Alicia (15 page)

Alicia gazed at him in horror and sat rigid.

“I said, take your bodice off,”
he reiterated slowly. When she continued to sit unmoving he rose and walked to the hall. He returned to toss Felicia’s bonnet in the center of the table. Alicia slowly and awkwardly removed her bodice. “To the skin,”
he instructed. She undid the drawstring of the chemise and lifted it off over her head. Her eyes were fixed on her plate.

“Excellent. You have further improved my appetite,”
he remarked smoothly. His eyes caressed her breasts as he lifted each bite of food to his mouth and dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “You are not eating.”

“I am not hungry.”

“Nonetheless, I should like to see you eat.”
He touched the bonnet with a languid finger.

Alicia picked up a fork and awkwardly lifted a bit of partridge to her mouth. She was horridly aware of her naked body. The bonnet in the center of the table hypnotized her. Chew as she might, she could not swallow the bite. Eventually she put her napkin to her mouth and inconspicuously removed the food. Tackar seemed satisfied with her one attempt. He continued to work his way through his meal, his eyes seldom straying from her breasts. Eventually he put his fork down and rose from his seat; Alicia did likewise. “No, sit there,”
he ordered and came round the table to stand behind her. He reached a hand around her and gripped a breast firmly, flicking the nipple. Slowly he did the same with the other. “Now,”
he said, “we will proceed to your bedroom.”

Alicia stooped to gather up her clothes and press them against her naked chest. He wrested them from her. “Don’t be absurd, Alicia,”
he laughed.

Alicia’s limbs felt as though they would not support her, but she knew he would carry her if she did not ascend by herself, so she made a supreme effort. It was growing dark now and Tackar lit a branch of candles to carry with him. Alicia put a trembling hand on the doorknob and opened the door carefully. She then walked into the room and stood by the bed, her mind frozen, her body shivering.

“Are you cold?”
he asked with mock solicitude. “I shall light the fire Mavis has conscientiously laid. But first I want the rest of your clothes off. Do I need to fetch the bonnet?”

Alicia removed the remainder of her clothing with shaking hands. She did not know where to look when she stood there naked. Tackar walked around her, touching her nipples, her waist, her thighs. “Beautiful. Better than I had imagined even.”

He left her standing there and went leisurely to light the fire and the candles in the room. When the fire was going well, which seemed to Alicia to take an inordinate amount of time under his unskilled hands, he turned to her and said, “Get on the bed.”
His eyes followed her eagerly as she obeyed his instruction, and he rose to join her.

A voice from the doorway said with cold fury, “Stay away from her, Tackar.”
Alicia knew the mortification of being fully exposed to Lord Stronbert’s view when Tackar sprang away with an oath. But the marquis kept his eyes on the man opposite him. “I have your daughter safe, Lady Coombs. Get under the covers. I will send her to you.”

Alicia crawled under the covers and hid her head in a pillow before giving way to the shuddering sobs which wracked her. Even then she was aware of Stronbert’s voice. “You will meet me in the morning, Tackar. Seven o’clock at your oak. If you do not arrive, then you had best spend the rest of your miserable life outside of England, for I will find you. Now get out.”

Tackar could not understand how his plans had gone awry, but he did not stay to find out. There was murder in the marquis’s eyes, and Tackar had a healthy respect for his own skin if for no one else’s. He sneered with bravado at his opponent, who stepped aside to let him pass and followed him down the stairs. Alicia heard the door slam but it was some time before she heard steps on the stairs again. She was unable to lift her head until she heard her daughter’s voice whisper softly, “It is all right now, Mama. Here, I have brought you a glass of brandy. Lord Stronbert will see that Mr. Tackar goes away, and then he is sending for Lady Gorham to come to us.”

Alicia turned then and surveyed her daughter’s tear-stained, exhausted face. “Oh, my love, he did not harm you, did he?”

Silent tears streamed down Felicia’s face, but she shook her head mutely. The two women sat on the bed for a long while holding each other and murmuring comforting sounds, while their tears exhausted themselves. Eventually Alicia spoke. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Haltingly Felicia told of the letter and of her meeting with Tackar. She did not hold back anything and her mother ached for her and comforted her. “He meant to have you too, after all. How did Lord Stronbert find you?”

“He was coming from the Tooker farm when he caught a glimpse of Tackar. It made him suspicious that Tackar turned his head away and that he was leading the mare I hire from the inn sometimes. There was still daylight then and he began to ride along the lane calling for me. When I heard my name I tried to answer, but with the rag in my mouth it was useless. I felt so helpless.”
Her tears began to flow again. When she could finally speak, she whispered, “He had dismounted where he saw the sapling torn from the ground and I could tell that he was close from his voice. I beat against the shed with my feet, over and over, and then he was there.

“Oh, Mama, I had been so afraid. I was afraid for you but mostly I was afraid for me. I could not stand his hands on me. I wanted to die. When Lord Stronbert released me, I could not talk. When I tried, there were only sounds, and he held me and he kept running his hands over my hair as you do when I am upset and saying, ‘Go ahead and cry, Felicia. It will help you.’
And I was not afraid of him, for he held me like you do and then I cried. It was more like screaming, really. Or an animal caught in a trap. And I was ashamed for him to hear me like that but he kept saying, ‘Good girl.’”

She drew a shuddering breath. “When I could talk again I told him we must come to you. I am so sorry I could not talk before, Mama. We could have been here much sooner. But Lord Stronbert said we were in time.”
Her eyes anxiously questioned her mother.

“Yes, love, you were in time.”

“Lord Stronbert made me wait in the drawing room in the dark. But I did not mind so much, except that I wanted to be with you. When the door slammed he came in to me and lit the candles and told me you were all right. But he sounded so strange that I was afraid for you. He told me to be brave and take some brandy up to you and that he would send Lady Gorham if his messenger could get there before they left for the ball. When he is sure Mr. Tackar is gone, he will wait in the drawing room.”

Alicia sipped at the brandy her daughter offered her again and motioned for Felicia to have some too. “It’s like drinking fire!”
the girl exclaimed.

“Yes.”
Alicia smiled faintly. “But it helps put some starch in you when you feel like a limp rag. Have a little more.”

Felicia did as she was bid and the color returned to her cheeks. “Shall I get you your dressing gown, Mama?”

“No, my clothing.”
When Felicia made to bring her the outfit which had been discarded on the floor, she shuddered and said, “Those are to be burned. All of them.”
At Felicia’s anxious look she said softly, “I could not wear them again. They would remind me.”
0f my humiliation and my terror, she thought. Of the degradation and helplessness. I will kill another man before I let him touch me,
she vowed. Aloud she said calmly, “Choose something from the wardrobe, love.”

Felicia busied herself at the wash basin while her mother began to dress. When she was called, she helped to complete her mother’s toilette. “Would you like to go to bed now?”
Alicia asked softly. “You have had a very difficult time.”

“No, Mama. I do not want to be alone yet,”
Felicia admitted. Her mother took her in her arms and held her until the sounds of a carriage stopping outside were succeeded by the murmur of voices in the drawing room.

“I must go down now,”
Alicia said gently. “Come with me a moment and then you and Lady Gorham can come up while I speak with Lord Stronbert.”

The two women descended the stairs slowly and were met at the parlor door by a shaken Lady Gorham. She silently gathered Alicia into her arms and murmured, “My poor dear.”

Alicia noted the ball gown she wore and said, “You are very kind to come, Charlotte. Would you take Felicia upstairs while I have a word with Lord Stronbert?”

“Of course, love.”
Lady Gorham, pleased that Alicia had finally used her name, then hugged Felicia to her and after a moment led the girl back up the stairs, murmuring gently.

Alicia walked into the well-lit room to find the marquis gazing out into the night through the pulled-back draperies. He turned slowly at the sound of her entry, but did not move toward her. “You should not be up,”
he said kindly.

“It was necessary that I speak with you,”
she replied. Her attempt to meet his eyes was not entirely successful.

“Let us be seated, then,”
he suggested. He drew the two winged chairs in front of the fire he had lit in the grate. When Alicia had seated herself, he did so and kept his gaze on the leaping flames.

“I want you to know,”
Alicia began hesitantly, “that I can never thank you enough for what you did for my daughter and myself today. Not just rescuing her, but...helping her to cry out her fear and shame and distress. I think she will be able to handle it better because of that.”

“Would that I could do the same for you.”

“I am older and I have been married,”
she replied stiffly. “It is not the same for me.”

“When you first came to Tetterton I saw Tackar accost you in the High Street.”

“And you thought that what Mr. Parker said was true?”

“No, Lady Coombs, quite the opposite. That is why when I saw him leading the mare I was worried. He is an unprincipled villain.”

“Yes, that is the other thing I have to speak with you about. I realize that in your anger you have challenged him. I cannot allow you to take such a risk because of his behavior toward my daughter and myself. He is beneath your dignity and you have a family to think of.”

“I will meet him, Lady Coombs.”
His tone reminded her of those words spoken in the bedroom.

“He killed my husband in a duel. I will not have him kill you, too. It is none of your affair.”

“I have challenged him, and I will meet him.”

Alicia turned from the fire to face him. “I cannot be responsible for another death.”
Silently tears rolled down her ashen cheeks to be brushed furiously away by an impatient hand. Stronbert handed her a handkerchief, careful not to touch her as he did so. She wiped away the tears and blew her nose.

“You will not be responsible for my death, or for his. You were not responsible for your husband’s.”

“You do not know!”

“Then tell me,”
he urged gently.

“I cannot!”

“You think Tackar dueled your husband because of you?”
When Alicia did not answer he said, “Perhaps you think you unwittingly encouraged him.”

“Never! I have always held the man in contempt!”

“Then there is no reason to think that you had anything to do with their meeting,”
he said reasonably.

Alicia set her chin firmly. “You are right, of course, Lord Stronbert.”

“I have no wish to force your confidence, Lady Coombs. I could hope that it would be given freely, for nothing you tell me will go any further.”

“It would do no good to tell you, my lord.”

“You should tell someone. It was but a moment ago that you told me what good it did Felicia to let loose her emotions. Can you not see that the same applies to you? I would be honored to stand your friend.”

“You are a man!”
she cried accusingly.

A slow grin curved his lips. “Too true. But do not take that too much to heart. I am also a son, a father, a brother.”

“I told my brother,”
she whispered.

“About Tackar?”

“Yes, and he wanted to kill him, too. I would not let him. I cannot let you.”

“And what protection did you think your brother could offer you? He does not live nearby, I expect.”

“No, he lives in Oxford. It was for Felicia’s sake that I told him—in case she should have to go to him.”
Her voice was so faint that he had to concentrate to hear her. Suddenly she said more clearly, “I do not want anyone else to know what happened today.”

“Are you upset that I had Lady Gorham come?”

“Oh, no. She is my dear friend and I could have asked for no one better. But I should be mortified if all those people at the Court were to know about it. You will not tell them,”
she begged.

“I shall not spread the story about, but it might be wise if I spoke a little with Rowland. Felicia is like to be skittish with him and he could inadvertently cause her distress.”

Alicia considered this carefully. “You may be right. I shall leave it to your judgment,”
she said seriously.

He would have liked to tease her about this, but knew the moment was not right. He replied with due gravity, “I promise to broach the matter delicately. Now you really ought to get some rest, Lady Coombs. I shall spend the night here but I will be gone early. You can provide a bed for Lady Gorham?”

“Yes, I will share with Felicia. There is no need for you to stay,”
she said uncertainly.

“There is every need for me to stay,”
he replied with finality. “Go upstairs now and try to relax.”

“How can I relax when you are intent on fighting that creature?”
she blurted.

“Your concern for my well-being is flattering, Lady Coombs.”
He dropped his jesting tone when she flushed. “I am not unfamiliar with pistols, ma’am. You will allow me to handle this matter in my own fashion, if you please.”

Alicia was not proof against that steely tone. She bowed her head in acquiescence. “I will bid you good night, my lord. And godspeed.”
Her sad eyes rested on him for a moment, and then she was gone.

Lord Stronbert did not pass a particularly restful night. The sofa was far too short for his lanky form, and he found the floor confoundedly hard. It was not these matters that disturbed him most, however. Several times during the night he had heard stifled, heart-rending sobs from the floor above him and he longed to have the right to share in the comforting of the girl. For he was sure it was Felicia and not her mother who was sobbing, though he knew Lady Coombs was suffering silently. He had never known before the rage which had swept over him when he found Tackar with her, that defenseless naked body being attacked. The deep-seated fear of men that he had already sensed in Lady Coombs had been strongly, violently reinforced for her and might never be overcome.