Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Alison was just about to make her way upstairs and to bed when she heard voices.
Still in the drawing room, watching the final embers of the candles burn down to a nub as she tried desperately to fight back her depressed feelings of loneliness, the voices were distant and muffled and coming from somewhere inside the house.
She sat herself up, eyes widening in surprise. “What is that…” she said as she looked about, cocking her head, wondering if the wind from outside was playing tricks on her.
But the longer she listened the clearer those voices became.
“Mother?” She was more tired than she realized, which might have explained her thinking that the voices belonged to her family. “Felix? Is that you?”
Holding Pickle under one arm and a candle in the other hand, she wandered from the drawing room and down the hall, following the voices toward the sitting room on the lower level of the manor.
When she reached the room, she saw that it was empty, but surprisingly, she was still able to hear the voices.
That was when she understood what was happening.
Oh no… oh no… oh no…
The voices were coming from outside the house. She gasped and took a step into the room, making for the main window, beyond which she could now hear those voices clearly. But she kept to the edges of the room, creeping carefully because she dared not make a noise.
“… I’m tell ya, I seen a candle burnin’ inside.”
“Impossible.”
“You callin’ me a liar?”
“I call you a lot of things. A liar is likely one of the nicer words I can think of.”
Alison’s body was shaking as she reached the edges of the window. It was dark outside, too dark to make anything out clearly, but through that darkness she could have sworn she saw the outlines of two bodies standing before the window.
“I seen it! Someone is home.”
“And how can that be? You was the one tellin’ me the place would be empty. Said they were gone as of today, you did.”
“I said no such thing!”
“You did, you was sayin’ –”
“I said what I was told! And I was told the place would be empty.”
“Maybe they just left a few candles burnin’? Forgot to put ‘em out, you know? I be doin’ that sometimes.”
“Yeah, but that’s cause you’re an idiot.”
“I’m just sayin’, how we meant to be breakin’ in if somebody is home? You said it would be empty. You said it would be the easiest steal we ever did.”
Alison stood frozen as she stared at the darkened figures through the window. All her excitement at being left alone, all her efforts to try and see the positive in the situation, and any bravery she might have felt were dashed in an instant.
Suddenly, being left behind didn’t sound nearly so good.
And that was when Pickle started to bark.
“Pickle!” Alison hissed at her dog. “Quiet!”
“What was that?” one of the voices outside said.
“Sounded like your stomach. When you eat last?”
“It weren’t my stomach you nonce. It was a dog! I heard a dog barking inside.”
“First, he sees a fire, next he sees a dog. I’m thinking you ain’t wantin’ to do this.”
“I did! I did!”
Alison’s first thought was to run. But she forced that idea down, figuring that perhaps this was not what she expected. How could it be? What were the chances that on the day her family left, two men just happened to come to her home with the intent of stealing from it?
It must be a misunderstanding. Surely…
Alison steeled herself as she stepped toward the window. And then, with a deep breath, she called out. “Is someone there?”
The darkened figures froze when they heard her.
“What was that?” one of them said.
“The wind, maybe?”
“It weren’t the wind! Someone is inside!”
“I…” Her breath caught. “There are many someone’s inside!” she cried out. “A whole family of them, in fact! Now, please, go away. Or I will be forced to call my father!”
Despite herself, Alison smiled, certain that had done the job. Her heart was racing, her body was trembling, but she was rather proud of how brave she had been.
“She’s lyin’,” a voice said. “She has to be.”
“Didn’t that lord leave? We saw him go.”
“Which means that she’s alone.” Laughter bubbled up next. “Is that right, missy?” a gravely voice called through the window. “You ain’t lyin’ to us, are you?”
Alison gasped and Pickle started to bark again. So loud were his yaps that Alison wouldn’t have been surprised if Lord Grayhill next door could hear them.
Lord Grayhill!
Her eyes widened as his name came to mind.
Perhaps the last person she wanted to be thinking about, ever, while also the only person she could think of who might be able to help her.
And though she could not say for sure who these men were, she was quite certain that help was something she desperately needed.
For that reason, she held a hand over Pickle’s mouth as she slowly backed-up, all the while listening to the two men bicker between one another. They didn’t seem to notice her, at least, but that might soon change.
Once she was free from the room, she darted through the hallways and toward the rear of the manor. There, she ducked through the servant’s door, which led around the side of the estate.
“Oh, God…” she gasped as the cold hit her. She was still wearing Felix’s coat, but under that was just her chemise, and without shoes on or gloves or a scarf she started to wonder if she might freeze to death before reaching the Earl’s home.
Maybe it would have been safer to take my chances with those two would-be thieves.
She winced and yelped as she hurried through the snow, still holding Pickle close, staying low in case those men saw her.
Thankfully, she soon stumbled onto Grayhill Estate, where she scurried toward the drive and then raced for the front door.
The Earl’s manor was bigger than Lord Pemberton’s, almost twice the size and far more opulent in design.
The front doors were a gigantic structure of white-painted wood inlaid with gold, standing several feet taller than Alison.
She stumbled up the steps and nearly tripped onto her face before lurching out and hammering on the door with all her might.
And then she waited.
Her body was shaking from the cold and the fear both. Her fingers and toes were numb. Her nose stung and her teeth chattered. And even though her mind was fixed on the obvious danger, she took a moment to consider how much of a fright she surely looked.
But then she heard the door unlocking from the other side and that thought left her. Now was not the time for such things.
“Yes?” the door opened barely an inch, and the voice which spoke did so through the small gap.
“Please, you must let me in,” Alison said while giving a quick glance over her shoulder as if she was being watched. “Hurry.”
“We do not want any…”
“What?” she started.
“Whatever it is you are selling. We do not want any, thank you.”
Alison blinked in shock. “I… I am not selling anything. Please, you must let me in! There are –”
“This is not a shelter,” the voice cut her off. “And I will ask you to remove yourself from the property at once.” The door started to close.
“Wait!” Alison shoved her bare foot through the gap. “Please, you must let me in! There are people outside my home.”
“As there are people outside this home,” the voice said, starting to sound annoyed. “People who, if they do not remove themselves, will force me to take action. I will send into town for the Justice of the Peace if you do not leave here at once.”
“What? No! Please, let me in!” Alison was starting to panic. “You don’t understand, there are people outside my home!”
“Godfrey!” a second voice spoke from the behind the doorway, one that Alison recognized immediately. “What is going on?”
“Nothing to concern yourself with, my lord, just a beggar who is being rather –”
“I am not a beggar!” Alison cried. “My name is Lady Alison Collins and if you do not let me inside you are the one who will have a problem!”
The effect was immediate. No sooner had Alison said her name than the door swung open to reveal on the other side a man who Alison guessed to be a butler of some kind. But she hardly glanced at him as she pushed past and stumbled through the door into the blessed warmth of the manor.
“Oh, thank God!” Her feet, which was still numb with cold tripped and she nearly fell, only to be caught by Lord Grayhill himself.
His hands were strong around her waist and the moment that he had her, Alison felt for the first time since she fled her home a sense of safety and protection.
She did not try and pull away. She did not lurch back or cry out.
Rather, with Pickle tucked in one arm, she wrapped the other around him, needing the safety he provided like nothing else.
“Lady Alison,” Lord Grayhill began. “What is going –”
“Someone is outside my home!” she cried, looking up and finding Lord Grayhill’s eyes. “Please! You must help me.”
The last time Alison had been this close to Lord Grayhill, she had been overcome with both hostility and frustration.
Whenever she and Lord Grayhill spoke or were alone, they traded barbs and insults.
Mockery flitted through their conversations and there was an underlying current of tension which suggested that neither liked one another very much.
This time, Lord Grayhill looked down at her with apparent concern and worry.
His brow was furrowed, his expression was hard, and his grip was strong around her.
She had been shaking before. She had been panicking.
But she felt it melt away because in the moment it seemed to her that nothing could harm her…
“Someone is outside your home?” he asked warily. “Who?”
“I do not know!” she cried. “But I heard them clearly. And they were speaking as if they meant to break in.”
“I was under the impression that you had left earlier today?” he asked. “Did your family not travel north? Why are you not with them?”
“What? That does not matter!” Her panic rose again. “Please, someone is out there! I know they are.”
“If that is the case, we best scare them off.” Lord Grayhill acted quickly, helping her to find her feet and then taking her hand. “Come with me.” He started to lead her across the foyer.
“What? Wait!” She pulled her hand free. “What are you doing?”
He turned back, confusion written across his face. “I am taking you someplace to warm yourself. You must be freezing.”
She balked. “What? No, that is not – did you not hear what I said? There were two men outside my home. And they sounded as if –”
“I heard you well enough,” he spoke over her with calm.
“And they will be dealt with shortly. But what concerns me of the moment is not your home, or what might be stolen if given the chance. But that of your wellbeing.” He raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to argue.
“Now, please, if you will allow me to do so, I will see you someplace warm.”
Alison stared at the Earl in shock and confusion. Never mind that he was treating her with such kindness and in ways that he never had before, but that he was so concerned about her health and her comfort. That he cared about her.
“But my home…” she said weakly, the initial force behind her objections fading quickly.
“Will be there in five minutes,” he said. “But as I explained, it is you who my concern is currently focused on.”
She did not know what to say. There was that part of her that felt the need to argue further, as that’s how it always was where the Earl was concerned. But Alison could not bring herself to do it, knowing that anything she said would be childish and petty.
“Y – yes,” she stammered. “Thank you.”
At this moment, Pickle yapped as if in agreement, a further confirmation that she was doing the right thing.
Lord Grayhill looked at her for a moment as if he expected her to push back on him again. When he saw that she would not, he nodded once and indicated for her to follow.
He led her through the manor and to the drawing room where a fire was already roaring. There, he directed her to the couch by the fire, at which point Godfrey rushed into the room with a blanket.
“This should do for now…” Lord Grayhill snatched the blanket from Godrey, knelt beside her, and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. Alison had not realized how cold she was until it was on her, and she started to shake.
“Thank you,” she said again, feeling embarrassed at how aggressive she had been before. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you will do for now.” His eyes searched her, and she looked away, not used to being watched so closely as that. To being seen. “Now…” Then he rose, “let us see about this so-called robbery.”
It was only then that Alison noticed something else about the Earl.
Something… odd. He was wearing a bathrobe only, tied at the waist but providing little real cover.
His hair was wet, his skin glistened, and his bare chest was revealed.
She glimpsed that same muscular physique she had seen only a few days ago.
Despite her coldness, a warmth rippled up Alison’s body…
“Wa – wait!” she stammered as he strode across the room. “You’re leaving me?”
“I am.” He reached the doorway and turned back. “Is that a problem?”
It should not have been. Had Alison not come here for help? Did she not expect the Earl to rush to her estate and scare away the two men she had seen? Only now that he was about to leave, she felt suddenly… alone. Even scared, because she was safe with him like she had not known was possible.
“No,” she forced herself to say. “Just… just come back soon…”
The Earl looked confused by the comment, likely surprised that she was not arguing with him for a change. And where it might have been her imagination, she could have sworn that she saw a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.
“Godrey,” he turned to the valet. “Keep an eye on Lady Alison.” His eyes flicked over her, and she pulled her blanket tight with embarrassment. “Perhaps a bath and some food, if she requires it.”
“You are going outside now?” Godfrey asked. “In this weather? Dressed in that?”
Lord Grayhill shrugged. “Little point doing it after the manor is robbed. Do not fear, I will be right back.” He nodded once at Godfrey, looked at Alison to ensure that she was fine, and then strode from the room without delay.
Alison gaped after him, still struggling to fathom all that had happened.
She had been left behind. Her home was quite possibly being broken into and burgled.
But none of those things captured her concern or attention.
She thought only of Lord Grayhill, how quick he was to help her, how fearless he was acting, and how safe she suddenly felt knowing that he was there for her.
It was the strangest thing, but Alison wondered now if she had misjudged the Earl. By all accounts he was not at all what she had thought. Not even close.