Chapter 11
Helen and Elijah stayed another hour, and it seemed to be a weekly ritual, the two of them coming to visit Mrs. Rawlings from their home nearby. I gathered from their conversation that Mrs. Rawlings and Helen’s mother had been sisters, though the latter had died a few years ago.
I watched them all with scientific interest as I sipped my tea—mother, son, and cousin.
They seemed to get along well enough, and there was an easy rapport between them.
But there was a distance, too, a shadow I could not quite put my finger on.
As if they danced about certain subjects that I, a stranger to their family, could not begin to comprehend.
I tried to avoid Mr. Rawlings’s eyes, not at all willing to risk reawakening that strange heat in my stomach.
“He likes you, you know,” Helen whispered, sitting beside me.
I nearly spat out my tea and resorted to choking instead. “Pardon?” I managed.
“Elijah.” She nodded to where Mrs. Rawlings sat beside the boy, reading him a story. “Though you should not be too flattered, I suppose, since he likes nearly everyone. But at least you are not in the select few he dislikes.”
I gave a nervous chuckle and set down my teacup. “He is a darling child.”
Helen observed me. “You were very good with him. Have you a great many younger brothers and sisters?”
“None at all,” I admitted. “I am an only child, and all my cousins are much older than I. But I’ve always wished—” I stopped myself, swallowing tightly. “That is, I’ve always liked children. Thank you for letting me play with him today.”
“Of course.” Helen touched my hand as if she knew there was more I was not saying. She looked over at Mrs. Rawlings, then back to me. She sat up straight. “Miss Albright, you must come to the assembly on Friday night.”
“Assembly?” I repeated as if I’d never heard the word before.
“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “Everyone of importance in Camberwell will attend, and it will be the perfect opportunity to introduce you to local society.”
“Why should she need to go if I am not attending?” Mrs. Rawlings asked shortly. “She is my companion, you’ll recall.”
“Oh, do not be so dour, Aunt,” Helen said playfully, and she might have been the only one who could call Mrs. Rawlings dour and not be boxed about the ears. “Miss Albright will need some friends if she is to stay here. She is young. You cannot think to lock her away in Briarstone.”
I almost laughed. She did not know how close she was to the truth.
“Alexander, you must come with us,” Helen went on, turning to Mr. Rawlings. “The matchmaking mamas have been bereft in your absence. Do make an exception and let them parade their pretty daughters in front of you.”
“I doubt they’ve noticed my absence at all,” he said distractedly as he looked out the window. “Surely there are other eligible gentlemen they can focus their attentions on.”
“None so eligible as you, as I think you are quite aware.” Helen set her teacup down.
Mr. Rawlings exhaled heavily. “I have far better things to do with my time than dance with lasses I have no intention of courting.”
“Well, if you will not come, Miss Albright and I shall go together.” Helen determinedly linked our arms.
Mr. Rawlings’s eyes flashed to mine, and I could read his thoughts in a thrice. He would, under no account, be allowing me out of the house without him.
“Miss Albright has other responsibilities,” he replied shortly.
“Come now,” Helen protested. “She should not be deprived of a ball simply because neither of you has any desire to attend. And perhaps we might find some of these other eligible gentlemen for Miss Albright to dance with.”
Mr. Rawlings’s features tightened, and for a split second, I wondered if it was the thought of me dancing with another man.
But that was ridiculous. Clearly, it was because of the case, of the danger in allowing me into such a public setting.
And he was right, though I hated to admit it.
As much as I wanted to attend the assembly, it would draw too much attention to myself.
“Perhaps it is too soon,” I said to Helen, disappointment settling into my boots. “I’ve only just arrived. There will be other opportunities, I am sure.”
Helen was too perceptive. She had not missed my unspoken exchange with Mr. Rawlings, and her lips pressed into a slanted line.
“Thank you for the invitation though,” I hurried to say. “That was very kind of you.”
She nodded. “Perhaps next time.”
Little did she know there would be no next time if everything went according to plan. I had no intention of remaining at Briarstone even a second longer than necessary.
Helen and Elijah took their leave a few minutes later, and I sighed as his small body skipped out of sight. Their visit had been a welcome distraction, and the quiet that immediately descended was tense and thick.
Mr. Rawlings stood. “I’ve correspondence to catch up on,” he said, not looking at me. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He strode to the door and out into the corridor.
My stomach dropped. Oh, not him too.
Mrs. Rawlings sat silently across from me. She met my gaze steadily, posture perfectly straight.
Heavens, I couldn’t do this for another minute, let alone several more hours. I jumped to my feet. “Pardon me.” I did not allow her the chance to protest, not that I thought she would. No doubt she needed a reprieve as much as I did.
I left the room and spotted Mr. Rawlings just ahead, striding purposefully away. I hurried after him as he reached the entryway.
“Mr. Rawlings,” I hissed in a low voice.
He turned, looking not at all surprised to see me bearing down on him.
“You can’t truly mean to leave me alone with your mother again,” I demanded.
“You are her companion,” he replied with a hint of acerbic humor. “I daresay it is part of the job.”
“Amusing, to be sure.” I crossed my arms. “She likes mold growing on her bread more than she likes me.”
His lips did not so much as twitch at my joke. Did this man ever laugh—or even smile?
“What do you suggest I do?” he asked. “We have to keep up the pretense, else the servants will suspect.”
I considered as I glanced around the entry hall. “Offer me a tour,” I said. “Of the estate. I need to know my way around, do I not?”
“A tour?” he repeated flatly.
“Yes.” I raised my chin. “You’ve brought me here. The least you can do is show me around.”
“I was not lying when I said I have correspondence I need to see to,” he said. “I still have work.”
“Very well, then.” I leaned closer so only he could hear. “I shall show myself around. If I should happen to wander off and am found by the murderer on our trail, then that is something you shall have to live with.” I turned on my heel and started off toward the back of the house.
He groaned deeply as his footsteps came after me. “You enjoy irking me, don’t you?”
“I have little else to amuse me.” I turned to walk backward a few steps, facing him. “You’ve taken me from my entertainments in London, so I have to make do here.”
Mr. Rawlings only shook his head, clasping his hands behind his back.
“It is a pleasant day,” I said. “Should we begin with the grounds?”
He sighed heavily. “By all means.”
He led me through the house until we reached the back door, with steps leading down to a wide lawn.
The house was perched on a low, meandering hill that slanted down toward a lake just distant.
The trees and surrounding thickets were slowly changing colors, reds and oranges and yellows peeping through the browns and green.
It was beautiful and made me miss home just a little. Mother always did love autumn.
“A lovely prospect, to be sure,” I said.
“Aye,” he agreed.
Just beyond the lawn grew dozens of aspen trees, planted in an orderly procession among the wilder trees and brushes. I shaded my eyes. “What is over there?”
“The water garden.” He spoke shortly, as if the quicker he answered all my questions, the sooner he could return to work. Unfortunately for him, I had little intention of letting him abandon me anytime soon.
“Perfect,” I said. “We’ll start there.” I started forward, and he matched my pace.
Even though it was October, the sun shone brightly, warming my back. Escaping the awkwardness of the morning room felt so very refreshing, and I exhaled, lifting my face to the breeze.
“I like Helen very much,” I said. “I suppose I should call her Mrs. Millard though.”
“She would not mind such a breach in propriety, I assure you.” Mr. Rawlings walked beside me, his deep voice a strange contrast to the gentle brush of the wind in the trees.
I shot him a sidelong glance. “Do you have other family here besides?”
“No,” he said. “Helen is my only cousin, and her parents died years ago.”
“I see.” I touched the leaves of a rosebush as we passed. “You seem close.”
“We were.” His voice grew a bit gruff. “As children, we were more like brother and sister.”
“But no longer?” I asked curiously.
“Circumstances drew us apart.”
Were these the same circumstances that had sent him to Scotland? I imagined if I posed that question, he would close himself off again. Better to stick to more innocent topics. “Elijah is a handful,” I offered.
His expression softened by the smallest degree. Ah. Elijah was his weakness, though I should have realized earlier. “He is quite like I was growing up,” he said, a barely discernible pride in his voice.
“You?” I laughed. “No, I cannot imagine it. You were born with a scowl and a command on your lips.”
“I do not scowl,” he said with a scowl.
“Oh, to have a mirror.” I grinned up at him.
He crossed his arms. “Is it so terrible to have a serious disposition?”
“Of course not,” I said. “Who would I tease if we were both cheerful and idealistic?”