Chapter 24 #2
“It will remove the barrier of your being a member of staff.”
“Do you not want me to be your governess any longer?” Adeline asked.
“It would be better if you were my…” Louisa flushed and hid her face by burying it in her punch goblet.
“Your?” Adeline probed gently.
“It doesn’t matter,” Louisa said, hurriedly, face scarlet. “Here comes Grandmother.”
Cordelia was emerging from the crowd, looking very pleased with herself and constantly looking back to where Winston still conversed with Lady Victoria.
“Come along, Louisa. Allow Miss Wilkinson the freedom to be asked to dance,” she said imperiously. “I have seen several men of your acquaintance in the room, including Lord Duskwood. I do believe he has been asking after you,” she said to Adeline.
Adeline smiled, though the name drew no reaction of excitement from her. The only feeling was a void in her chest.
“That is most considerate,” she said.
She looked back at Winston as Cordelia and Louisa were absorbed into the crowd. He was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Lady Victoria. Adeline looked around hastily. Then she saw him. Not Winston. Her father.
Lord Harston stood near the far archway, tall and stern, his hair silvered at the temples.
Time had not softened him. At his side, as if conjured by her worst fears, was Mr. Pike.
The investigator from Bow Street. They spoke, heads closed and eyes whipping the room.
Two conspirators. Two searchers. The glass of punch in her hand trembled.
She set it down and rose, pressing through the crowd before either man could look her way. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
Doors led out to a hallway and then to other, smaller function rooms. Finally, a door in an alcove gave onto a small garden.
She slipped through and the cool air struck her like a slap.
The rain had stopped, but the paving stones were slick.
She drew a shaky breath, gripping the balustrade that surrounded a paved terrace.
Behind her, a footstep. She spun round, the panic rising.
“It’s me.” Winston stepped from the shadows, his face taut with concern. “Adeline, what happened? I saw you practically run from the room.”
She struggled to regain her composure. “I thought…I saw…”
“I know who.”
“You do?” Adeline felt that yawning void within her open, consuming her with aching coldness.
This is it. The end. The denouncement.
“Your fiancé, your former fiancé, I should say. This is just what happened at the theater, all over again.”
Then he stopped, staring at her intently, mouth open.
“That has just come to me. You ran. I did not remember before, but I have a clear recollection now. You ran from the theater and I chased you.”
Adeline nodded dumbly, hunching in on herself, hugging herself tightly.
“I was terrified. I thought I saw him in the audience. But this time I did. I saw him plain as day.”
“Then name him so I can denounce him,” Winston said, seizing her by the forearms.
“No!” Adeline cried, tearing free from his grasp.
Winston looked at her helplessly, perplexed.
“Then I will stay by your side for the rest of the evening.”
“You can’t do that. Lady Victoria…”
“Can go hang.”
“Duty demands…”
“You had better be quiet about duty,” Winston said. “I will not hear it. Tell me his name and I will have him quietly removed. Then I will return to duty.”
“I cannot,” Adeline replied.
“Then consider me your bodyguard.”
Adeline laughed, feeling on the verge of tears but wanting desperately to put herself into his warm embrace. To let him protect her.
“You’ll catch your death out here,” Winston said, shrugging off his coat and flinging it about her shoulders.
“I’ve survived worse.”
He moved closer, the faint lamplight catching the lines of his face. He reached out, his hand hovering near her arm.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” his voice softened. “You don’t have to be. You are protected.”
She met his eyes then, saw the worry there, the anger he was trying to contain, and something else that frightened her more than either. She wanted to lean into him, to let him shield her from the world outside the walls of that house, but she didn’t dare.
“I shouldn’t have come,” she whispered.
“Then I will see you safely home,” Winston insisted, putting his arms around her shoulders.
They stood close enough that she could feel the heat of him, his breath steady while hers faltered. His strong hands rested on her back, and his closeness warmed her. She allowed her arms to slip around his waist, holding him close, resting her cheek against his chest.
“Winston…” she began.
Then the door behind them opened. A liveried footman looked out at them.
“Your Grace. Her Grace the Dowager Duchess, your mother, has collapsed.”
Winston cursed under his breath. He took a firm hold of Adeline’s hand, leaned heavily upon her, and headed for the door without a word.
Adeline supported him, only just now remembering that his injuries must still be giving him issues.
Her heart quickened with worry for her friend and mistress.
Reentering the main ballroom, she forgot the reason she had left in such a hurry. Instead, she looked only for Cordelia.
The Dowager Duchess sat on a chair, looking wan. Louisa furiously fanned her while the Duchess of Kent herself vigorously rubbed the back of Cordelia’s hands. Adeline relaxed her hold on Winston, leaving him to stand on his own without her aid, then fell to her knees in front of the older woman.
“Your Grace? Are you well?” she asked, anxiously.
“Do not fret, little storm bird. Too many people. Too much heat and wine without food. My own foolish fault. I am feeling much better.”
Winston hovered, glowering at the world.
“You do not look much better, Mother. You look like a ghost. I think we should curtail the evening.”
“Nonsense!” Cordelia objected, trying to stand only to fall back, a hand going to her forehead.
“Send for our carriage at once,” Adeline ordered, catching a waiting servant’s eye.
Such was the snap in her voice that the man didn’t wait for confirmation from the Duke but nodded and took to his heels.
Minutes passed before he returned to confirm the carriage awaited them outside.
Cordelia revived and, grumbling but pale with Louisa beside her, made her way through the crowd towards the doors.
Winston shadowed the three women as they made their way outside. His pace was naturally slower than theirs, because of his smarting ribs, but he also lagged so that he could keep an eye on them. He chided himself for indulging in this frivolity.
She is getting too old for overcrowded assembly rooms. If she cannot show some common sense, then I must exercise it for her.
The thought occurred that it might be better if his mother stayed at Greyston for a while, even after Briarwood was restored.
Cordelia and Adeline. It was a tempting idea that he stamped on immediately.
Before he could exit the building, he felt a diffident touch upon his arm.
He stopped, whirling to give whoever had dared put hands upon him a piece of his mind.
Two men stood there, one of them looking over Winston’s shoulder to where Adeline and Cordelia were getting into the carriage.
“Yes?” Winston snapped. “What is it?”
“Forgive the intrusion, Your Grace,” said a man with a plain face, well-made but simple clothes, and a timid manner. “My name is Mr. Pike of Bow Street. I have been trying to get an appointment with you for some time.”
“Now, is not the time, Pike,” Winston said, pulling his arm free and turning away, wincing at the pain the sudden movement caused him.
“This is Lord Harston, Your Grace.”
“Never heard of him,” Winstone said.
“But your daughter’s governess has,” Pike replied.
That stopped Winston in his tracks. His eyes went from one man to the other.
“The lady residing in your household, serving as the governess, is this man’s daughter,” Pike said.
The words struck like a stone dropped into still water. Winston’s jaw tightened. He gave no sign of surprise, only the cold politeness of a man masking fury.
“I thank you for the information,” he said.
He turned back toward Adeline, who waited unaware in the carriage. She still wore his coat about her shoulders. She looked up at him as he approached, offering a small, uncertain smile.
“Cordelia seems much better now she has had some fresh air.” Adeline patted his mother’s knee gently.
Winston slid onto the seat next to Louisa. He looked from one woman to the next, then murmured, “She will be.”
His voice was steady, but his pulse thundered. Outside, the carriage lamps threw their light across the wet street. As the horses started forward, Winston gazed out into the dark. The truth sat between them now, unspoken, heavy, and impossible to ignore.
Lord Harston…Adeline is his daughter…What does this mean?
The carriage jerked slightly to the left, and his mother gave a soft moan in reply. Winston’s eyes darted toward her, then he focused on Adeline once more.
I promised to keep her safe, and I will keep that promise.