“What is this?” a voice intruded, and behind her, Lissa heard a pitiful gasp of disbelief. The moment shattered like a crystal ball. She broke from Ivan’s embrace and stood face to face with all the troubles that had dogged her these many years: The Scandal, her reputation, Ivan. Albert stood in the kitchen doorway with Evvie and George beside him. It was obvious they had seen them kissing—all but Evvie, that was, and by the look on Evvie’s face, she hadn’t had to see them kissing; she knew anyway.
Lissa’s fingers went to her traitorous lips. They still burned from Ivan’s kiss and she knew they had to be red and slightly swollen. A sob caught in her throat and she tried to look away, but Ivan wouldn’t let her. His arm went possessively around her waist and he forcibly turned her to face the door.
“What brings you out here, Rooney?” Ivan asked as he held her fast. She tensed and tried to move from the circle of his arms, but without fighting like a vixen, she knew he wouldn’t let her go. She would have sold her soul to have been able to turn on him at that moment, for she knew without a doubt this entire episode was his doing, but she’d already shamed her family with one scene. There was no need for two.
“Lissa, you sent for me,” Albert replied bitterly. He then reached inside his overcoat and threw a piece of vellum onto the kitchen table.
“I didn’t send for you. I wouldn’t . . .” she answered, her voice quivering. She didn’t need to read the note on the table. She knew what it said. It summoned Albert to Violet Croft and was undoubtedly signed with her name. It could not have been written in her hand, yet Albert had no way of knowing that. So he had come, only to find her in a compromising embrace with Nodding Knoll’s most notorious citizen.
She looked at Ivan, her eyes blazing with anger and grief. He had tricked her. The motivation for his kiss had not been desire or affection, rather it had been a heartless attempt to humiliate her. He hated her that much—enough to destroy her last chance to save her family, enough to see her crushed by the fist of debtor’s prison. Suddenly the vision of her rotting in a putrid-smelling cell passed before her eyes. Would he laugh to see her so denigrated? Or would he merely look upon her with pity in his eyes, returning the look that so many had bestowed upon him as he grew up Powerscourt’s unwanted bastard?
His treachery threatened to consume her. But instead of succumbing to it, she hardened, as she had hardened when her parents died. Her face turned into a perfect porcelain mask—beautiful and doll-like to the eyes, cold and unyielding to the touch. Then she turned to Ivan.
“Does this please you, my lord?” she asked him icily. “Or were you hoping there would be a larger audience than just Albert? Perhaps you would see me ruined before the whole of Nodding Knoll?”
“Rooney shall speak of this to no one, Lissa,” he answered gently.
She wanted to slap his face. “Oh, but how can he not speak of it? He has every right.”
Ivan turned to Albert. A smug smile crossed his lips. “Rooney, as a gentleman, you have no need to mention what went on here. I needn’t ask you to—”
Albert shook with rage. Suddenly he couldn’t contain his anger any more. “I shall speak of it! I shall! You both deserve punishment for this infamy and, besides, Mother will ask why I am not courting Miss Alcester, and I could never lie to Mother!” Albert crossed his arms in front of his chest.
“That will only start rumors,” Ivan told him, annoyance tightening his features.
“Then so be it. You both should have thought of that before—”
Ivan cut him off. “Rumors can be viciously untrue, my man.” He looked thoughtfully at his nails before continuing. “For example, what if someone should start the rumor that you’ve taken to visiting, say . . . old man Norton?”
Lissa gasped. It was unthinkable what Ivan was threatening. Old Mr. Norton lived on the other side of town in a small cottage, and every once in a while a rumor would pass through the village that he’d been caught again wearing corsets and gowns and dipping into the rouge pot. Everyone knew about old Mr. Norton, yet no one spoke of him openly. It was too . . . indelicate. She cringed and looked at Albert. He was cringing too.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he said to Ivan. “It would be a gross lie.”
“Yes, it would be,” Ivan admitted. “However, take heart, old chap, only one in three would believe it.”
“GoodGod !” Albert nearly swooned at the thought.
Ivan walked to the kitchen door and held it for him. Albert gave no pause. As if running from a den of thieves, he clutched his top hat in his hands and took off.
Ivan shut the door. Silence fell in the kitchen. Lissa looked around her, first at Evvie, who seemed pained indeed, then at George, who seemed hopelessly confused. Finally her eyes turned to Ivan. Glaring at him, she picked up the note from the table and held it to her breast.
“He was not for you, either, Lissa.” Ivan reached for the note. She backed away.
“Oh, but he was. I suppose you shall see to it that I never have another suitor?”
He remained silent, his eyes dark and distrustful.
“Answer me,” she demanded in a harsh whisper.
“You’ll never find the right man, so why search for him?” he said finally.
“Perhaps you’re right. So I shall do without any suitors. I shall do without a single one, yet I shall do all right anyway, just to spite you.”
He ignored the sharpness of her words. Instead, he tried to soothe her by saying “Give me the note, Lissa. I shall burn it.” He held out his hand.
“Never!” She backed farther away.
“Why not? What do you want it for?” he demanded.
“Evidence.”
“And what do you plan to do with it? Throw me in jail for forgery?” He chuckled. “Give it over.”
“Never!” she repeated. “I plan on keeping it by my bedstead. I shall look at it every night.” Her voice grew husky with hurt and despair. “And I will pray that all the misfortune of this family be bestowed upon your head.”
“Lissa!” Evvie gasped at her sister’s vengefulness.
“You foolish girl, I saved you from a living hell with that witless fop, and yet here you are spouting curses at me.” Ivan scowled and reached for the note once more. But stepping back, she would not give it up.
“You’re just doing this because Father would have approved ofAlbert ,” she reminded him brutally.
“Then damn his eyes, Lissa. Damn his eyes.”
Ivan looked at her, his expression as hard as granite. Without reverence for the dead, Ivan cursed again. Lissa watched as he assumed a stance of rock-hard rebellion, rebellion bred by the whip. He dared her to react, to rebel also, but there was no point in fighting now. She’d lose. Shooting him one last glance of pure hatred, she ran up the stairs, feeling utterly disgraced.
CHAPTER NINE
That evening was a dark one indeed. Lissa spent the entire time in her bedroom, weeping softly into her pillow. She indulged herself in crying only because she knew nothing could be done about her family’s situation that night, and also because she knew tomorrow she would have to begin to fight back.
Oh, and she would, she promised herself, wiping her tearstained cheeks. Ivan had not bested her. She would wake tomorrow and find some way to keep the Alcester family going, even if it meant becoming a scullery wench.
Staring off into a corner, she didn’t hear the door to her bedroom open. She barely heard Evvie’s quiet footsteps as she walked to the bed. Lissa did recognize the touch, however, for her sister’s touch was always warm and knowing.
“I brought you some hot milk and honey. It will help you sleep.” Evvie skillfully placed the glass on the nightstand.
“We’ll make it. I swear I shan’t let you down.” Lissa wiped one last tear from her eyes.
“Of course we shall.” Evvie lay next to her and put her arms around Lissa’s shoulders. “Albert wasn’t right for you, anyway. Ivan was correct on that point.”
“He wanted to ru
in me. And now he has done so.”
“He hasn’t done so. Ivan made sure Albert won’t speak a word. You heard him.”
“Yes, I heard him. He wants to be the one to spread the news himself. He hates me so!” Soon she was shaking anew from her sobs. Her pain seemed to find no balm. In one short afternoon, Ivan had repaid in duplicate the pain she might have caused him years ago.
“Lissa, he cares for you. I know he does,” Evvie whispered, stroking her hair.
“Please, Evvie, you misjudge him. He’s a black-souled villain, and he proved that this afternoon.”
“What he did was appalling, that’s true. But he wants you, Lissa. He didn’t want you to go to another.”
“Good God, Evvie.” Lissa sat up and looked at her sister. “He’s not the stableboy any longer. Do you think he cannot find the words or the courage to ask me to marry him?”
“Old wounds go deep, sister.”
“Yes,” Lissa agreed with a sob, “and that’s why he’s doing what he’s doing. Revenge.”
“Revenge was not on his mind when he kissed you. And I know he kissed you, for George confirmed to me he did.”
“He wants me, all right. I know that. But if you think that his wanting me will result in a marriage proposal, Evvie, you’re sadly mistaken. He’s already had the opportunity to propose, and I tell you, he proposed something quite different from marriage.”
Evvie grew grim. “You mean he wanted you to . . . ?”
“Be his mistress.” Lissa covered her face with her hands and cried hysterically, “And must I? Can we get along without him?” The thought of all the unpaid bills that already cluttered the parlor mantel upset her further. Would going to debtor’s prison be better or worse than sneaking up to Powerscourt to appease her keeper? Infinitely better, she finally confirmed, for there at least, even in some dark cell, she would be able to hold onto a little of her pride. If she sacrificed herself to Ivan, she would have none at all.
“We shall never speak to him again,” Evvie vowed, obviously shocked by her disclosure.
“No, and I daresay even if we wanted to we shall never get the opportunity. He’s through with us. No one shall marry me after what happened this afternoon gets bandied about in the pubs.”
“We shall tell them he forced himself upon you!”
Suddenly Lissa quieted. Huge, silent tears slipped from her blue eyes. She fell back onto the bed and clutched her pillow. She couldn’t even look at her sister.
“He didn’t force me, Evvie.”
Lissa thought of Ivan’s kiss and of all the emotion that had roiled inside of her during it. She had wanted him, and she couldn’t deny it. She had wanted the kiss to go on and on, and she had wanted to press herself so closely into Ivan’s embrace that they would join completely and forever. There was a need in her that had lain dormant for five years, waiting for just that kind of blossoming. Now that she’d experienced it, the thought of never having it again caused her unspeakable anguish. Yet the thought of continuing led her to the blackest of thoughts.
“I’m just like Mother, Evvie.” She began to sob and even her sister’s fierce hugs couldn’t comfort her.
The next day Lissa went to seek employment. Dressed in wool serge gowns, bonnets, and shawls, she and Evvie set out for the Mercantile. There Evvie occupied Mrs. Bishop’s attention by asking her to help her choose a new pair of gloves while Lissa covertly looked at the announcements board beneath the words “Positions Available.”
The Gilworths needed a chimney sweep and the Miltons were looking for a gardener, neither of which suited her. She looked further and found that the Ericksons were seeking a governess and old Widow Tannahill desired a ladies’ companion. Both of those positions seemed more appropriate, but Lissa’s beautiful eyes clouded. Old Widow Tannahill would no doubt have her thrown from her parlor for even thinking herself suitable as a companion. And the Ericksons? The young couple’s estate had neighbored Alcester House. In fact, Kenneth Erickson had been the one to make funeral arrangements for her parents. But Lissa had seen them so infrequently since then, she wasn’t sure how they would react to her applying for the position of governess. They had been pleasant when they’d seen her, but wouldn’t remembrances of The Scandal ultimately color their decision? After all, they were seeking a governess, someone who would have some impression upon their children . . .
Her worried gaze suddenly lit upon another notice. It stated:
Parlormaid desired at Powerscourt. Pay generous, duties genteel. Apply with Mrs. Lofts at the servants’ entrance.
Lissa bit her lower lip. How positively unfortunate that Powerscourt should be seeking help. Ironically it was the only place in Nodding Knoll that would hire her, regardless of her past. But there was no way she would go there. At once the Ericksons’ position seemed a less remote possibility. She’d at least have to try there first before even considering working at Powerscourt.
She wandered back to her sister and grabbed her hand. “Find anything that suits, dear?”
Evvie gave a start. “Well . . . actually no . . .” She turned her head in Lissa’s direction and a worried look passed over her features.
Lissa turned her gaze to the shopkeeper. “Would you excuse us, Mrs. Bishop? I want to have a word with Evvie; she hasn’t been feeling well today.”
“Oh, certainly, loves, you both have a chat and I’ll be in the back feeding old Tom.” Mrs. Bishop picked up her large gray tom and breezed to her rooms in the back of the shop.
“What did you find?” Evvie whispered when Mrs. Bishop’s footsteps had faded away.
“Nothing much, but the Ericksons are looking for a governess. I shall go there at once. Shall I return you to the cottage, or would you like to stay here and keep Mrs. Bishop company for an hour or so?”
“I think I should like to stay here. I know I’ll just be pacing in the cottage waiting for you to return. Oh, Lissa, I can’t believe it has come to this. What if the Ericksons won’t—”
“Never mind that! Don’t think of it!” Lissa squeezed her hand in farewell. “I shall be back soon!”
It took less than fifteen minutes to reach the Erickson estate, but to Lissa it seemed the walk took hours. Every step was painful. The position as governess would be perfect, but there were so many things that could go wrong. It was ever so much more difficult considering that she already knew the Ericksons. It would put them in a most awkward situation, even more so if they had to refuse. Her cheeks burned with humiliation just thinking about the possibility of rejection. But she had to go forth. George and Evvie needed her, and if this was the only way, she would do it.
“Lissa! Lissa!” A voice rang out behind her. Lissa turned and watched a carriage pull up alongside her. A well-coiffed, russet-colored head popped out the window and Arabella Parks greeted her with a wave.
“Lissa! How glad I am to see you! I’ve been so bad about not visiting! And now here you are!”
“Hello, Arabella,” Lissa answered, all the while fervently wishing the girl would just disappear. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Arabella Parks; on the contrary, Arabella was probably her best friend. She certainly had been while Lissa was growing up at Alcester House, and even now Arabella still called on her. But since The Scandal there always seemed to be the implication that the young lady was performing some charitable duty doing such. A couple of times Lissa half expected her to come calling with bread and medicine, as if the rich Miss Parks were visiting the most broken and destitute of paupers. When Arabella left, Lissa always felt like an ungrateful chit for being so annoyed by her visit, but seeing her now was like having salt thrown into her wounds. She was feeling particularly discouraged, and she wondered blackly if it wouldn’t be too soon before the Alcesters would need bread and medicine.
“Lissa, whatever are you doing out here on the road? Do come into the carriage and I’ll take you wherever you are going.” Arabella assumed her most piteous look and quickly opened the door for her.
Lissa coul
d only stand on the road. What was she to do? Tell Arabella she wanted to be dropped off at the Ericksons because she hoped to find employment there? Or remain where she was and refuse the ride, making Arabella feel only that much more sorry for her?
“Come along, dear. The wind is cold.” Arabella shivered and tucked the mink carriage blanket even more tightly around her lap.
“I . . . ah . . .” Lissa stumbled on her words.
Noting her hesitation, Arabella smiled sympathetically. “Please don’t worry, Lissa. I don’t care if anyone sees us together. In fact, you must know, many have said it is quite admirable that you and I have remained chums. So you see now? You needn’t be so anxious.”
Lissa was caught between wanting to strangle the girl and wanting to thank her. “How good of them,” she finally sputtered, choking back her gall.
“Now please get in. The chill is absolutely brutal and I shouldn’t like to stand here bickering with you all afternoon. So where were you off to?”
Resigned, Lissa ascended the carriage. There was no way she could ask Arabella to drop her at the Ericksons. It would be the final humiliation. Besides, her plan to become a governess seemed ridiculous now. No family in Nodding Knoll would want a woman with her past supervising their children. Lissa almost couldn’t blame them. The Scandal was bigger than Nodding Knoll itself, and while the Alcesters were still there, they would never get away from it.
“Would you mind taking me to Bishop’s? I left Evvie there.” She settled herself in the carriage. Arabella gave her a strange look, for it was obvious she had been headed in the opposite direction. Nonetheless, Arabella knocked on the panel behind her and shouted instructions to her driver. In moments they were on their way.
Lissa was soon back at Bishop’s Mercantile, where she thanked Arabella graciously for the ride. When she entered the store she expected to find Evvie waiting for her, and she was perplexed indeed when her sister was nowhere to be seen. Her curiosity escalated when she heard Evvie giggle from behind the huge damask curtains that partitioned the Bishops’ living quarters from the shop. Knowing she was welcome, Lissa pulled aside the curtains and went to retrieve her sister.
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