Chapter 26 Between Hope and Alarm
Between Hope and Alarm
MORNING LIGHT puddled on the floor of the front hall as Belinda came down the staircase. Her belly was still in knots from what had occurred there the night before.
He’s a viscount. Mr Alwyn is a viscount.
It was a word she had heard before, of course, but she had never given the actual rank any thought. Earls, dukes, barons — they were all the same to her — inscrutable, wealthy men, shut up in their gleaming carriages as they rolled through a lofty sphere she had barely glimpsed.
She paused outside of the parlour where Mr Alwyn had covered her hand with his on the doorknob. Closing her eyes, she tried to recapture the sensation, and could not help but think, Perhaps he does love me, but felt compelled to tell me that Society would not allow for our union.
Or, perhaps…
Her eyes flew open.
No. I mustn’t cherish delusions.
But why did he come back inside after sending the Chaffees away?
When Mr Alwyn had ushered the sisters through the front door, he had followed them out, leaving Belinda to steal upstairs to her room in a daze.
While leaning against her clothes press, trying to sort through all she had just learned, she heard the front door open, then close again.
Hurrying to her window, she had seen Mr Alwyn start off down Hertford Street.
It was only then that she realized he had come back inside the house.
And that she had left him downstairs, alone.
Why was he waiting there? She bit her lip. I’d know if I hadn’t bolted like a frightened hare!
Someone behind her cleared their throat.
Turning, she saw the maid was standing just feet away.
“Shall I bring in some hot, fresh eggs for your breakfast, miss?”
Even the thought of dry toast made Lindy’s stomach clench, but she started towards the breakfast room anyway, saying, “No thank you, Minnie. I’m sure that whatever is here will be plenty for me.”
The room was empty, though a crumb-filled plate proved that her aunt had eaten already.
Outside of the window, clear blue skies sparkled over the back garden.
Amongst the tidy display of plants, Rose was sitting on the stone bench with her sleeves pushed up, and her face tilted towards the sunshine.
There was a teacup beside her as if a siren had lured her out before she had finished her breakfast.
Lifting the still-warm teapot from the sideboard, Belinda headed out to her.
“More tea, Aunt Rose?”
Her aunt’s eyes opened leisurely as she lifted the cup to be replenished.
“Ta, darling.” She scooted over on the bench and patted the freed space. “Now, you must sit that I might apologize to you.”
“You apologize to me?” Belinda asked, nestling the teapot in a bed of bugleweed before she sat down. “Whatever for?”
“Last night, I let you face those dragons on your own. I told myself as I laid down that I ought to go downstairs and see to them myself, but the next thing I knew, Minnie was stealing in to stoke the morning fire. I never even undressed.”
She held her arms out and Belinda saw that she was indeed wearing the same gown, rumpled now, that she had worn the day before.
“Therefore, I am sorry,” Rose said grimly, then glanced over her shoulder at the townhouse. “But I see the house is still standing, and you do not appear to have been torn limb from limb. So tell me, what did occur?”
Belinda took a deep breath.
“Regarding your nieces…”
“Please do not refer to them as such.” Rose cringed prettily over the rim of her teacup. “Poor George must claim them, but I think of only you and your sister as my nieces. But do go on. What happened?”
“Aunt, before I speak of it, I must tell you…when I was writing to Nell as you asked me to, I saw a letter on my uncle’s desk. I did not read it except for the signature, but that proved it had come from his sister, Imogene.”
She paused as Rose had grown completely still.
Oh aunt, will you disown me in the next moment?
“And naively thinking that I was saving you some trouble, I sent word of my uncle’s illness to Hollyfield Park.”
The admission lay heavily in the air for a quiet moment before Rose asked, “So it was you who told them?”
Nodding reluctantly, Belinda held her breath.
“Thank goodness!” Rose cried, pressing her hand to her bosom. “I thought perhaps a spy was amongst us!”
Relishing the sound of her aunt’s laughter, Belinda exhaled. “I am so terribly sorry. Had I known what they are like, I never would have—”
“Dear Lindy, fret no more on that point! But you still have not told me what happened last night. Oh, your face is telling tales. Go on – out with it!”
Stumblingly, Lindy relayed how she had been about to open the parlour door, when Mr Alwyn had appeared. She said nothing of how he had spoken to her privately, focusing only on how he had driven the Chaffees out of the house.
“Good man!” Rose cheered. “I keep finding more reasons to like him.”
“But aunt, you will not believe it! When Anne first saw him, she studied him and…”
“What? What is it?”
“She called him Lord Farrmore.”
“Ha!” Mrs Caspar laughed. “Spite has addled her brains — what a bit of bosh!”
“It isn’t! He did not deny it — Aunt, Mr Alwyn is a viscount.”
Belief spread slowly across Rose’s face.
“It’s true, then? And Anne was the one to discover him!
That will be the triumph of her life. Imogene will eat her hat in fury that she did not see him with her own eyes.
Poor Mr Alwyn must look out! Every living Chaffee will feign illness now in hopes of catching a glimpse of him.
A viscount — simply incredible! He gulled us all! ”
The accusation, though good-natured, snagged in Belinda’s ears, and she shook her head. “No, he is not mischievous. He wants to be a doctor in honour of his late mother. I cannot believe he meant to mislead anyone.”
“Oh darling, I think no ill of him. But wait…you knew?”
“Of his title? No. Only of his aspiration and the force behind it.”
“What a remarkable fellow!” Rose lifted her teacup as if to toast him, then knit her brow. “Did he ask to see your uncle after he’d scuttled the girls out of the door?”
“No. I told him Uncle George was resting, so…he left.”
“But why did he come to call last night?”
Lindy’s pulse picked up. To hold my hand and tell me he hoped we would spend the future together.
“He didn’t say.” The fib felt like a rock in her mouth.
“Perhaps he will return today, and make his purposes clear,” Rose said, closing her eyes again to lift her face to the sunlight.
Belinda barely murmured a response, her heart cleft between hope and alarm at the thought that he just might.
***
A little while later, she was in the parlour distracting herself by writing a letter to her mother when Lee entered.
“Beg your pardon, miss,” he said. “But one of them doctor-fellas is ‘ere to see you.”
Lindy’s pen froze above the paper.
Mr Alwyn has come — How is it I both crave and dread his presence? Flighty heart, fickle mind!
“Miss?”
She stared dumbly at Lee while her mind raced.
If I am to be responsible for the matters of my heart, I must hear Mr Alwyn out fully.
“Please see him in.”
With a bow, the footman was gone.
Standing slowly as she heard the approach of footsteps, Belinda equipped her tongue with the greeting she had practiced, but it took a different form as she saw who entered the room.
“Mr Sliger?”
The young man stood in the doorway, nodding hello.
A horrible thought seized Lindy. Perhaps I offended Mr Alwyn last night and he doesn’t mean to return.
“Have you come to tend to my uncle?”
“No.” Sliger shook his boyish head, amused. “I’m only a first year. I’ve come to speak with you about another matter. May I?”
He indicated the settee.
“Of course.” Belinda was thankful that she, too, could sit back down. She wondered at the boy’s sudden solemnity as he rested his hat on his knee.
He did not keep her in anticipation for long. “I hope this will not seem too forward, Miss Everson, but do I recall correctly that you came to town with hopes of becoming a lady’s companion?”
“Yes, precisely that.”
“Well, I’ve become aware of such a position that must be filled.”
Oh dear, what a friendly complication!
“I thank you, Mr Sliger, but—”
“I assure you —” He raised a hand in appeal. “It would be a most pleasant appointment based on who the employer is. He meant to come and speak with you himself just last evening, but something must have interfered, and he has a very full day today, so I’ve come on his behalf.”
As realization took shape in Lindy’s mind, she gripped the armrests of her chair.
“Who is it who hopes to employ me?”
“Forgive my vagueness.” The boy grinned as if he were about to reveal a delightful surprise. “Mr Alwyn believes you would be exceptionally well-suited to act as companion to his elderly aunt.”
Lindy felt the blood drain from her face as her mind careered to the finish line.
That is what he meant when he spoke of us spending the ‘future together’! It was not love for me that formed that phrase!
“Miss Everson? Have I spoken out of turn?” Cringing, Sliger began to crush his hat. “Pus and puke! I’ve made a muck of things, again!”
I must get a hold of myself, Belinda thought. With herculean effort, she said soothingly, “No, you haven't. When last I spoke to Mr Alwyn, he implied something of the sort, and I wondered what he might be getting at, so I thank you for the clarification.”
“He thought he oughtn’t talk to you about it until he had become a full-fledged doctor, but he said he feared losing you to another household, so I thought I would…” His voice faded as his fierce stare threatened to set the carpet on fire. “Well, when he does speak to you about it—”
“You think he will?”
“I’d bet my soul! But I oughtn’t say another word.” Sliger rose from his seat. “Please forgive me, Miss Everson. I’ll just go now.”
“Good day, Mr Sliger,” Belinda murmured, too hamstrung by her own chagrin to console him further as he slunk out of the room.
Imagine me as companion to Mr Alwyn’s aunt! Every time he came to visit, I’d have to sit with them and steady my hand whilst serving tea.
And what if he brought a wife? I’d need to make conversation with her, and smile! For surely he will be married someday…but not to me.
No, not to me. She brushed roughly at her eyes. I did not earn a doctor’s affections, let alone those of a viscount!
Her face burned at the follies her gullible, greedy heart had whispered all morning long while awaiting the man’s return.
And return, he will — at least Mr Sliger seems to think so.
She pictured Mr Alwyn on the settee, making plain to her terms of employment rather than the matters of his heart.
I must have a ready answer for him — a courteous, yet definitive ‘No, thank you’.
Yes, I need to settle things with the Hartleys tonight.