An Affair Downstairs (8 page)

Lady Holcomb moved down the line, her husband trailing after her. Once there was a brief lull between guests, Alice turned to Sophia. She didn't want to appear too eager, but perhaps showing interest in Ralston would keep her sister from encouraging her to accept Brumley, should he ever succeed in getting her alone. “The Earl of Ralston? How old is he? Have you met him before?”

“He has dined here. Years ago, when his father passed away, he spent some time with the Holcombs. I don't know his age, but he's not yet thirty, and he's a bit older than you.”

“I see.” An earl under thirty? Showing her some interest? Alice thought that Ralston's presence might take some of the sting out of Winthrop's abandonment for the evening.

Once in the ballroom, she found her first partner. She hadn't seen Robert, Baron Shermont, since they were children in Delaney Square and he'd gone off to school. Clearly, he had grown into his looks, no longer a husky boy with buckteeth.

“Good to see you again, Lady Alice.” He swept her into his arms. She felt no romantic stirrings, but she wouldn't mind a second dance with him.

“And you, Lord Shermont. May I call you Robert? You still feel like a friend. How are things in Delaney Square?”

“Of course, Alice. Your parents send their regards. They're sorry they couldn't make the journey.”

“I understand. I'm not sure what's worse these days, Father's temper or his gout.” She'd been home for a few weeks over the summer to visit and had witnessed her father's growing discomfort firsthand.

“He is having trouble getting around.”

“Poor Father. I know how he detests sitting still.”

“He doesn't seem to mind it so much lately. He has taken up a hobby, building ships in bottles. It keeps him occupied.”

“Ships? I don't recall Father ever being that impressed by the sea. He complained the entire time we were at Brighton.”

“I guess we have no idea what will interest us once we're older. We'll all change as we age. You dance well, Alice. Almost as well as you bake mud pies.”

She laughed. “I hope better than that. I haven't made a mud pie in years.”

“You were the best mud-pie baker in Delaney Square. Mine could never hold a candle to yours.”

“But I think you might be the better dancer, Robert.” Effortlessly, he guided her across the floor, keeping perfect time to the music. She almost regretted when the song ended and her next partner found her.

She'd lost count of dances and partners when Lord Brumley finally found her. Her dance with pleasantly forgettable Mr. Danleigh had just come to an end when Brumley appeared before her.

“Lady Alice, I believe our time has come.” Instant dread snaked through her. She wondered if she could manage an excuse. Her feet hurt? She needed to sit down? He was beginning to take her in his arms when Lord Ralston came from seemingly out of nowhere.

“I'm sorry, old man.” He clapped Brumley on the back and stepped in. “The lady has promised this one to me.”

Before Brumley could protest, Ralston put his arms around her and swept her into the throng.

“My hero,” she said when she could finally catch her breath. “You have no idea how perfect your timing was.”

“I have more idea than you know. Isn't he the man who has been trying to get you alone so he can ask for your hand? We can't have that. I'm just getting to know you.”

She didn't mean to like Lord Ralston, but a thrill coursed through her at his words. “How could you possibly know that?”

He shrugged. “Servants talk. A smart man knows which servants will have the most to say and takes advantage of the situation.”

“Which one of them betrayed my secrets?” She pretended to be shocked, her eyes widening. She was, in fact, delighted that he'd been asking after her, but she reminded herself to remain aloof. A man like Ralston might take her interest all too seriously.

“One of the maids. I believe her name was Mary? Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I won't admonish her for gossiping since she has actually done me a great favor this once.” Her hand felt small in his as he expertly guided her around the room.

“I do feel a little bad. We were rather rude to the poor fellow. I'll have to make it up to him by letting him win at cards.”

“I don't think Mr. Brumley plays cards. He doesn't seem to do much of anything but read gardening manuals.”

“Before his marriage, he played cards, badly I'm afraid. Lady Cavendish settled all his debts after the wedding and made him promise not to gamble anymore.”

“And how do you know all this? Do you flirt with the footmen for stories, too?”

He laughed. “You are a delight, Lady Alice. No. I heard it from my uncle.”

A delight. He wasn't the first man who had complimented her so, though unlike the other, he hadn't taken it back. She felt suddenly disloyal to Mr. Winthrop for having such a good time with Lord Ralston. Of course, Winthrop had made it clear that they were “friends” and to expect nothing more. Ralston, on the other hand, seemed to have an interest in her, and he was available and perfectly acceptable. He might expect marriage, though, and she would be in a spot to convince him that she didn't want to be proper about things. She only wanted a wild affair.

“Your uncle, Lord Holcomb?”

“Lady Holcomb wouldn't know anything about Brumley's gambling. Or, she wouldn't say anything if she did. Not to me. It would be indelicate.” He suddenly changed course and began to direct them to the opposite corner of the room, perhaps due to another sighting of Lord Brumley.

For once, she welcomed a strong male lead and followed him willingly. “And yet, you've told me. Do you have the wrong impression of me?”

“On the contrary.” He smiled and raised a brow. “I think I have a very good impression of you, Lady Alice. And the right one. You're the one who confessed to taking liberties.”

“Touché, Lord Ralston.”

As the sound of the music faded, she realized she had allowed him to dance her out of the main ballroom into a gallery, and then out into the dimly lit hall.

“He won't find you here,” Ralston said by way of an excuse. “The dance was ending. I didn't want to take the risk that he would accost you again.”

“Thank you,” she said, still in his arms. She gestured toward the bench across from the windows overlooking the garden. “I could use a minute to sit down. I've been on my feet since this afternoon.”

“By all means,” he said, twirling her gracefully away from him and helping her to a seat. “Shall I fetch us some refreshments? A glass of champagne?”

“Not right now. Unless you want something. If not, sit here by me.” She patted the cushion beside her and pointed to the window. “We can spy on lovers sneaking off into the shrubbery.”

She saw Robert headed down a path, holding hands with a young woman she didn't recognize, another of the ball guests. “There goes my friend Baron Shermont.”

“With Lady Symon's middle daughter, Jane. I'm glad. You had your first dance with him. I was seething with jealousy, but now I know he won't be a rival.”

“Seething? It's a bit early for that, Lord Ralston. Though I'm flattered.” She smiled at him.

“You're right. Perhaps seething is a bit too strong. Still.” He laced fingers with hers. “There's one out of the way.”

“Robert, Baron Shermont, and I are old friends. We used to bake mud pies together.”

“Lady Jane Symon gave me my first kiss. There. Our friends have found each other.”

“For tonight, anyway. Sometimes these things don't go much further, do they?”

“For our sake, I hope that's not true. I'll be in West Yorkshire for another few weeks, at least, and I was hoping to call on you.”

“I would like that,” she said quietly, meeting his mysterious gaze.

“Lord Averford has invited us to come shooting in a few days.”

“Lord Averford does love his excursions.” A pity she hadn't really learned to shoot. “When Lord Holcomb comes for birding, Lady Holcomb usually joins him and they stay for dinner. She doesn't hunt, of course. She visits with Sophia.”

“Then I will be seeing you again soon, though I'm not sure it could possibly be soon enough.”

At the edge of the garden lane, she spied Winthrop. He stood back, almost blending into the hedges, and looked up at the windows. She couldn't see his face, but she knew him from his posture and his walk. She knew him from the shape of his head, the width of his shoulders. She knew him. And she was a little surprised to find that she missed him tonight. Even in the company of Lord Ralston.

“I should be getting back. I'm promised for more dances and I think I can find my next partner without running into Brumley. But thank you again, for saving me.” She stood.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it before letting go. She was sorry now that she still wore the gloves. “The pleasure was all mine. You go ahead without me so it doesn't look like we were off on an intrigue. I'll follow in a few minutes.”

She nodded and started to walk away.

“Alice.” He called her back. “Know that I mean to find you again before supper.”

“Until then, Lord Ralston.”

In the ballroom, she stayed along the windows overlooking the garden as she crossed the room and then lingered on the other side, being careful to avoid Brumley. Once she saw that Ralston had reentered the room, she stepped into the adjoining parlor and out through the door to the garden in search of Logan.

His breath caught when he first saw her through the window, gliding across the room in a young rake's arms. As much as Logan hated not to be the one holding her, he was relieved that she wasn't with Brumley, and that her partner seemed completely captivated by her. Or perhaps he imagined it. From the distance, he could barely discern their facial expressions, but he envisioned Alice laughing and having a good time.

He knew her at once, spying her through the crowd, her auburn hair piled in a mass of curls on her head, her shoulders bare. She'd chosen lavender for her gown, and he thought it a splendid choice for contrast to bring out the green in her eyes. God, he was a fool. A fool to fall in love with her, a fool to let her get away. But he would be a bigger fool to saddle her with an unsuitable husband, a rumored murderer, and expect her to handle the gossip that he'd learned to shrug off.

Perhaps it was a duke holding her just now or a marquess, at least an earl? She could avoid Brumley's advances and fall in love with the right man tonight. And then she would realize that what she'd had with Logan had truly been friendship and nothing more. He would be alone again, no one to trail after him chirping like a magpie, teasing him, asking endless questions to distract him from his work.

“I thought you weren't coming tonight. And here you are.”

Alice. He closed his eyes. A wave of longing went through him at the sound of her voice. He wanted to turn around and kiss her, hard and fast, claiming her for his own, never letting her go. Instead, he steeled himself, opened his eyes, and turned around slowly.

“Lady Alice. You should be inside. They're playing a waltz. Surely, you're promised for this dance?” His voice did not betray him, though he felt like he'd been punched in the gut when he saw her up close, hit with the full force of his sacrifice. Her beauty overwhelmed him.

“This one is for me,” she said, holding out her hands. “I get to choose my partner. I came to dance with you, Mr. Winthrop.”

He stepped from the shadows into the courtyard. He wore the same navy blue suit he had worn all day. “I'm not dressed for it.”

“I don't care.” She laughed. “Please don't deny me one dance. I won't force you to come inside. We can hear the music from here.”

She placed her hands, encased in gloves that went up past her elbows, on his shoulders.

He took her by the waist and began to move. “You look exquisite tonight, Lady Alice. Truly. The sight of you takes my breath clean away.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I saw you from the window. You looked lonely. I wish you had changed your mind and come to the ball.”

“I am at the ball. With the fairest partner.” She felt right in his arms. “What more could I ask?”

She didn't answer, but lowered her head to his shoulder. She smelled like the roses that were no longer blooming in the garden, with an extra hint of something sweet, like baking biscuits. The bare skin of her neck glowed in the moonlight, and he fought back the urge to taste her, to drop kisses along her neck and her shoulders, along the low neck of her gown that exposed more of the tops of her breasts than he had yet seen. He imagined having her alone in a room, tugging the gown lower…

“I could stay out here forever,” she said. “It's a beautiful night. Not even that cold.”

“It's colder than you realize when you're out for a while.” He knew from experience. His hands had been ice until he touched her.

“Then I'll stay until I'm chilled to the bone. You dance well, Logan.”

“I have a skilled partner. It helps.”

“We're suited, you and I. I've missed you tonight.”

“Surely there are other young men to command your attention.”

“But they're not you.” She looked straight into his eyes. “They can never be you.”

“I'm not going to kiss you again, Lady Alice. No matter how much I want you.” He'd never been so painfully honest with her, but tonight she deserved the truth.

“You do want me. I can feel it. Why do you deny me? We can be good together. I don't expect you to marry me. I just want—”

He placed a finger to her lips. “We can't always have what we want. I learned that as a young man, and I've been paying for my mistakes ever since.”

“What mistakes? What did you do? Tell me. I want to know everything.”

“Not now. Tonight is for enchantment, not reliving the pain of my past. We can have this dance. For now, it's enough.”

She shook her head. Tears glittered in her eyes. “Never enough.”

“It's all we can have.” He pulled her closer, placing a hand on the back of her head and urging her to relax against him. “Let's enjoy it while it lasts.”

They swayed in each other's arms, no longer dancing, but responding to the music and the feel of each other. White specks dotted his vision. For a minute, he thought he was crying, until she said, “It's snowing,” with a laugh. “Look, Logan, it's really snowing.”

“The first snow of the year. Sturridge said it was coming, but that it wouldn't amount to much. It should be safe enough for guests to leave when the time comes.”

“Ever dutiful, Mr. Winthrop. Forget your responsibilities. Look around. It's like a dream world,” she enthused. “An enchanted fairyland just for us.”

That's when he couldn't hold back any longer. He had to give in to his urge, just this once.

“Alice.” He breathed her name against her shoulder as he tipped her face up to his. “My Alice.”

He kissed her gently at first, afraid to overwhelm her, then grew more urgent as she responded and drew his tongue between her lips. One hand tangled in her hair, unmindful of her undoubtedly elaborate arrangement, while the other found the curve of her backside, cradling her against him. She moaned softly.

“This is madness,” he said, breaking away from her.

“If it is, let us lose our minds together.” Her hands raked over his back. “I want this, Logan. I want you.”

“No. Nothing more can happen. We've risked enough. Go back to your ball, Lady Alice.”

“I don't want to. Not now. I want to stay here with you.”

“You'll catch your death of cold.” He stroked her arms. “You're already shivering.”

“Not from the cold.”

“Alice,” he said, sliding his palms down her arms to her hands and giving a gentle squeeze before letting them drop. “I must go. Good night.”

Before he could change his mind, he turned and slowly walked away.

***

Alice watched him go, torn between returning to the ball and running after him. She knew if she went after him, he would probably just run faster to get away and her feet were already aching. Not quite as much as her heart. For him to admit that he wanted her, and then walk away? After that kiss? Her hand flew to her lips, reliving it. It was progress, she reassured herself. She was breaking down his defenses. Eventually, he wouldn't be able to force himself away from her.

She walked back toward the house and stopped when she saw Lord Ralston standing in wait for her. How much had he seen?

“Lord Ralston, what a surprise. You've found me.”

“Instinct brought me here, Alice. Somehow, I just knew where to find you.”

“Fate, my Aunt Agatha would say. There are no coincidences.”

He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “You're frozen. Here. Take my coat.”

“No, I couldn't. I'll warm up inside.” But he'd already slipped free of the sleeves and draped it around her.

“Nonsense. I won't have you catching your death.”

“Well, thank you. It's nice to be looked after.” She cast a glance back toward the courtyard, but there was no longer any sign of Winthrop, only the angel statue that had been keeping watch over them while they danced. Stifling a sigh, she followed Ralston inside.

“Maid, you there,” he called to Nan once they'd walked through the door. “My lady's hair seems to have fallen. Please take a moment to tend her.”

“Of course, my lord.” Nan barely managed to conceal a smile.

Alice's hands flew to her tumble of loose curls. She hadn't realized what a mess she must look.

“Go on,” he urged Alice. “I'll wait right here.”

Alice stepped into the parlor and allowed Nan to pin her hair back up. When she emerged, Lord Ralston was waiting as promised, but he was engaged in conversation with her sister. They were sharing a laugh and didn't even notice Alice had joined them until she interrupted.

“What's funny? I hate missing out on the joke.”

“Alice. Lord Ralston is a bit of an impressionist. I had no idea. He does a perfect imitation of Sir John Bradley attempting to dance.”

Ralston performed a stiffly exaggerated waltz with one leg out and straightened. Sophia lost herself in a second fit of giggles.

“Sir John was injured as a young man at war,” Alice observed, not finding Ralston funny. “I think it admirable that he insists upon taking a turn on the floor with his wife, who adores dancing. He could shift her off to a more capable partner, but he won't have it. He says he can't bear to see her in the arms of another.”

“Yes, and all that romantic nonsense.” Sophia waved off Alice's explanation. “What's a ball if you can't have a little fun?”

“A little fun? At a very kind man's expense? That's not like you, Sister. Thank you. I've warmed up.” She handed Ralston back his coat, but in fact she'd only begun to feel the chill.

“I'm sorry. The fault is all mine. I didn't realize about the injury.” Lord Ralston smiled and cast a sidelong glance at Sophia even as he apologized to Alice. He slipped into his coat. “Your sister is right, Lady Averford. Let's not be cruel.”

Sophia blushed with apparent shame. “I'll go see about the supper service.”

Lord Ralston buried his face in his hand, seemingly distraught. “I've really done it now.”

“What have you done?” Alice asked.

“I've put you off.” He dropped his hand and met her gaze. “I like you and now you probably won't agree to go riding with me tomorrow. I always do this.”

“Do…what, exactly?”

His perfect teeth gnawed his full lower lip. “I'm awkward in social situations. I become nervous when I can't make adequate conversation and I play the fool. Suddenly, I found myself standing with our hostess, and I was at a loss for words.”

“So you mocked poor Lord Bradley?”

“I suppose I do it to take the attention off my own shortcomings. There. I've said it. I'm sorry to show you the ugly truth, Lady Alice. You deserve so much better.”

“Nonsense.” She placed her hand on his arm consolingly. “You've been perfectly natural with me so far.”

He nodded. “I find it easier to get on with you. You bring out the best in me.”

“Well, then I suppose we've found the answer. It's settled. You will have to stay by me until you feel more comfortable to face the masses.”

“I would like that.” He took her hand and pressed it warmly between his. “You're very kind to take on a charity case.”

She laughed. “Now you've gone too far. If you expect me to believe that any of the women in this room wouldn't gladly take a poor fool who looks like you under their wing? With your name and position, too? You have every advantage in a crowded ballroom, and you know it.”

“I wish that was enough to bless me with easy manners and a silver tongue. Alas, even such advantages can't help me to overcome my anxieties.”

She rolled her eyes. “Come along, Lord Ralston. Let's get to the table before all the good seats are gone. I don't want to have to wait until a space clears.” With so many guests at the ball, supper started at one in the morning and would be served in a continuous rotation until three, with new diners taking the places vacated by the previous ones.

“I meant it about riding tomorrow,” he said, pulling out a chair for her after they entered the expanded dining room. “There's a great stretch of land between Thornbrook Park and Holcomb House that's worth exploring. There's one very pretty lagoon in particular that I wanted to share with you.”

“A pretty lagoon? Perhaps it had better wait for spring.”

He shook his head. “It's a wonderland in winter when the pond freezes over. The perfect place for ice skating. Do you skate?”

“I haven't in years but I used to enjoy it.”

“One day, we'll go skating then.”

“I think it a tad early for that.” She held a hand up, gesturing to stop him before he got carried away.

“You're right. The temperatures have only started to drop below freezing. In a few more weeks perhaps. The sight of the flurries got me excited. I love winter.”

“What I mean is, riding, skating. You're getting ahead of expectation. You know how this goes. You're supposed to call on me first. I won't be available, of course, so you'll leave your card.”

“And then come back another time, where you will receive me oh-so-formally in the drawing room. Properly chaperoned.”

She nodded. “And then perhaps you can ask me to go riding. Do you see? There's an order to these things. We can't just go skipping ahead.”

“Of course we can. We're unconventional.” He laughed and took her hand under the table. “Let's skip the bouillon and go straight on to the Newburg. Or we'll start with the pudding. Footman, bring my lady one of those cakes.”

There weren't any cakes out yet. James, the footman, looked at Lord Ralston in confusion. “Let's not befuddle the man, Ralston. Bouillon will do, James. Thank you.”

“There are always cakes. How can there be confusion?”

“Behave yourself, Lord Ralston,” she chastised. “We don't want poor Sophia to get out of sorts. She likes everything to be in proper order.”

“Does she now?” He looked across the table to where Sophia stood in animated conversation with one of the Sentleden girls. “I suppose she would. Let's not upset Lady Averford by any means.”