Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Alison woke the following morning to a sound that startled her. She couldn’t quite fathom what it was or where it came from.
White light shone through the window and across her face, still chilled because it was winter, but enough to see her blink awake and smile because it told her that today promised to be a most beautiful winter’s day.
She lay there for a moment, confused as to why she started awake so suddenly, and that was when she heard then noise again.
It sounded like something was being… beaten? Hacked apart? A slow and melodic thunk, thunk, thunk, that sounded somehow familiar but also alien to her ears.
Alison lay there a moment longer, still listening, doing her best to figure out what the noise was and from where it emanated. And then it struck her.
Is now really the time?
She was up and out of bed, scurrying across her room to her window where she threw back the thin curtains to confirm what she now knew. Someone was outside her home, and they were chopping wood!
Sure enough, she peered across the estate, following the disturbance until she found the source of that which had awoken her.
It came from the very edge of the estate.
There stood a solitary figure in the snow, chopping away at a pile of timber as if he was the only person in the whole world. Never mind the time.
Alison blinked the world into focus… only for her eyes to widen and her cheeks to flush bright pink because now that she could see clearly who it was that chopped through timber with axe in hand, she could not believe the coincidence.
It is as if he is doing it on purpose. As if he somehow knows where my window is and wants me to see him. But that can’t be the case. Surely, it must be in my head. Although…
It was none other than the man from the market the previous day.
He was too far away to make out clearly, but she knew it was him like she knew her own reflection in the mirror.
She recognized his tall and broad physique.
His messy brown hair. And… and… and… and the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt.
Alison’s eyes widened further as she watched him.
Despite the cold of the morning and the snow that covered the ground, he appeared happy to let his exposed chest out into the wild so that just anyone could see him.
Alison thought to look away but found herself unable.
She thought to scoff at the sight, but that felt forced.
She thought about telling herself the sight was unpleasant, but she knew that to be a lie.
His body looked as if it was carved from ice.
Muscles rippled in the morning light. Veins popped and threatened to burst with each swing of that axe.
His bulging arms were so thick she wondered if he might mistake them for tree trunks that needed to be chopped.
He was, in every sense of the word, perfect and unlike anything Alison had ever witnessed.
She stayed by the window for longer than she was proud to admit.
Her body trembled, but not from the cold. Her mouth ran dry, no need to say why that was. And she felt a warmth spread through her body as she gaped and gawked and wondered if Christmas had arrived early.
She found herself wondering about her neighbor.
He’d undertaken the task of doing his own Christmas shopping yesterday, and now was partaking in manual labor.
This all suggested him to be a servant of the Earl who lived next door.
But that thought only annoyed her further, because if he was a servant then he should not have treated her the way he did yesterday.
Alison might have stayed there for longer, as she had become rather distracted. Only then, she heard voices coming from downstairs, those of her family arriving to break their fast.
A final glance at the shirtless servant… perhaps for a moment longer than was appropriate… and she pulled herself away. It was time to eat.
As was highly predictable, chaos greeted Alison when she walked into the breakfast room.
In this house, could anything else be expected?
“Winnie! What did I tell you about finishing your breakfast before petting that dog!”
“But look at him!” Winnie pouted from the floor where she was already well into the throes of petting Pickle, Alison’s dog. “How can you say no to that face?”
“Quite easily.”
“Might I recommend having her share a bed with the mutt?” Felix drawled as he took a bite of toast. “Seeing as she is so obsessed with playing at being a beast.”
“Where would she find room with you curled up beside it,” Nerissa added as she indicated to a butler to pour her a glass of juice. “Don’t pretend I didn’t find the two of you cuddled together when I came down this morning.”
“Oh, that is rich,” Felix scoffed. “Coming from someone who can’t stop talking about James Carroway as if he is God’s gift. I have seen horse’s rearends that aren’t so ugly.”
“And you can talk! Sally Monroe looks like a dropped cake!”
“Will the two of you stop,” Alison’s mother cried. “And Winnie! Please, sit down. Pickle can wait.”
“Why is that thing allowed inside?” Felix added with a sneer. Pickle, sensing he was being spoken about, yapped and hurried to Felix’s leg where he started to rub his body. “Argh!”
“He likes you,” Nerissa laughed. “About time someone showed you affection.”
“Get it off me!”
“Here, Pickle!” Winnie sat down beside Alison’s mother and was quick to tear off a piece of toast and hold it under the table.
“Don’t feed it!” Alison’s mother exclaimed.
“Winnie, that is disgusting.”
“He likes it!”
Alison paused at the doorway as she observed the scene before her.
It had always been this way. From the moment that Felix entered the world crying, Alison’s mother’s attention was focus entirely on him.
And when Nerissa came two years later, she spread that attention further, while offering little to Alison who was six by that stage.
And seeing as Felix and Nerissa bickered like fishwives, Alison had always found it difficult to truly connect with them.
“Good morning,” Alison said as she entered the breakfast room. “How did everyone sleep?”
Felix barely spared Alison a glance, and Nerissa did not look at her at all; their bickering was all they had time for. And as for her own mother? She was too busy chastising Winnie to greet Alison.
The only one who took notice was Pickle, who barked happily and scampered across the room. Alison beamed and scooped the terrier into her arms, letting it lick her face and laughing all the while. And, as she expected, no one seemed to care.
“Don’t listen to them,” she whispered into her dog’s ear as she scratched his belly. “You are far more well behaved than all of them put together.”
“Alison!” Her mother finally looked up as Alison took her seat. “Finally. I was about to send someone to wake you.”
“Oh?” Alison said as she set Pickle down on her lap. “Did you need me for something?”
“What I need is for you to watch that dog – keep it away from Winnie,” she explained with a warning scowl. “The last thing she needs is to be distracted.”
“I won’t be!”
“You need to pack your things,” her mother said to Winnie. As she did, Alison pulled a face which had Winnie giggling. “We leave in a few days, and I do not want the packing left to the last minute.”
“Best listen to her,” Felix said rightly. “I refuse to be late because you can’t do as you are told.”
“You too, Felix,” her mother then said. “And Nerissa. Your father wishes to take the two of you into London today to purchase gifts for your cousins. I expect the two of you to be ready as soon as you finish breaking your fast.”
Felix snorted. “We do not need to be babied.”
“Oh, really?” her mother shot back at him. “I wish that was the case, but history tells me differently.”
Nerissa burst into laughter and Felix glowered as he went back to his plate of food.
Alison shook her head, not at all surprised her mother was forced to treat her children in such a way.
They might have been adults in the most traditional sense, but they behaved like children.
What was more, they enjoyed the attention, as if they wanted to be rebuked, coddled, and dotted upon day and night.
This left Alison on the outskirts of her mother’s attention, because she was more than capable of taking care of herself.
Not that she wouldn’t have minded if just once her mother cared to remember that she was her daughter also, even feigning the need to look out for Alison to remind her that she was a part of this family.
While this state of calamity was common enough, it had grown worse this week on account of an impending trip to be made in a few days. The entire family were set to head north for Christmas, and this last-minute rush just now was to ensure that nothing would be forgotten.
Ironic, Alison thought, as she was starting to feel forgotten herself.
“Good morning, family!” Striding into the breakfast room came Alison’s stepfather, the Baron of Pemberton. “How are we all feeling?”
“Father!” Winnie cried with delight. “Where have you been?”
Alison’s stepfather swept toward Winnie and gave her a kiss on the head. Next, he kissed his wife on the cheek, before moving around the table to kiss Nerissa, finishing his morning greetings by giving Felix a pat on the shoulder.
As for Alison? He found her at the end of the table and offered a polite nod. “Lady Alison,” he said.
“Lord Pemberton,” she greeted in return.
He was always so formal with her, still unable to refer to her as his daughter. And Alison, not wanting to appear desperate, called him by his title. Which itself only added to the distance she felt existing between herself and her family.
“Where have you been?” her mother asked as Lord Pemberton took his seat at the head of the table. “Breakfast is getting cold.”
“Are we heading into London after breakfast?” Nerissa asked. “As you said.”