“I want you to hold off demanding an accounting of your share until you hear from me. The situation, as it stands, could place you in danger.”
Suddenly the music coming from the ballroom sounded discordant to Royall’s ears.
Chapter Fourteen
Alicia dragged herself around the gilt and baroque sitting room. Absently she picked up one object after another, pretending to look at it. Her hands trembled as she carefully handled the priceless objects. She was pretending again, just like yesterday and the day before that. She had been pretending ever since she had come to live in the Baron’s townhouse. She had just replaced a rare porcelain dove back on one of the small tables when the delicate chime of the clock startled her. If she had been holding the dove, it would be in shards now. She swallowed hard, forcing her throat to work against its will. She knew what she needed, and she needed it now. Her eyes scuttled around the room, finally coming to rest on the liquor cabinet at the far end of the room. All she had to do was walk across the room and remove the stopper on the decanter and take a drink. It was wrong. Her mother hadn’t had to resort to liquor in her pretend world. All she had done was sit in a chair and close her eyes, and everything and everyone ceased to exist. She had tried that, but it didn’t work for her. Carl’s face always swam before her weary eyes. Memories haunted her, of how close they had been, and then, as always, the humiliating scenes she had to remember of the hours she spent in the Baron’s bed. The liquor was the only thing that could blot the hateful face of the Baron from her mind. If she was lucky, and she knew she wasn’t or she wouldn’t be in the predicament she was in now, she could drink herself to death and never have to worry again.
Her hands were trembling so badly she had to clasp them together. She glanced down at her clenched hands, seeing the knuckles stark white against the sky blue gown she wore. She wanted a drink. She needed a drink. She was going to take a drink and then another and one after that, until she finished the bottle. To hell with Carl. To hell with the Baron. To hell with everything. What kind of man was Carl to lie to her as he had? He couldn’t have truly loved her if he permitted his father to lead him around on a leash. Sebastian, next to her father, was the only man fit to live and breathe. The rest were all vile, perverted bastards. Her teeth clenched together, she crossed the room and reached for the sparkling cut glass decanter. Quickly, she removed the stopper, brought the bottle to her mouth, and drank deeply. She swallowed, waiting for the fiery liquid to hit her stomach. She needed that, she told herself, pouring another jolt into her snifter. Once she finished that off, she would cry a while, curse the Baron and sleep, hoping to see Carl in her dreams. When she woke, she would come downstairs and repeat the process all over again.
Her pansy eyes narrowed to slits. Today was supposed to be different ... or was that yesterday, or tomorrow? Sooner or later she’d remember. That she’d remember anything at all struck her as funny, and she flopped down on the sofa, laughing in hysteria. If the Baron could only see her now. Fresh waves of laughter rolled over her. He’d throw an unholy tantrum because she was unable to perform. He should only know that the only way she could perform for him was to half drown herself in brandy.
Tears slipped from her eyes. Why couldn’t she be a little girl again? Have a mother and father to make things all better again? Have friends, friends like Sebastian, whom she had trailed after since she could walk. Beautiful, beautiful Sebastian. If he could see her now, he’d be appalled, but he’d understand. Sebastian always knew what to do when things went wrong; he could fix anything.
That was what she was going to do today. She was supposed to visit Sebastian. Just yesterday she’d been looking out the bedroom window and had seen his carriage drive past the house, so he must be in Manaus.
A fresh roll of laughter erupted. What would Sebastian think if she showed up on his doorstep drunk? Hiccoughs overcame her as she struggled to her feet. No one could ever fool Sebastian. When he got a whiff of her, he’d probably catch fire. The thought delighted her as she tripped around the room, swirling her skirts. “I know—hic—that you must think I’m under the weather—hic—but actually I’m feeling rather well as of late—hic—”
Making her way to the door by willpower alone, she was determined that she’d see Sebastian. Hadn’t she always had a talent to rise to any occasion? And this was an occasion—hic!
Holding onto the door for support, Alicia squinted. Damn, when had it begun raining? She’d need her cloak and, of course, her ruffled parasol. Wouldn’t Sebastian be surprised to see her.
She carefully placed one foot in front of the other as she made her way to the small utility area outside of the sitting room. She struggled with a lemon yellow cape until she had it wrapped around her. She fished around inside the urn for her parasol, coming up with the one with scarlet bows on the handle. A rich gurgle of laughter made her double over when she caught sight of her reflection in the looking glass. If Rosalie Quince’s parrot should light on her shoulder, passersby would be hard pressed to discover where the bird left off and she began.
Alicia blinked. At least the damnable hiccoughs were gone. She repeated her careful progress back into the room. Her bleary gaze fell on the liquor cabinet and the two half-empty bottles. She pondered the problem for a moment. She could pour one into the other, or she could drink it. On the other hand, it was a long walk to Sebastian’s house and it was raining. She might want to stop along the way, and if she did stop, she would be thirsty. The problem was, and she admitted to herself that it was a problem, could she carry the parasol, watch out for puddles, read the street signs, and still carry the two bottles? It wasn’t an insurmountable problem. She finally solved it to her satisfaction by downing the contents of one of the bottles and carrying the other under her cape.
The minute she stepped outside, the torrential rain sluiced through her flimsy parasol, drenching her to the skin. She tossed the parasol onto the road and started off to the right, hoping she was going in the right direction. Merchants stared at her through their shop windows. They shook their heads and looked at one another. A woman in her cups wasn’t something you saw every day of the week or even once a year, for that matter. And a woman in her cups, staggering down the road in a heavy downpour, was even worse.
What seemed like hours later, Alicia climbed the steps to Sebastian’s house. “Sebastian Rivera, let me in your house immediately!” she shouted above the whipping rain. Getting no response to her order, she uncorked the decanter and took a healthy swallow. “Open this damn door, Sebastian,” she shouted again. Another swallow from the bottle, and the hiccoughs were back. “Damn you, Sebastian, you see what you’ve done. You made me get the hiccoughs again. Open this door before someone thinks I’m drunk. Sebastian!”
The door swung open and Sebastian Rivera blinked. “Christ almighty! Alicia? Jesus! Alicia, what the hell has happened?”
“I thought you were never going to open this damn door. Do you have something illicit going on in here? Look, Sebastian, I brought some refreshments with me. It took you long enough to open the door. I thought for sure that some of your neighbors would see me out there and wonder at my—hiccough—my condition. I have ... I have ... these ... hiccoughs ... from walking in the rain, and then—hiccough—you let me stand out there—hiccough—in the rain and now they won’t ... won’t ... go away. Oh, Sebastian, I had nowhere else to go, no one to turn to—hiccough— I had to come ... come here ... I knew you ... knew you would ... you have to help ... please ... Sebastian ... you have to help me ...”
“Alicia, what happened?” His voice was tender, brotherly, as he bent down on one knee. Taking her hand in his, he brought it to his cheek. “I’ll help you, Alicia. Just sit there for a moment and I’ll fetch my housekeeper.” When he returned with a rotund, jolly honey-skinned woman, Alicia was fast asleep, her hands folded under her cheek like a small child. Sebastian scooped her up and was startled to find that she weighed less than a child. How much weight she had lost; she felt al
l bony and thin. Gently, he laid her on the bed and spoke softly to the housekeeper. “Take care of her, and be gentle.”
Sebastian sat in his study, Alicia’s bottle of brandy in his hands. What in the name of all that was holy had made Alicia show up at his door drunk! Something told him that this wasn’t the first time she’d looked for answers to whatever was bothering her at the bottom of a bottle.
When he’d arrived in Manaus, he’d gone around to her apartment over the apothecary shop and learned that she was gone. Knowing that Carl Newsome was in Belém, Sebastian had thought Alicia was with him.
Hour after hour, Sebastian sat, waiting. He’d determined he wasn’t moving until Alicia woke and told him what her problem was. He was beginning to doze off around midnight when his housekeeper tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the upper level. Hurrying out into the hall, he ran into Aloni.
“Sebastian, why do you banish your Aloni to her room? Why is that woman here in this house?”
“Not now, Aloni. I’ve got too much on my mind. Go to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
As he took the carpeted stairs two at a time, he heard Aloni complaining behind him. “You don’t love your Aloni anymore. Why didn’t you take Aloni to the masquerade ...”
Ignoring his mistress, he came to a halt outside Alicia’s door. Cautiously, he opened it a crack to see Alicia weeping into her pillow. It made him feel inadequate to see a woman cry.
Drawing up a gold brocade chair beside the bed, he gently reached for her hand and covered it with both of his. “Alicia. What happened? What’s made you so unhappy? Tell me, let me help you. You’re safe here, if that’s what you’re worried about. No harm will come to you. We’ve been friends since you were a little girl. Come, wipe your tears and we’ll talk.”
What he said was true. That was why she had come to Sebastian. It was no longer important to hide her shame. In the beginning, yes. Now she didn’t care anymore. Sebastian would understand. She groped for the snowy square of linen Sebastian handed her. She dabbed at her eyes and then blew her nose lustily. “I suppose I’m pretty much of a mess,” she said swallowing hard. “Do you think I could have a drink, Sebastian? Not water,” she added hastily.
Sebastian frowned. How could he refuse her anything? But he had to. “No, Alicia, spirits aren’t what you need right now, and I’ve a feeling that that’s how you’ve been trying to solve whatever problem it is that’s plaguing you. You can’t think and act clearly when you’re under the influence. Tell me what’s troubling you and how I can help. I don’t think I need to remind you that any confidence you share with me will stay with me.”
“I know that, Sebastian, and you’re right. Spirits aren’t what I need right now. Now I need a friend.” Staring him straight in the eye, she recounted what happened to her from the day the Baron first visited her. She left nothing out, spared herself no shame. She neither cried nor excused herself in any way. That was what frightened Sebastian.
A rage as black as hell ripped through Sebastian as he heard her out. When she finished with her tale, her eyes pleaded with him for forgiveness. At first she thought he was angry with her, then he stood and curled his fist into a tight ball. Before she knew what was happening, he lashed out at the armoire, splintering the wood. His face showed no pain, just vile disgust. The emotion, she knew, was directed at the Baron, not herself.
“My God, why didn’t you come to me in the beginning? Why did you suffer so? I would have killed the bastard cheerfully and then danced on his grave. Why, Alicia, why did you wait so long?”
“Because I couldn’t bear to see the look on your face. I thought you would believe the rumors that have been circulating that I was a prostitute. Sebas-tion, surely you understand. And then I started to drink, just to drive what was happening to me from my mind. Yesterday, I saw your carriage drive by the house. I wanted to run after you right then and there and tell you to take me away, but I was too drunk to make it to the door. In the beginning you were back on the plantation, and there was no way for me to get there, and above all, I was afraid of the Baron. Please, Sebastian, say you understand and forgive me.”
“Of course, I forgive you, and I do understand. My housekeeper is going to bring you some food shortly. I’m going downstairs to think. This can’t go on. Something has to be done. We’ll talk again in the morning. Good food and sleep are what you need most. In the morning we’ll both have clear heads and know how to deal with this matter, and you have my word, Alicia, we will deal with it, head on if we have to.” Gently, he kissed her on the cheek, and then, tenderly, he brushed back a stray tendril of hair from her forehead. “We’ll speak later.”
“Sebastian,” she said in a frightened voice. “Have you seen Carl? Is he all right? Please, you must tell me, is he going to marry Royall Banner?”
Sebastian stared at her for a moment. “I don’t know, Alicia, but I promise you I’ll find out. The last time I saw him, he appeared ... distraught. You know, I have never concerned myself with Newsome affairs unless they affected me in some way. You’re not to worry. He isn’t married yet. We both know that you’re the girl he’s always loved. Even when we were children, we all knew.”
“Not any longer, Sebastian,” Alicia whispered. “It’s too late now, for everything.” Her voice was flat, dead, sending a shiver of dread through him.
“Don’t talk like that, Alicia. It’s never too late.”
“Yes, yes, it is! Don’t you see! I’m not good enough for Carl if I ever was. Not any longer ... not after what I’ve done ... no ...” Emotionlessly, seeming to have drained herself of tears, Alicia gave him a level look that cried hopelessness.
“Alicia, you did what you thought you had to do. I’ll kill Carlyle for it, I swear.”
“No, don’t, Sebastian. Don’t ever, promise me! Promise me!” Her fingers clutched him, tearing at cloth and flesh, demanding, needing to hear him promise.
“I don’t want you wasting your life for me, Sebastian. I’m not worth it. I’m not worth anything anymore.” The expression in her eyes, more than her words, made him frightened for her. If he didn’t do something and do it soon, Alicia would die, by her own hand.
“Alicia, little darling, don’t torture yourself.”
“Go away, Sebastian! Go away! I can’t bear to have you look at me! Please, please go away.” She buried her face in the pillow, staring blankly at the far wall, a part of her already dead.
Without another word Sebastian closed the door and headed for his study. He had lied to Alicia. Sometimes there was nothing to do but take a drink and hope it would make the world right side up. The Baron himself had been circulating the news that when Carl returned from Belém an engagement was to be announced. And as he said it, he had allowed his gaze to find Royall.
One drink led to two and two to three. Three raced into four, five, and six, when dawn broke. He felt sober. Sober enough to want to kill the bastard named Carlyle Newsome. He knew that the only reason he had consumed so much liquor was because he needed the courage to do what he was going to do as soon as it was full daylight. There were some things a man could do and some he couldn’t do without the crutch of alcohol to get him through the tight moments. He told himself that Alicia was the only person in the whole world who could make him go to Royall Banner for help. But he would make it perfectly clear from the beginning that he was only seeking her help for his friend. There was no way he would ever approach her on his own behalf for any matter. But for Alicia he would subject himself to anything, as long as it would help her. He wondered fleetingly if he looked drunk.
He blinked when he stood up. There didn’t seem to be any feeling in his legs, at least none that he could feel. He stomped his feet several times until he felt the tingle start in his toes and work its way up his legs. He was alive. Now, if he could just ride a horse, his problems were solved. The Quince’s townhouse had been one of the first built on the outskirts of town. If he rode in from the back, he would go unnoticed. He would s
imply go around to the kitchen area and have one of the servants fetch Royall. It sounded too simple. He must be drunk, he thought as he mounted the russet gelding he kept at the stable behind his townhouse. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on the Baron or he would forget his intentions to bide his time. This was no time to kill anyone. That would come later, at the proper time. If only his head would stop its infernal pounding, maybe he could think clearly.
By the time the gelding picked his way around to the back of the townhouse, Sebastian’s face wore a look of pain. All he could say for Royall Banner with two L’s was that she better not give him a problem, for if she did, he would be forced to abduct her in broad daylight. Alicia needed a woman to talk to, and he had decided that Royall was the one to do the listening. Royall was the only woman he knew who had come to terms with her own sexuality, and she was worldly, mundane, able to pick up the pieces and go on with her life!
The cook walked out to the courtyard to watch the lone rider. Her round, chocolate eyes widened when she noticed his identity. She waited for him to speak and then just nodded.
Royall was just tying the sash of her dressing gown when the cook entered her room. Motioning with her hand for Royall to follow her, she led her to the wrought iron balcony that overlooked the courtyard. Perplexed, Royall stared about and then let her eyes drop to the courtyard. Sebastian! What was he doing here? Something was wrong! The cook pulled her by the arm to show that she was to follow her down the stairs and out to the courtyard. When the old woman placed a cautious finger to her lips, Royall understood. No one was to know Sebastian was here. What could he want with her at this time of the morning?
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