Chapter 8
A lfie wasn’t entirely certain what babies required to be happy, but being held against Dominick’s chest while the man whispered sweet nothings seemed to do the trick.
He understood completely.
“Lovely little thing, isn’t he?” Dominick asked, propping James up a little higher so the babe’s head rested on his shoulder. “At least when he’s not screaming the walls down.”
“An activity which does fill much of his day,” replied Alfie, trying not to be jealous of an infant.
Despite his initial protests, Dominick handled the child well. Cradling him protectively as they made their way down the front steps, one large hand holding his head as Dominick took every step with care. James had quieted almost instantly, emitting only the occasional coo as they walked.
Alfie swallowed around the hard lump in his throat. In another life, Dominick could have passel of children if he wanted. Still could in this life, if it wasn’t for Alfie.
“Did you ever want children?” he asked. He hadn’t meant to, but now that the question was out, it couldn’t be withdrawn.
Dominick gave him a flat look as if he knew exactly what Alfie had been thinking. “Don’t be daft.”
“You could though,” Alfie said, unable to resist poking the bruise. “You—that is, you’ve said before that you, ah, enjoy women as well.”
The last part he said in a hushed whisper, mindful of both their circumstances and tiny ears hearing things they shouldn’t.
Dominick gasped theatrically. “My God, do I? Then there’s no time to waste! Tell Graham to saddle a horse! I’m needed in the village!”
“Be serious.”
“Oh, I am,” replied Dominick. “I’ll have to go to the village. None of the women at Balcarres will have me, they’ve too high standards. Do you think I should alert the minister on the way in so the first banns can be read, or just start fucking anything in skirts and deal with the formalities later?”
“Language!” Alfie hissed, fighting the urge to cover James’ ears.
Dominick rolled his eyes. “That’s what you’re worried about? I’m sure with Mrs. Hirkins as his great-grandmother he’s heard far worse just today.”
Alfie felt ridiculous. Not just for chastising Dominick about swearing in front of a child far too young to understand, but for his moment of insecurity. He’d never questioned Dominick’s love for him. And he hoped he’d never given Dominick reason to question his in return. To think Dominick would throw him over after five minutes of holding a baby was just that—ridiculous.
“I’m being an arse, aren’t I?”
“Language,” Dominick grinned. “And you are, but no more than usual. I’m used to it by now though, so I suppose I’ll keep you.”
“You’d better,” Alfie said, but couldn’t stop the last little doubt from seeping out. “But still, you’re all right with it? It’s not as if I’ll ever be able to give you a family.”
Dominick’s grin turned wicked. “I don’t know, perhaps we just haven’t been trying hard enough.”
Alfie’s response to that was cut off as they turned at the corner of the house to find Janie kneeling on the ground. She started when she saw them.
“Oh, sirs, I’m sorry! I’m not going out, I swear, I just had a moment to myself and well, I am out, but I wasn’t going out. Just out here, sirs.”
“Of course. I quite understand,” said Alfie to spare them from further explanation. “It is a lovely evening for it. Just needed some fresh air as well?”
“Oh no, sir. Milk.”
As if he recognised the word, James began to stir, only to be hushed by Dominick. Janie looked at him quizzically, but had sense enough not to ask why they were playing nursemaid to the cook’s child. It was just as well, as Alfie wasn’t sure he had an answer to give her.
“Aye, sir,” she said slowly. “Bread and milk. Not for myself, that is. But the broonies.”
At some point, Alfie’s life had made sense, he was sure of it. Just because he couldn’t remember such a time now didn’t mean it hadn’t existed.
Dominick frowned. “Broonies?”
“Aye, the guid folk.” At their blank expressions, Janie continued, speaking very slowly, as if she was surprised they had survived so long with only their current amount of wits. “Spirits that come out at night and cause mischief, making trinkets disappear or tangling horses’ manes, that sort of thing. But they like milk and bread, so if you leave a bit out for them, they’ll do good mischief instead, like returning lost items or getting hens to lay. I heard Mrs. McConnell say she was going to plant lilies, so we’ll have something in bloom come spring. If you ask me, the ground is too damp for them. She’d be better off with bell heather. So I’m hoping a bit of milk and bread will get the broonies to keep her lily bulbs from rotting in the earth.”
Alfie looked down and sure enough, at Janie’s feet sat a small saucer of milk with a roll of fresh dark bread steaming on the doorstep beside it.
“There’s more of them about than usual.” She held out an empty saucer. “Before they took only sips and barely touched the bread, but lately they’ve both been gone each morning.”
“Well,” Alfie tried. He was rarely at a loss for words, but Janie seemed to be expecting some sort of a reply. “Thank you for looking after the household, Janie. Now you’d better be off. I’m sure Mrs. Finley is looking for you.”
She bobbed a quick curtsey, then made her way back through the side door, leaving Alfie and Dominick staring down at the saucer.
“I thought the barn cats looked fatter,” Dominick said at last.
Alfie shrugged. “If she’s willing to steal from a Hirkins’ kitchen, she’s braver than me. I don’t suppose there’s any harm in it?”
“I can’t think of any. Besides, we’re trying to get you on better terms with the locals, why not the local spirits as well?”
Alfie snorted. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps the broonies will work some good mischief on my leg while they’re at it. I’m feeling well enough at the moment though, shall we walk down to the main road while we have the time?”
To his surprise, Dominick shuddered. “How about a bit of the path to the chapel and back instead. Found some things on the gateposts this morning. You were busy all day, so I haven’t had a chance to tell you.”
As they made their way down the forested path, Dominick explained his grisly findings of that morning.
Alfie shuddered, glad the sun was only beginning to settle over the horizon and he didn’t have to hear about anything so awful in the dark. He looked at James to make sure he wasn’t disturbed by the tale, but he was curled up under Dominick’s chin, his little pink mouth open in sleep, and drooling on Dominick’s coat.
“What do you think it means?” Alfie asked.
Dominick shrugged. “I was hoping you might know. Just a prank, I’m hoping. Or poachers.”
“But knowing our luck…” Alfie trailed off. He slowed to a stop, the forest ahead suddenly looking far less inviting.
Knowing their luck, someone had seen something they shouldn’t and this was a silent threat. Hopefully, it wouldn’t go any further. But again, knowing their luck…
“We’ve been discreet,” he said at last. “Certainly more than we were before.”
Maddeningly so sometimes. It wasn’t fair that his own valet was apparently allowed to get his hands all over his overseer whenever he wanted and Alfie couldn’t do the same to Dominick. Yes, Alfie clearly valued his life more than Jarrett did, but still.
“Not discreet enough, it seems,” Dominick said, rubbing soothing circles on James’ back. His thoughts seemed to be following similar lines to Alfie’s. “What’s the bloo-blasted point in being an earl if you can’t do what you want with who you want?”
“Being able to hire the best barristers if you’re caught?”
“Mm, let's try not to let things get to that point.”
Alfie thought of Dominick’s description of the bloody sheep heads and felt a shiver of fear and revulsion. “If they haven’t already.”
“Maybe it was the broonies?” Dominick offered.
Alfie smiled at the joke, thin as it was, but happy to let the conversation stray to less dangerous grounds. “If these broonies are capable of doing something like that , I see why Janie wants to stay on their good side.”
“If they’re that strong though, I’d rather they be put to work on something more important than Mrs. McConnell’s lilies.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” said Alfie. “I’d like to remain in her good graces, considering the circumstances. I certainly don’t want to risk my chance of having ‘the most beautiful in the county if not nation’ now that the opportunity has presented itself.”
“And we’ve already seen what damage a vengeful woman with a love of plants can cause,” Dominick added. “All right, if the broonies want to protect her garden, I’ll leave them to it.”
The wind chose that moment to rustle through the leaves in agreement, and Alfie could almost swear he heard the snap of a branch somewhere nearby. He shook off the image of swarms of mischievous spirits listening in from the trees and waiting for darkness to fall before descending upon Balcarres.
He fought down a shudder. “Perhaps we should turn back. I’m sure it’s nearly time for supper.”
Dominick nodded, hoisting James up a little higher on his shoulder as he did.
“Is he heavy?” Alfie honestly had no idea how much babies weighed. It couldn’t be that much, surely? “I could carry him back if you want.”
“He is a bit,” Dominick said slowly. Then he glanced at Alfie’s cane. “But he’s asleep now, it might be better not to move him too much.”
Alfie tried not to feel hurt at the refusal. Dominick was kind not to say it directly, but he was right. A baby, an uneven forest path, and an unreliable leg were a recipe for disaster. “I suppose only one of us needs to be returning with a collar covered in spittle.”
“Did he really?” Dominick tried to crane his neck enough to look and Alfie felt a little better.
“Pampered little thing.” Dominick sighed. “What about you?”
“Pampered perhaps, but I’d hardly call myself little.”
“No,” said Dominick as they turned back, the sounds of the forest dampening their voices. “Did you ever want children? You’re an earl, after all. It’s expected.”
It was, but Alfie had spent a great deal of his adult life ignoring that fact. “I’m sure there are plenty of distant cousins who would be happy to take over the earldom once I’m gone. Hopefully not anytime soon. But no, as sweet as James is when he’s sleeping, I never had any desire to be a father.”
Dominick hummed. “You should know, word’s already spreading that you are. And to this little one.”
Alfie stumbled and it wasn’t at all his leg’s fault. “You can’t be serious!”
“I only know what I’ve heard. We just need to be careful that no one goes digging too deeply to find any other secrets.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. Despite their increased caution, they’d still been too careless if someone was making threats. And with the household growing by the day, they’d have to be more on guard than ever.
They walked in silence for a bit, the atmosphere heavy as the twilight descended around them.
Alfie tried to lighten the mood. “I suppose I can see the resemblance. Natural sense of command, stunning eyes, flawless skin, entire household at his beck and call, yes, he most definitely takes after me.”
Dominick snorted. “Full of shite too, I can smell it coming off the both of you.”
Alfie wrinkled his nose. He certainly wasn’t in a rush to carry James now.
“Still,” he continued. “It’s a shame his mother isn’t of noble blood. Now he’ll never be allowed to inherit.”
“Christ no, can you imagine some dirty commoner prancing around pretending to be an earl? Who ever heard of such a thing?”
They both snickered and made their way back towards the welcoming lights of the manor as darkness fell in earnest. Just as well too. He knew it was only his imagination, but after Janie’s tale about the broonies, Alfie had felt eyes on the back of his neck the entire walk from the woods, and once or twice, thought he heard the sounds of footsteps following them back.