Alyssa's Autumn Affair

by Tabetha Waite

  However, when she’d asked about doing a bit of the same here, her cousin had winced. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, cousin. Caroline had the conservatory remodeled some years ago and turned it into a summer sitting room.”

  As if the estate didn’t boast enough parlors and receiving areas to suit the baroness, Alyssa had thought uncharitably.

  But then, from the moment her aunt had died and Alyssa had been forced to turn to them for assistance, the mistress of the house hadn’t looked upon her favorably. Alyssa didn’t know what she’d done to deserve the woman’s ire, other than the fact she didn’t like having another woman in the house to vie for her husband’s attentions. However, she didn’t have to worry on that score, for Alyssa had spoken only a handful of words to James since she had arrived.

  “What are your plans for tomorrow, cousin?”

  Alyssa glanced up at the baron. While he smiled, it was stiff at best, and she knew that his query wasn’t truly sincere, but rather something polite to say to break up the silence. She also couldn’t help but note the gaze he slid to his wife who didn’t even bother to spare a glance at Alyssa, but drawled, “Oh, I imagine she’ll do more wandering about the grounds. Really, James, I am growing quite concerned for her welfare.”

  Alyssa glanced between them, speaking as if she wasn’t even there. Her grip tightened around her spoon, and she said, “I recently suffered a terrible loss. Surely I’m allowed a period of grief.”

  Caroline finally turned her blond head, her blue eyes almost hostile as they lit on Alyssa. “Of course. But you mustn’t let it drag on indefinitely.”

  Alyssa pursed her lips, prepared to give the woman a proper set down, but James patted his wife’s hand, his green eyes empathetic and his brown, receding hairline looking even more pronounced in profile when he said, “There, there. You really shouldn’t upset yourself. Alyssa knows what needs to be done.” He lowered his voice and added, “She is nearly five and twenty, after all.”

  With that, she’d had enough. Alyssa set aside her spoon and rose to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a headache. I think I’ll retire early this evening.”

  Her cousin murmured something noncommittal, but either way, Alyssa wasn’t about to remain to hear what he’d said. Her anger was too raw to stay and not say something she shouldn’t.

  She walked in her bedchamber and closed the door behind her. She leaned against the wood for a time and gazed at her surroundings. It was a rather plain room with white walls and hardly any adornments to speak of, only the barest essentials — a washstand, wardrobe, and dressing table. There was a privacy screen in one corner with a chamber pot and copper tub, and a small desk had been shoved into another corner.

  Upon her arrival nearly two weeks ago, she’d been shocked when the maid had led her here. It was the smallest room at the estate without being part of the servant’s quarters, giving further credence to the fact her presence was not appreciated, nor welcome.

  She walked over to her window and looked outside. A bird flew through the air, catching the wind and soaring on its wings. She pressed a hand to the glass, wishing in that moment that she might be so free. Tears clogged her throat, but she refused to let them fall. Aunt Pearl’s loss had made her cry enough tears in the past days that they would fill a river, but she wouldn’t give her cousin and his nasty wife the power to do the same.

  So she turned her focus in a different direction.

  Travell.

  Had he truly come home? Might it be acceptable for her to call on him? Briefly, of course. They had once been friends, after all, and asking after Triana would be the perfect excuse to see a friendly face. Not that she didn’t care about her friend’s welfare, but she knew Triana was perfectly happy with her new husband. The glow of joy on her face the last time she’d seen her had been evidence enough of that.

  That settled it.

  Tomorrow she would head to Rosewood.

  ***

  Gathering her shawl around her shoulders, Alyssa stood at the top of the hill where she’d paused the day before when Travell’s carriage had arrived. While the air was a bit colder today, the clouds threatening rain, she had awakened determined to see her plans come to fruition. While she should have asked her maid to accompany her, for Travell was a bachelor and she didn’t see that Lady Trenton had traveled with him, Alyssa wanted to make this first visit on her own.

  In truth, she wasn’t even sure if she would be received or not, and she wanted that embarrassment to be her own.

  With a deep breath, she headed down the grassy decline and decided it was now or never.

  Her boots crunched on the gravel drive and before she knew it, she was walking up the stone steps. She drew a deep breath, raised her hand, and knocked on the front door. It didn’t take long before the butler answered. While it wasn’t the same one she remembered from her visits in her youth, she attempted her best smile. “My name is Lady Alyssa Breyton. I’m here to inquire after the viscount.” The servant glanced behind her, and she knew what he was thinking. “I walked here.” As his brows rose, she added, “I’m staying with my cousin. His estate borders this one.”

  “Indeed.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t believe that Lord Curdiff is receiving at this time. If you wish to leave your card—”

  “What is it, Ives?”

  Alyssa’s pulse skittered as the disappointment of being turned away quickly turned to anticipation at the rumble of Travell’s deep voice.

  Before the butler had a chance to reply, Travell strode into view. His steps instantly came to a halt when he spied Alyssa. “It is you,” he murmured. She didn’t have time to interpret such a cryptic remark before he shook his head and said, “All is well, Ives. I’ll speak with the lady in the front parlor. Have some tea brought in, if you would.”

  A silent message seemed to pass between the two. “My lord, are you sure—”

  “Yes,” Travell snapped.

  The door instantly opened wider, and Alyssa walked inside. As she glanced around the interior, a faint smile touched her lips, for while her father’s estate had changed dramatically after her cousin’s wife had redecorated it to her liking, Rosewood was just as she remembered it. There were still the same portraits on the walls and the gleaming oak staircase that smelled of fresh beeswax. It was like greeting an old friend, and for the first time since her aunt had passed, the weight of her loss eased slightly.

  “Lady Alyssa?”

  She turned to find Travell waiting for her, so she hastily moved forward to join him. After they had sat down, taking places across from one another, Alyssa found that words abruptly deserted her. Thankfully, Travell began the conversation. “Allow me to extend my condolences on Lady Alwan’s passing.”

  “Thank you, Lord Curdiff. Aunt Pearl was very dear to me. I daresay I miss her greatly.”

  “I assume you have returned to Breyton Hall, then?”

  “I have,” she concurred, finding it almost too difficult to speak. “I’m staying with my cousin, James — Baron Lockley — and his wife Caroline.” She cleared her throat and pushed forward. “I’m sure they would love to meet you if you have time to make a call.”

  A furrow appeared between his dark brows. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to.” Her face must have shown her disappointment, for he added politely, “I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be in residence.” A hesitant smile lifted his lips. “My mother remains in London.”

  “Of course.” She clasped her hands in her lap as a maid brought in the teacart.

  “Thank you, Eunice. I’ll serve our guest.”

  The servant blinked in surprise, but she merely curtsied and left the room.

  Alyssa started to rise. “I’m be more than happy to—”

  He waved her back down. “I know it’s not the ‘thing’ in London for a gentleman to do more than attend his club or close himself in his study, but this is my home, so I make the rules here.” As she sank back down on the settee, he lifted a brow and a
sked, “You used to take it with sugar and no cream. Is that still the same?”

  She was touched that he remembered such a trivial detail. “It is.”

  He handed her the cup and saucer, and she noted that he was careful to make sure their fingers didn’t accidentally brush. Through her grief, she had to mourn that slight denial of human interaction, for she couldn’t help but wonder if his touch still ignited her blood like it had that one blissful night so long ago…

  “Have you heard from Triana of late?” Mentioning his sister ought to keep her thoughts where they belonged — firmly in the present.

  “Not for a fortnight, at least,” he returned. “I imagine she’s too busy dragging Gabriel around to all the sights in Italy to do much writing.”

  Or keeping occupied in other ways, Alyssa’s traitorous mind suggested. If she were married to Travell, she would make sure they didn’t leave their bedchamber for long periods of time, for she would, no doubt, be eager to return.

  Stop it! Her conscience hissed. It had only been a kiss shared in the midst of a hedge maze the night of her debut ball. It wasn’t as if he’d stolen her virtue.

  And yet…

  In the intervening years, she’d found it difficult to ignore the memory of his tantalizing lips upon hers. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t had ample opportunity to move on. She’d had a couple embraces with eager suitors since that fateful night, but nothing had compared to Travell and her first kiss. It had been something magical, something… spectacular, like the fireworks at Vauxhall that lit up the night sky. Combined with those ocean blue eyes and that thick brown hair that consistently tempted her to run her fingers through it, he’d been a difficult man to forget.

  But since that moment of intense impulsiveness, whenever they encountered one another, which was often since she was good friends with his sister, he had treated her with a kind respect, an almost brotherly affection, as if nothing had happened between them at all.

  Alyssa stirred her tea and found that instead of this visit lifting her spirits like she’d hoped, they had effectively plummeted even lower.

  ***

  Travell hated to see Alyssa looking so forlorn. She’d been a true confidante to Triana over the years, but he’d known long before then that she had a kind heart. For a woman who wasn’t yet five and twenty, she’d suffered more than her share of loss. First it was her parents when she was but a child, and now the death of her aunt, which had tossed her back into unfamiliar waters.

  He noted her gaunt features, and that her green eyes had lost that teasing mien that he’d come to associate with her personality. Even her brown hair had seemed to lose a bit of luster. It was obvious that she needed a friendly face, and he wished with everything that he had that Triana were here to comfort her. In her absence, he knew it fell to him to become the hero she needed, but with his own personal demon to contend with upstairs, he didn’t have the time, or the energy, to expend on anything else even if he wanted to.

  For years he’d fought against his attraction to Alyssa, as his work for the Home Office was too dangerous to bring a wife into the mix, not to mention that he had little time for much else. But now, as he looked at her in her black crepe, he had never felt like such an ass because he knew that he had no choice but to send her on her way.

  However, she made the first move by setting aside her teacup. “I should be going.” She stood, and he followed suit. “Thank you for seeing me, Lord Curdiff. I enjoyed our chat.”

  So did I. More than you’ll know. “I’m glad you dropped by, Lady Alyssa.”

  She inclined her head and had nearly made it to the door when chaos descended.

  A harried footman came running down the stairs, but he skidded to a halt upon seeing a lady in the foyer. “My lord.” He swallowed visibly. “You’re… needed upstairs.”

  Travell withheld a curse as a loud crash came from the second floor. Alyssa’s eyes widened, so he turned to her apologetically. “Good day. I’m sorry I can’t personally show you out.” With that, he turned on his heel and raced up the stairs.

  He walked in his father’s bedchamber where two more footmen were doing their best to get his father to eat, but as it had been all night when the earl was struck with one of his fits, there was no reasoning with him. He was twisting and turning his head, thrashing his legs, and growling the most terrible obscenities.

  While Travell could tell that his father had lost weight during his travels to God only knows where, he was still a strong man, even when bound. But if they didn’t get some sort of food down him, he would waste away that much quicker. And at this point, an asylum wasn’t an option, for Travell knew how those horror hospitals operated. He wasn’t yet ready to subject his father to that sort of torture. It was bad enough that they had no choice but to pour laudanum down his throat just so he could get some rest.

  He strode forward and tried to speak to his father, praying that he could reach his rational side, if only for a moment. “Father. It’s Travell. You must take some soup.”

  “No!” The earl wailed. “It’s poison! They’re trying to kill me!”

  Travell sighed heavily. “It’s not poison. It was prepared by Cook, who has been employed at Rosewood for nearly ten years—”

  Lord Trenton’s eyes widened, almost crazed. “I know what I saw!” he nearly shouted. “She—” Abruptly, he stopped, his gaze riveted to something — or someone — in the doorway.

  Travell turned his head and saw Alyssa standing there hesitantly. He withheld his own curse, for this was not anything he would have wished for her, or anyone else, to see — his father struck in the depths of madness while he was powerless to do anything about it.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” Travell snapped. He was about to instruct one of the footmen to escort her out, wondering why Ives had allowed her to elude him in the first place. But then, a miracle happened.

  “Triana?”

  His father had quieted as he looked at Alyssa, for some reason believing her to be his daughter. Travell would have laughed if he hadn’t been so surprised, for other than similar dark hair, the two women looked nothing alike.

  Alyssa glanced at him, and dared to walk farther into the room. “Yes, Papa. It’s me,” she said softly.

  The tension immediately fell from the earl’s face, and he sighed in relief. “Come give your father a kiss, my darling girl.”

  Travell and the two footmen moved away as she approached the bed and kissed him lightly on the forehead. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Why did you stay away so long?” he almost whined.

  “I didn’t mean to,” she returned gently. “I was in London with Mama.”

  He snorted at that. “Your mother detests the very sight of me.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” she continued in that soothing voice. “But she might be upset if you don’t eat something. You must keep up your strength if you are to get better.”

  He tried to sit up, but the restraints held him back. “I just don’t understand why these miscreants have tied me up!”

  “It’s for your protection. You had a rash that was causing you to itch. We feared that you were going to cut the skin and cause it to bleed.”

  He seemed to consider this, so while he was thinking, Alyssa picked up the bowl and spoon that had been set on a nearby table. She scooped up some of the soup and held it out toward him. He looked at her warily. “Please, Papa,” she cajoled.

  He obediently opened his mouth.

  Chapter Three

  Alyssa set aside the empty bowl and got her feet as the earl began to nod off to sleep, now that his stomach was sated. She turned to find that the footmen had departed, but Travell was still there, staring at her curiously, as if he’d never even seen her before.

  She could feel her cheeks begin to heat self-consciously. But then, she had never felt discomfited around anyone but Travell.

  “How did you do that?” he asked, a touch of bewilderment in his tone.

&nbs
p; She pointed to the bedroom door, so he followed her out into the hall. Once he’d closed the door behind them, she said, “I’m not sure if you remember much about Aunt Pearl, but she was known to be rather… eccentric. However, her physician in London proclaimed that it was merely a slight form of madness due to her age. She would have certain episodes of lucidity, followed by wild outbursts. He called it dementia.”

  “I’m not sure that’s what’s going on here,” Travell murmured. “My father is only in his late fifties. Not so aged, I would think.”

  She shrugged. “I understand it can strike at different times. You don’t have to be eighty to find that things don’t make sense anymore. I’m only four and twenty, and I feel that many aspects of life can be rather confusing.”

  “Indeed. I can’t argue with that.” Travell rubbed the back of his neck and fell silent, so Alyssa thought it would be a good time to take her leave.

  “I’m sorry if I intruded. I only wanted to help. I could hear the screams—” She broke off, not wanting to upset him further by bringing it all back.

  She started to go, but he grasped her hand and she stopped. She turned her head, looking into those penetrating blue eyes and it was obvious he was sincere when he said, “I’m glad you did, Lady Alyssa. Thank you.” He stepped back and she immediately missed the warmth of his touch. “Is it possible to give me the name of your aunt’s physician? I should probably consult with someone in the medical field, rather than try to deal with this all on my own, as I imagined I could when I arrived.” His jaw clenched. “I didn’t want to tell Mother or Triana just yet, and I’m certainly not ready for his… condition to spread about the papers.”