Chapter 3
U nfortunately, temptation would have to wait.
Alfie had rather suspected it would. If Dominick had been some giggling countess fresh off the marriage market, no one would’ve said anything about them disappearing into Alfie’s bedchamber for a few hours in the middle of the afternoon. They might have thought things, yes, but they wouldn’t have said any of them. As it was however, men like them had to be irritatingly careful, even in their own homes.
But the need for discretion didn’t make what they had any less meaningful than any other marriage. From his experience, what he and Dominick shared put most of the marriages in England to shame. Certainly all those amongst the peerage.
He’d take Dominick over hundred countesses, giggles or not. He just couldn’t take him now . Supper first.
He rolled Dominick’s ring lazily around his finger, letting the lamplight catch the carving of the bird from every angle.
“...which is, of course, when the dratted beastie decided to show himself. I don’t know who shrieked louder, me or the mouse!”
Alfie chuckled at Gil’s tale. The man had a way with words and was an entertaining companion. It had been second nature to invite him to stay for supper when they’d run into him after their walk. He’d given a funny sort of smile at that, but graciously agreed. If Alfie was really his friend though, he should’ve warned the man to go home and spare himself the hardship that was one of Janie’s meals.
Before he had the opportunity to offer Gil a last chance to escape, Janie came into the dining room carrying three bowls on a platter. The rest of the long dining table stretched endlessly away, empty and bare as Janie made her cautious way to the end where the three men sat.
It might have been more discreet to sit Dominick halfway down the table, but Gil had dined with them enough that to change things now would only draw more suspicion. Besides, the man hadn’t noticed anything between them before, he certainly wouldn’t now that they were on their best behaviour.
“Your hand feeling better?” Dominick asked as Janie set a steaming bowl in front of him. He kept his face upturned to hers rather than examine the soup too closely. From past experience, that was probably wise.
“Yes, sir,” she said, “I hardly feel it at all. Mrs. Hirkins is a miracle worker.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” added Gil. “While you earned your injury in noble service, I would hate for you to be in any pain over it. Not that any burn would ever dare to mar such fair skin as yours for too long.”
Janie spilled a little of Alfie’s soup as she set down his bowl, her focus clearly elsewhere. An elsewhere featuring a certain gentleman with sable hair and golden spectacles and with no Alfie or soup anywhere nearby. At least, he hoped not.
“Oh. That is, thank you. Ifthatwillbeallsir.” Janie hurriedly served Gil his soup, flushing scarlet from her collar to her maid’s cap. Poor girl. Her infatuation with Gil was obvious, but with Gil’s reputation as a shameless charmer of women, Alfie might have to step in before they had a heartbreak on their hands. Or worse, another baby.
He was torn from that worry when Dominick suddenly dropped his spoon and clasped a hand over his mouth.
Alfie was beside him before he’d even realised he’d moved. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
An icy fist clenched his heart as he remembered another bowl of poison set in front of Dominick. They’d been fortunate that time, even if others hadn’t, but their luck couldn’t last forever.
“Bloody hell,” swore Dominick between his fingers. Then he grasped up the spoon again and went for another serving of the deadly poison.
“Nick!”
“No, Alfie, try it. It’s good .”
Alfie glanced back at his own bowl. Now that he looked at it, it certainly appeared appetising and Dominick seemed to be enjoying it, but the best he’d come to hope for from Janie’s kitchen was “passable”. Cautiously, he took a sip.
“Good God.”
“I know,” replied Dominick between mouthfuls.
A perfect broth, neither too thick nor watery, fragrant herbs, and pieces of vegetable and rabbit cut to just the right size to balance in a spoon.
“Perhaps Janie improved while we were away?” he offered.
“No,” said Gil with a wince. “She really didn’t. I mistook her last soup for the laundry water. I can’t imagine how she came up with this.”
By the time the woman of the hour returned, her tray now carrying plates of fish with mushrooms and some sort of wine sauce, their bowls were completely dry.
“Well done, lass,” Gil said, rising to unburden some of her load—or to get at his own plate all the faster. Janie looked as if she might faint with pleasure at the attention. “If this course is half as good as the last, then His Lordship here will be forced to never throw a dinner party again, lest the secret get out and you’re snatched up by a household with an even grander title.”
“My compliments on the soup as well, Janie,” Alfie said.
“Oh,” she said softly, not quite as radiant as a moment before. “I’m afraid I can’t take credit for that, sir.”
“Nonsense, it was delicious.”
“No, I mean, it wasn’t my soup. I was too scared to go near the pot after yesterday and then in comes Mrs. Hirkins, the older one, saying the younger one wanted time alone with the bairn. But I could see she was all nerves and happiness with nowhere to put them, so I asked if she knew how to make soup. I know I oughtn't have, she’s not employed here, she retired, but she didn’t seem to mind helping. Then I told her what I’d planned for the main, but she made this instead.”
God was in His Heaven, Mrs. Hirkins was back in Alfie’s kitchen, and all was right with the world.
“It’s quite fine, Janie. More than fine. Please allow her to help whenever she wishes.”
A more seasoned cook would bristle at allowing an interloper into her domain, but Janie just looked relieved.
“Thank you, I will. She’s got some cakes in the oven now, says it will be a bit until they’re done, but I’m to bring you them with cream and fresh blackberries.”
Alfie salivated at the very thought, but he tried to retain what little lordly poise he had.
“That will do very nicely, thank you.”
As soon as the door closed behind her, they descended on their plates like a pack of wolves. Wolves with silver cutlery, granted, but wolves nevertheless. When they were finished, Alfie leaned back in his chair with a pleased hum. Dominick hummed right back in agreement, dabbing the last of the wine sauce from his lips.
“I must thank you, gentlemen,” said Gil. “That is by far the best meal I’ve had in months.”
“And more to come,” said Dominick happily. “Mrs. Hirkins’ cakes. Alfie, why did you ever let that woman retire?”
It was a jest, but at the moment, Alfie was wondering the same thing. “She said she trained her granddaughter just as well. Once Agnes is up and about, we might have meals like this to look forward to every night.”
Transporting a pregnant girl and her elderly grandmother to Scotland to spare one of them from ruin and the other from a lonely life in a house where murder had been committed was hardly how Alfie planned on acquiring a cook to replace Janie, who was rightfully not even a kitchen maid but a housemaid. But here they were. It was possibly the second most brilliant idea of his life. The first being to follow that angry boxer into a dark alley.
He looked over at the boxer in question, but Dominick had his eyes fixed on the door, awaiting Janie’s return with barely-contained joy.
Gil cleared his throat. “While we’re on the subject of the Hirkins women, that is something I need to speak to you about. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but since you mention it now, there has been some confusion about their place in the household. Agnes in particular. You are aware that most maids are fired when they have a child, not hired? It has caused... some upset, shall I say, since her arrival.”
“That explains the farmer then,” said Dominick with a nod. “Didn’t hold with you bringing in some fallen woman. From the sinful pit of London too.”
Just as well the farmer didn’t know about Dominick being a former fallen man, or the depths of the pit from which he and Alfie had both emerged.
“A man in his cart gave me the cut direct today,” Alfie clarified for Gil. “Now we know why.”
As much as he didn’t want Agnes to be subjected to any further scandal, it was a relief to know word hadn’t spread about his relationship with Dominick.
Gil shifted in his seat. “Aye, that’s likely one reason, but we’ll get to that. Are you sure you want to go into it now? It can wait until morning.”
“Go ahead,” said Alfie. It was better to know the full extent of whatever mess he was in now rather than be up all night worrying about it.
He had other plans for tonight.
“Very well.” Gil removed his spectacles and began to polish the lenses with his napkin. “I say this to you not only as your overseer, but also your friend. The previous earl neglected his duties here for decades, left the house and lands to fall from their former glory, and ignored any but the most urgent letters about the estate. Your tenants suffered from his neglect. You have been here less than a year and even including your recent departure of several months, you’ve already approved more improvements than your father ever did. However, in that same year, there have been two runaway servants and three murders tied to the household.”
“Only two,” protested Dominick, as if that was significantly better.
“Three. They thought Jarrett committed one while you were gone.”
Alfie started. Gil could have mentioned that while they were waiting up the night before, rather than press him for the details of their trip. Apparently, it was yet another thing that could wait until after Alfie had finished catching up on his social correspondence.
He couldn’t help but ask. “Did he?”
“Oh no. Completely innocent. Well not—that is to say he had nothing to do with the crime. This crime, at least. But, well, it’s a long story. Suffice to say none of the common people still quite trust him, and I’m rather persona non grata with my family at the moment, so that’s the local gentry out.”
Alfie frowned, “If you’re not with your family, where are you staying?”
“Here,” said Gil plainly. “At least until your return. I should have mentioned it last night, but I didn’t care to walk to the inn in the dark. And I may also be persona non grata there as well . ”
Now Alfie understood the funny look Gil had given him when he invited him to their supper table. It seemed he was already quite familiar with it.
He looked over at Dominick. As entailed property, the house was solely Alfie’s and nothing could be done to change that, but it was as much Dominick’s home as his. His love nodded back immediately, as Alfie knew he would.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Gil,” Alfie said sincerely, even as he had to bite back a sigh. After all, it was an enormous manor, one more person wouldn’t make it that much harder for Dominick and him to find privacy.
“Thank you,” Gil said. He resettled the spectacles on his nose. “Truly, you don’t know how much that means to me. But back to the matter at hand. I think to solve your other issues, you should hire some more servants. A dozen should do the trick, but I’m open to more.”
“A dozen!” shouted Dominick.
“Surely that’s not necessary.” A dozen more sets of ears listening at doors and peeking through keyholes. He and Dominick would have to be a dozen times more cautious.
Gil looked between them. As an earl’s “cousin”, Dominick had no right to any say in Alfie’s affairs. Whereas as far as Alfie was concerned, Dominick had given him a ring. What was his was Dominick’s and Dominick’s was his. Reaching for his spectacles again, Gil stopped, spreading his hands on the table instead and addressing them both.
“I will ask plainly: how many months of the year do you intend to spend at Balcarres?”
“All of them,” Alfie replied immediately.
“Save travel,” Dominick added. “We’d like to do a bit of that at some point. But if you’re asking if either of us plans on haring back to London to set up shop, it’ll take more than one farmer’s ugly look to drive us off.”
Gil looked a bit taken aback. “Ah. Had I realised that, I could have spared myself several night’s worry.”
He brightened. “I am glad to hear it though. The Earls of Crawford have used Balcarres as the family seat for centuries. It’s only right that you’re back, but it does make the hiring of additional servants that much more important. Now that you’ve returned, Jarrett will be doing the work of valet and footman both, and errand boy as well, at least until Davey grows into a little more common sense. I admire you taking Agnes on, but even if she is able to take over her role as cook, someone will have to keep an eye on the bairn while she’s handling knives and such.”
“Why not just hire a nanny along with the rest?” Dominick asked.
Gil winced. “Hiring a nanny for a servant’s child would only fuel further speculation. At best, it might be seen as… eccentric. It is my experience that when a man is eccentric in some ways, it is best he not draw attention to himself by being eccentric in others. If you catch my meaning?”
Dominick nodded solemnly as if he understood what Gil wasn’t saying, but Alfie certainly didn’t. The way he said it, it almost sounded like he knew about what Alfie and Dominick were to each other. But that couldn’t be the case; he’d said “in my experience” and everyone knew Gil’s reputation as a notorious womaniser.
Still, Alfie nodded as well and if anything, that made Gil look even happier.
“Excellent! I’m so glad that’s all out in the open. Now, as far as hiring, the two men who accompanied the Hirkins women and your carriage from London claimed you’d offered them positions. Naturally, I wanted to wait for your return to confirm this. They’re working as ostlers at the inn for now. If you have offered them employment though, I suggest you keep that promise but fill the remainder of the positions with local people or their relatives, if possible, before broadening the net and hiring from the cities.
“For one, that would mean most of them wouldn’t be required to live in and could go home at night. No reason to disturb all the bats in eaves by shoving cots under them, eh? For another, it would foster goodwill amongst the community.”
Dominick interrupted. “I hate how this sounds, but does he really need their goodwill? He’s an earl.”
Gil ran his fingers over the tablecloth, visibly collecting himself before he spoke. “Need? No. But again, it is my experience that a place is far easier to live in when people like you than when they don’t.”
A look of such melancholy washed over him that Alfie was about to reach out, offer some sort of comfort, but Gil shook his head as if banishing the mood and when he looked up, his smile was as charming as ever.
“Will that plan suit you, my lord?”
“Yes, I suppose,” Alfie said, a bit taken aback by the abrupt change in Gil’s demeanour. “A dozen servants. Very well. It’s not like I can’t afford them.”
“Well, a dozen once we have everything straightened out,” replied Gil. “We’ll need at least twice that to get things set to rights in the first place. Roofers, cleaners, gardeners, the whole lot. Bless Mrs. Finley and Mr. Howe, but I don’t know how they’ve kept this place together for as long as they have.”
Alfie rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Gil, as my overseer, you have access to my various accounts, correct?”
“Aye.”
“And Dominick, he’s trusting you to manage his not-insubstantial fortune as well, correct?”
“Aye?”
“Then by God, if you’re intent on robbing me blind, why don’t you find an easier way to do it?”
Both Gil and Dominick laughed at that, and Alfie felt a tap against his shoe from Dominick’s side of the table, a sign of his approval Alfie always welcomed, except when confined to a carriage.
“Aye, I suppose you’re right. I should’ve just told you I’d invested in miniature tigers for your zoological garden and give you tabby mogs instead. That’d turn me a profit.”
“How about a moat large enough to sail,” Dominick added with a grin. “Only never specify what size boat.”
From there, the two of them descended into trading increasingly ludicrous ways Gil could pilfer the earldom’s funds. Alfie didn’t actually mind spending the money on more servants, and Balcarres had been allowed to fall into a sorry state. It was just that despite their wealth, his parents rarely had more than the smallest possible staff in London, including the lodestar that was Mrs. Hirkins. It was a lot to take in.
Around him, the hilarity ensued.
Dominick tapped his finger against his lips. “I think this house is lacking in hallways. Add some more secret passages.”
“I’ll have the mice alerted immediately,” Gil laughed. “Very cheap labour, mice. And good at tunnelling. I’ll make a fortune. Alas, that species tends to revolt if not properly supervised.”
“Which is where the miniature tigers come in!”
Gil was laughing so hard he had to remove his spectacles to wipe his face. “After that, would you prefer me to add an ornamental lake or a folly on the crag?”
Dominick suddenly stilled. “Could you really?”
“What?” Gil hiccupped out a laugh. “A lake that’s a puddle or a folly that’s a single rock? Aye, easily enough. But I’ll need more mice.”
Even Alfie had to snicker at that, but then he caught the look on Dominick’s face. Dominick had looked at him that same way when Alfie had first told him he loved him. As if the idea was so wonderful that he didn’t dare hope it was true.
Alfie’s jaw dropped. “You can’t seriously want one of those stone monstrosities?”
“The one in Bath was nice. I know I thoroughly enjoyed myself there.”
Alfie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. On a hill overlooking the city of Bath were the ruins of a castle gate, not crumbled from centuries of battle, but sham ruins built only a few decades ago for no other reason than to provide a more picturesque view from the window of some wealthy resident of the town. And yes, Dominick had enjoyed himself in the room built within the folly with the door that locked and stone walls thick enough that they could make as much noise as they wanted. He’d also thoroughly enjoyed Alfie there. At least twice.
The memory was fresh in his mind, not only because of the sheer novelty of it, but because it was the last time they’d had the opportunity to really take their time with each other in their long months of travels, something that weighed on him ever more as the conversation went on. If that many new people were skulking around Balcarres, would they ever truly be safe enough to be together?
They might, if only there was some sort of scenic destination they could claim to be venturing to, where no one would be surprised if they returned later than expected because they were so caught up in the view. A place on his estate where they were unlikely to be bothered. One with thick stone walls and a door that locked.
God damn it. It wasn’t a terrible idea. He could even envision a little stairwell running up to the top so they actually could take in the view.
“Gil, I don’t suppose you know of any architectural firms that could do that?”
The moment Alfie asked, Dominick grinned at him with such force that for a moment, Alfie was certain he was going to pull him over the table and kiss him, Gil be damned. Dominick winked instead, which was somehow worse, because now Alfie knew that kiss was coming eventually, but there was nothing he could do to make it happen now .
“I believe I have a few names that might suit,” Gil said, sounding amused. “Even some that could tackle the folly and rebuilding the gardens both if you’d like to keep things simple.”
As if anything in Alfie’s life was ever simple. “Perfect.”
On cue, Janie came through the doors, bearing thick slices of cake for each of them, still warm from the oven so the cream melted and slowly slid down each slice, dragging the tart berries along with it. From the smell alone, Alfie recognised it as cake Mrs. Hirkins only made a few times a year, so delicate it peeled away with the fork, but so rich he dreamed about it in the months between her baking it.
In the face of such a treat, it was hard not to be at least a little optimistic. Perhaps all the darkness and death was behind them now. Perhaps Gil was right and the way forward was to air out all the linens and throw open all the shutters. Let Balcarres House once again be the home to an earl it should be.
Perhaps then I’ll feel like the earl it should have.
He crushed the thought down. Now was not the time for his insecurities. They’d be making Balcarres theirs , leaving a mark that would last long after they were gone. It was a time to celebrate. And celebrate he would, now with cake and soon with Dominick.
He wasn’t sure which excited him more.