to a demand.
Alonyius blinked, his brows furrowing at the same time his mouth formed a grin. She didn’t exactly ask, he realized as he dropped his forehead to her hair. “I will,” he agreed, his lips moving to hers for a quick kiss. Quick, because the excited murmurs and giggles from the other servants had increased in volume despite the Scottish reel the musicians were playing.
“What are they doing?”
Alonyius dared a glance at the assembly and realized everyone was taking a turn at sitting on the Yule log.
“Not that we’re in need of any, but I suppose we should take a seat for good luck,” he murmured.
Unfamiliar with the custom of sitting on the Yule log before it was pushed into the fireplace, Alice nodded and allowed him to escort her to where a few of the staff members waited in a line in front of the huge log.
Trasker regarded them with an arched brow. “I wasn’t aware you two were married,” he said with what could only be described as a stern expression.
Alice was about to deny the man’s assumption, but Alonyius squeezed her hand ever so gently before lifting it to his lips. “I can understand why you wondered,” Alonyius remarked, pulling the ring from his pocket. “Seeing as how my sweeting hasn’t been wearing her ring,” he added as he moved to pull the long glove from Alice’s hand so he could slide the gold band onto one of her fingers. The diamond glittered in the light from the fire, and Alice stared at it with as much awe as the butler was displaying.
“Why, that must have set you back a bit,” Trasker murmured, almost immediately regretting his words. He straightened, his manner suddenly more serious. “Whatever you do, don’t allow Mrs. Miller to see that.” He reached into his own pocket and pulled out a simple gold band. “Or she’ll never agree to marry me.”
Alice and Alonyius exchanged glances of surprise—at no point had there been any hint that the butler and housekeeper were considering marriage.
The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1) Page 31