Timeless Deception

by Susanne Marie Knight

  Alicia neared the edge of the picturesque village. The only object in sight was a small church standing by itself, nestled among huge snow-encrusted conifers.

  As his wife entered the building, Richard knitted his brow. “What the devil! What vagary can she be up to now?” he expostulated under his breath.

  Striding inside, he walked past silent pews. No life stirred within the church's somber walls. Devil take it, the place was empty!

  He found a back door and quickly exited in time to see the vicar guiding Alicia to a point a few yards from the church. There, bounded by a white picket fence, was a cemetery.

  It did not require much of an imagination to deduce whose location was now underground.

  When he reached his wife's side at a large, recent grave, she fell down on her knees next to the modest headstone. Her glazed eyes gave no recognition of his presence. Indeed, her face rivaled the very snow in whiteness.

  Alarmed, he reached out for her, but she bent forward, touching the marble tablet's inscribed words. She then exclaimed, “Oh, dear God! This can't be. Now I'll never get home!”

  Then Alicia did another unusual thing. She promptly fainted.

  ~*~

  Alaina awakened to the rhythmic thudding of horses’ hooves. Disoriented, she sat up and looked around to find herself the object of Richard's censorious gaze.

  “What happened?” As soon as she asked the question, she remembered. The sight of Madame Reena's name on a tombstone was a sight she'd never forget.

  “You swooned, Madam.” He removed his gloves and slapped them against his open palm. “I took the liberty of lifting you off the grave and depositing you in my carriage."

  “Oh, goodness.” He carried her. He actually carried her. Alaina pictured his muscular arms lifting her around her shoulders and legs. Her head would've limply relaxed against his massive chest in an intimate gesture, yet all the while she was unconscious. A fierce and poignant yearning pulsed within her veins, and she closed her eyes to dream about what could never happen.

  Wait a minute. She was forgetting something. Something very important. With Madame Reena gone, she was trapped here. Trapped here forever!

  From his seat across from her in the carriage, Richard leaned over and cradled her hand in his. “Are you feeling better?"

  She smiled wanly. He had every right to be concerned. She probably looked like an anemic ghost. Allowing her hand to rest in his, she explained, “It was just a shock, that's all. I didn't ... expect to find Reena dead."

  Alaina glanced at him. His lips tightened and a pulse at his neck visibly throbbed. “I also didn't expect for you to follow me,” she confessed.

  “My injunction requiring that you remain at the Hall is still in effect.” He released her hand and folded his arms across his wide chest, implicitly passing judgment. “You cannot be trusted, Madam. I have grown tired of your lies. Extremely tired."

  His eyes flashed fire. “You took flight the very day after my family's departure, to procure ... what, devilish love potions? I shall instruct my servants that if you—once again—leave the immediate confines of the Hall, they are to restrain you utilizing any method they deem fit.”

  He made those words sound like a threat.

  “But, Richard, you don't understand.” How could he understand? She suddenly had an intense desire to tell him everything. “Listen, I'm not your—"

  “Enough!” Curling his lip, he turned from her to stare out the carriage window. “I will not have my ears sullied with more of your lies. We will pass the remainder of this journey back to the Hall in silence."

  And that was that. Obstinate man that he was, he had washed his hands of her. No matter what she said, there was no way he would listen.

  Alaina rubbed her temples. feeling the traveling headache she had talked about with Lucy only last month. Now it was real and in full glory. And why shouldn't her head hammer out in distress? Not only did the horses’ hooves pound, but she was effectively and completely cut off from everyone and everything she had ever known ... forever, plus the man who considered her his wife, believed her to be one step up from a prostitute.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she struggled to hold back tears. She couldn't bear it. She just couldn't bear it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  January rolled into February, which rolled into March. Alaina had, on the whole, resigned herself to her fate. The time for inactivity had passed. New life budded green around the estate. Spring struggled to replace winter, and so Alaina felt reborn. Destiny had dealt her a new hand and it was up to her to make sure it was a winning one.

  She sat next to her bedroom window with several important decisions to make. “If I'm to take over Alicia's life, the first thing I have to do is to rid myself of the stigma of the Countess’ reputation. But how can I do that? Especially since I'm stuck here and the Cransworths are in London."

  Not only did she have to mend her fences with polite society, as the term went, but she also had her work cut out for her concerning her relationships with the Cransworths.

  “Richard guards Terry from me like a ferocious lion protecting his male cub and heir. And as for Richard himself....” She broke off with a sigh.

  She wouldn't mind a tryst with Richard. Not one darn bit. Muscular shoulders, narrow hips, and taut thighs. His crisp white linen shirts had to hold captive masses of masculine black chest hair.

  Hmmm. She licked her lips. And his large hands. Imagine them slowly sliding down her sides to stop on the rounded curve of her buttocks. Dreamy.

  But what was the use? That would never happen. “He's made it quite clear he puts up with me only because he thinks we're married."

  Shoulders slumped, she stared out at spring scented greenery.

  When Dana burst into the room unexpectedly, Alaina was glad for the interruption.

  “Oh, Milady, this missive came by messenger! It has His Lordship's seal. ‘Tis not bad news, I hope."

  While the maid waited, Alaina opened the letter. Even the sight of Richard's crabbed handwriting and impersonal tone gave her a stab of regret. She quickly read the brief note.

  “Goodness, Dana! Lady Wilhelmina has fallen seriously ill.” Alaina stood and read the letter again to make sure. “We must pack and leave for London immediately.”

  A heaven-sent reprieve. From Richard's words, she inferred that he wouldn't have sent for her, however the Dowager wanted to see her. But that wasn't important. She was going to London!

  Though the reason for the trip was tragic, Alaina could not help but be jubilant. This was her chance to make good on her resolutions.

  ~*~

  Alaina gazed out at the gaslit, crowded street of London—the London of 1817. Safely inside the Saybrooke townhouse on Hanover Square, she somehow felt threatened by the city's primitive atmosphere. She had been to London once before on a stopover for her Italian trip. Playing the tourist, she squeezed in such notable sights as Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, Trafalgar Square, and saw two critically acclaimed plays. But that was almost two hundred years in the future. It wouldn't be realistic to expect the city to look familiar.

  It didn't: the long shadows of the houses; the sinister figures lurking on the sidewalks; the private black gates barring entrance to the general public—all of these things contributed to the menacing air. Maybe it was the dim gaslight playing tricks on her unaccustomed eyes. Maybe the morning sun would soften the harsh edges of the city's face.

  Alaina shuddered and drew back from the Drawing Room window to seek solace from the friendly fireplace. Its warmth was likely to be the only warmth she found in this strange city.

  The townhouse butler, Higgins, entered the room. “Supper is served, Milady.”

  She glanced at the large ornamental mantle clock. Eight o'clock—a late hour to eat a meal.

  Alaina rose and followed the butler into the Dining Room. Here was another challenge for her: a completely new staff to learn about and a grand townhouse to become familiar with, though tha
nkfully its scale did not rival that of Saybrooke Hall. She had no idea who her fellow diners would be. When she had arrived two hours ago, the Cransworth family members were mysteriously absent. And the Dowager Countess, she was informed, was not to be disturbed.

  Squaring her shoulders, she walked into an elegant room filled with the Cransworth clan: Richard, his two brothers, and Lucy were present. Richard, as usual, looked magnificent in his deep grey tail coat with plain white starched cravat. When he caught sight of her, the small lines around his eyes and mouth seemed more pronounced. Because of disapproval, of course.

  Seeing him again stirred more memories than she could safely admit to. Even her breasts tingled with ... anticipation?

  “Alicia!” Lucy exclaimed. “When did you arrive? I did not know you were coming.” She threw her husband's elder brother an indignant look.

  The younger woman ran to Alaina and gave her a hug. “This is famous! What fun we shall have together.”

  The two older brothers cleared their throats and frowned, probably to remind Lucy of the circumstances concerning their mother.

  Lucy reddened. “I forgot,” she whispered. Nevertheless, she took Alaina in tow and prattled on about how good it was to see her.

  The change in Lucy's appearance was amazing. Gone was the timid, pale, hopelessly gauche girl that Alaina first met. In her place stood a glowing, confident young woman dressed in the first style of fashion.

  Alaina automatically glanced at Charlie to gage the effect his wife had on him. Instead of the bon vivant that he seemed at Christmas time, he now bore a stern face with frequent scowls. In short, he was more like his elder brother.

  A smile of genuine amusement lit Alaina's face. This was going to be interesting.

  Alaina took her place at the table. “Nigel, it's good to see you again. But aren't you suppose to be at Cambridge?"

  “With Mother's condition,” he explained, “I wanted to be near her. She protested, of course, but I can afford to lose a term. And, London does have its attractions."

  Whatever attractions Nigel referred to, caused Charlie to frown.

  “Do you have plans for this evening, Alicia?” Nigel continued. “I've a party headed for a concert at Vauxhall Gardens tonight. Be honored if you join us.”

  Nigel had matured in the three months. No longer tongue-tied or boyishly awkward, the young man was incredibly attractive.

  Alaina's eyes sparkled at the invitation but she had to refuse. “Thank you but I—”

  “Alicia cannot attend,” Richard curtly told his brother.

  “As I was saying, I'm much too tired tonight.” Alaina struggled to keep the emotion out of her voice. “Maybe another time, okay?”

  She was not going to let Richard railroad her life. He had sent for her; he would have to take the consequences.

  Nigel slipped her a conspiratorial wink. “Zounds, you're the only person I know that can take the starch out of my eldest brother!"

  “I would not encourage her, Nigel,” Richard said in a dampening tone. “M'dear, you are nibbling like a sparrow. Is the food not up to your standards?"

  The sumptuous feast on the table could, in no way, fail to please even the most finicky eater. “It's not that. I'm not used to having dinner so late."

  “Now you're roasting us, Alicia,” Charlie gibed. “The night is just beginning for the beau monde, and doesn't end until dawn.”

  Lucy lifted her nose up at him. “It is too bad you are tired, Alicia, for I was about to ask you to join me. Lady Dartmoor is holding a small musicale.”

  Lucy's husband threw his napkin down in disgust. “Don't expect me to accompany you. Musicale, indeed. Crashing bore!”

  She turned toward Charlie and said sweetly, “Oh no, I certainly would not subject you to, what you would consider, a tedious evening. George Slader is escorting me.”

  Charlie's color rose sharply and steam almost issued from his ears. “That jackanapes! That man is a notorious rake—breaks reputations like eggs. I won't have you—”

  “Charles, dear, I do not understand why you take exception to George. He is a perfect gentleman. Says nothing but the kindest words about you. Besides,” she added as she stood up from her chair, “I have never protested to you about Monique.” With that bombshell, Lucy left the room.

  Uncertain about what she should do, Alaina also rose. From the looks on all of the brothers’ faces, it was apparent that Monique was someone Charlie did not want Lucy to know about.

  “I'll go see to Lucy,” Alaina murmured.

  On her way to the door, she glanced at Richard. He must have felt her looking at him for he met her gaze.

  Wow. A million volts sizzled inside her. It seemed an eternity before they broke the connection. Evidently the man could still turn on every button in her body.

  When she knocked on Lucy's door, the young woman wiped at her tears. “Oh Alicia, I am so miserable! Can you believe that man? He has the effrontery to harass me about my friends. As if he cares! Then he goes to see that ... that Paphian!” She then broke down, weeping violently on Alaina's shoulder.

  Alaina didn't know what a Paphian was exactly but she could figure it out. “But hasn't Charlie been paying more attention to you? Ever since Christmas, he seemed, well, to be reevaluating his feelings for you.”

  “All I can say is he has been growing more and more irritable. We have not even ... er, you know,” Lucy muttered. “It has been months.”

  Alaina sat down with a sigh, thinking how long it had been since she shared physical intimacy. “Yes, I know. Charlie sounds more and more like Richard.”

  The humor in that remark hit them at the same time and they both burst into laughter.

  The next day, Alaina was able to see the Dowager Countess in her cheery red and white boudoir and marveled at how well the older woman appeared. She lay propped up on her bed, drinking a cup of tea.

  “Good morning, Ma'am. Goodness, but you look the picture of health."

  “Alicia! It is so wonderful to see you!” Lady Wilhelmina accepted the hug, then took another sip of tea. Setting down the porcelain china cup, she sighed, “Ah, for a taste of French brandy!"

  “Ma'am?” Invalids didn't usually request liquor.

  The Dowager grew pensive. “Dear Alicia, you must think me a bit odd. It is just that I....” She patted a space by her bedside. “Here, sit down. I need someone to confide in. You see, I am only pretending to be an invalid."

  Alaina's eyes widened.

  “No, no, there was no pretending at first, my dear. I collapsed at the Marquess of Ravenwood's rout—with heart palpitations—and, I was not given long to live."

  Alaina gripped the older woman's hands. “That can't be!"

  Lady Wilhelmina smiled. “Exactly what I said. And after three days, I felt strong enough to resume my busy calendar—but I did not. During those days, I had plenty of time to think, so I hatched a plan. A dowager countess on her deathbed, you see, has certain privileges, and I certainly expect to have every whim of mine granted. I exercised my rights, and so requested to see you one last time."

  She adjusting her white lacy mob cap and glanced at Alaina. “I still have hopes for a reconciliation between you and Richard, but nothing can happen with Richard here and you at Saybrooke Hall."

  “Oh!” Talk about being put on the spot.

  “Do you still care for your husband, my dear?"

  My husband. If only that was the case. Alaina blinked rapidly. “Um, things are so complex between us, Ma'am. I—I don't know what to say."

  “Do you care for your husband?”

  “You're insistent, aren't you, Wilhelmina?” Alaina stalled for time. She reluctantly looked into her heart and found the answer. “Yes. I do. But he—"

  “No buts. Throwing you both together again is bound to stir up a hornet's nest ... and then again, a miracle can also occur.” The Dowager grinned. “I am hoping for the miracle."

  Alaina gave the older woman's hand a squeeze. “I appreciate
your support. Richard is ... well, he's being ... difficult.”

  “I know, dear. My son can be very obstinate at times. Indeed, let me tell you what he has planned for little Terrence.”

  Lady Wilhelmina paused to take a sip of tea. “Because of my ill health, Richard has decided to send Terrence off to Eton. What with Richard mucking around in archaeological holes, pardon my blunt speech, he believes Eton would be just the place to bring stability and discipline into his young life.”

  The grandmother's sigh came straight from the depths of her soul. “I cannot swerve him from his decision.”

  Alaina recalled what she remembered about the private boys’ school. “Doesn't Eton have an excellent reputation? I mean only the upper crust of England and all that? But that aside, isn't Terry too young to go there?"

  “True, attendance usually begins at age twelve but it is not unheard of for youngsters seven or eight to attend. As you know, Terrence will turn seven this year.” Lady Wilhelmina shuddered. “To be subjected to that infamously cruel school!"

  “Cruel? I don't understand, Ma'am."

  “Perhaps you are unaware the boys have a name for Dr. Keate, the headmaster since 1809. They call him ‘the flogger.’”

  “Does Richard know this?” Alaina tapped her foot against the carpeted floor. If that were the case, then she agreed with the Dowager one hundred percent.

  Lady Wilhelmina just shrugged. “You are my only hope.” Settling back against her many pillows, she finished another cup of tea.

  Alaina emitted a small sigh. “You're right, of course. It's unthinkable to even consider sending Terry to a school like that. But now, here's the problem. If Richard doesn't listen to you, he definitely won't listen to anything I have to say. I have no influence with that man.”

  The Dowager shook her mob-capped head. “You will think of a way to get around him, Alicia dear. He once quite adored you, you know.”

  That comment did not raise any hopes in Alaina's breast. Richard's love had turned into hate, and hate seemed to be a stronger and more lasting emotion.

  After a timid knock on the door, Dana entered the bedroom. “Pardon me, Milady, but His Lordship wishes to have a word with you in the Study."