Chapter 14
Diamonds and declarations on the road to Little Valentine.
Miss Isabelle Honeywell walked beside her father as they made their way down to The Mermaid.
She held tight to his arm for security, finding the cobbles still slippery underfoot.
Ahead of them the sea glittered blue in the morning sun, though dark clouds gathered in the west, promising storms to come.
Izzy hoped the bad weather would hold off until this evening so they could enjoy a bit of sunshine.
The reverend wanted to invite the less privileged children of the town to tea at the church hall, with lots of cakes and biscuits, where they would receive a sturdy new pair of boots and a winter coat.
The Venturesome Ladies had already raised funds enough via donations from their members, and now they needed to arrange a time and menu with Mrs Fairway, what with Anne still being away on her honeymoon.
It always took an age for them to get through the town, with everyone wishing to speak to the reverend, to ask his advice or just pass the time of day.
Not that Izzy minded usually, but she was feeling a little out of sorts.
It was only natural, obviously. Her life had transformed in the past year, with both her sisters marrying and leaving home.
They wrote often, funny and interesting letters that gave her a glimpse into lives that were full and happy, and yet, as pleased as she was for them, she could not help but feel just a little envious.
It must be wonderful to fall in love and start a new life.
Not that Izzy particularly wanted to fall in love. Not that. Not yet. But she wanted something to happen to her too. Something exciting. Something out of the ordinary. Nothing ever did, though.
Except for him.
Izzy’s heart did an odd little leap behind her ribs as it always did when she thought of Boreas.
The moments she had spent alone in his company felt like a dark secret, hidden deep within her.
His image disturbed her, his low, sensual voice whispered wicked things in her ear during the loneliest hours of the night when she could not sleep.
Though she knew it was wrong and reckless and utterly stupid, she longed to see him again.
That tomorrow was the twenty-first of the month did not help matters.
She was so afraid for him, so terrified of the dreadful risk he took. Even her father had seemed alarmed when she had given him the message. Yet there was nothing either of them could do.
Izzy knew she would not sleep tomorrow night, nor any that followed, not until she knew he was safe.
“Ah, Miss Brown. How do you do?”
Izzy looked up, returning to the present as her father greeted a young lady who had just emerged from the baker’s. A pretty, plump woman with blonde curls escaping her bonnet, she had a basket over her arm, and the scent of fresh baked bread drifted from inside.
“Good day to you, Reverend. Not so bad, and how are you, sir?”
“Well, very well, I thank you. And how is Miss Marwick? I was sorry to hear that she was feeling under the weather. I was thinking of calling upon her today. Is she up to it, do you think?”
The woman, who Izzy now recognised as Alice Marwick’s housekeeper, Lill, flushed and looked a trifle ill at ease. She grasped her basket a little tighter, frowning down at the loaf of bread.
“Oh. I’m sure she will be soon, sir, but… but perhaps not today.”
Papa nodded sadly, and Izzy watched him with interest, noting a glint in his eyes that made her believe he was up to something, or that he knew something she did not.
As he continued to ask questions, Izzy’s certainty increased, for her father was not one for idle gossip.
“And Mr Marwick? I believe he has made a new friend in town. Aubrey Seymour? A fine fellow. I like him very much. Perhaps he will be a good influence on young Alfred and drag him to church now and then?”
He laughed at the Lill’s shocked expression and shrugged amiably as she looked increasingly uncertain.
“You know you can’t blow your nose in a place like this without half the town remarking on the quality of the embroidery.”
“Oh, I—I wouldn’t know, sir. Mr Marwick is a law unto himself. If you’ll excuse me. I’ve things to do.”
“Certainly, certainly. But if you ever have need of me—you or Miss Marwick, or her brother—please know you can call upon me. I am the soul of discretion. Don’t forget now,” he advised, giving her the benefit of his toothy grin before she hurried away.
“What do you know?” Izzy demanded once they were alone, narrowing her eyes at her father.
“Who? Me? Why, nothing at all, child. I cannot think what you mean,” he replied, a touch indignantly, and carried on towards the hotel, leaving her to follow him.
Tunbridge Wells, Kent, 20th January 1816
The coach swayed, rain drumming on the roof and joining with the rumble of the wheels and the clatter of hooves, a sound so monotonous that Alice knew she’d hear it long after she got out of the carriage.
Outside, daylight was fading, dusk settling over the sodden countryside, though there were still several hours of travelling to endure.
Alice could not wait to get home, but she worried for Aubrey.
“Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer to stop overnight? I have Alfie’s clothes, so there’s no risk to my reputation. I could change easily enough.”
She watched as Aubrey turned away from the window.
It had been a long and exhausting day, and they’d been travelling for hours, though Alice had slept through much of it.
Aubrey had clearly spent that time thinking, though, probably worrying about his cousin and how his family would react to meeting her, and he looked rather tired.
He had lit the carriage lamps, anticipating the coming darkness, and his face was a tableau of warm skin and weary shadows.
Though she would much rather carry on with their journey, she had caused him enough trouble already.
He smiled, his head resting against the squabs as he shifted to look at her. “No. I’d rather get back. Poor Lill will worry herself frantic if we don’t appear and explain everything.”
She smiled, touched that he put Lill’s feelings over his own tiredness.
It might seem an obvious thing, but she knew it would never occur to most men of his ilk to think of others, let alone to put them first. He was an unusual man, open and willing to learn, to do his best to understand those around him, even if their experiences were far outside of anything he lived himself.
Shifting closer, she laid her head on his shoulder.
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, making her feel cherished in a way she had never believed possible for her. “You remember what we decided?”
Alice glanced up at him and smiled. They had agreed to keep it as simple as possible.
Aubrey had been tempted to add a good deal of extra information but Alice, well versed in deception, had explained that it would only make people suspicious.
“Alfie is my brother. He’s an excellent fellow but has been in a few scrapes.
Though he knew it was wrong, he assisted in the robbery of the diamonds. ”
Aubrey nodded. “And his payment was the brooch, which he gave to you.”
Reaching out, Alice smoothed down his lapel, creased from where she had slept against his chest. “And when I discovered the brooch he’d given me belonged to your mother, I was distraught. Realising I was sweet on you, he decided to get the rest of the diamonds back, to make things right.”
Aubrey nodded approvingly, reaching for her gloved hand and holding it between both of his. “And when you discovered what he meant to do, you got frightened, especially as an old acquaintance of Alfie’s wrote to say Silas Mourney was after them too.”
“So I went after him, dressed as a footman, and helped him get out of the house by wearing the diamonds and diverting attention—with yours and the duke’s help, of course.”
“Just so.”
Alice sighed, frowning as the now familiar landscape seemed to welcome her home. How strange, and yet how lovely, to feel as if she truly had a place to call home. She snuggled closer to Aubrey, relishing his warmth as the cold had seeped into her bones hours ago.
“Do you think anyone will believe it?” he asked, an anxious note behind the words.
“Certainly. It’s close enough to the truth.
” She wished she could believe all their troubles were behind them.
She kept her worries to herself for now—Aubrey had endured enough in recent days, and she was reluctant to burden him further.
Yet so long as Silas Mourney remained at large, she would never be safe.
There was the possibility that Tommy and his accomplice had already confessed everything, and perhaps Silas had even been apprehended.
Honour among thieves was a rare commodity.
If it served their interests—or if they faced the gallows themselves—Tommy and his confederate would have no qualms about implicating Silas as well.
The thought sent a chill through her, and she realised she did not need to think too hard about giving up this way of life as Aubrey had asked her to do.
Though it had been a precarious living, there had been exhilaration in pitting her wits against locks and the law and she had expected to feel at least a little sorry that part of her life was over.
Hearing Tommy Greaves speak of the delight he’d take in seeing Alfie hang had given her a jolt though, had made her realise how close she had come.
She did not want to hang, did not want to risk her future again.
“Alice?”
She looked up, discovering Aubrey’s green eyes solemn in the dim light of the carriage. “We still have so much to discuss, love, and I know you’re tired, but there are things I need to say.”
Alice stiffened, the cold in her bones suddenly turning to ice as all her old doubts rose to the surface. “Oh?”