Chapter 8
“There is no need to feel so nervous,” Alaric said gently.
“I am not nervous,” Miss Kavanagh answered quickly, done in a way that highlighted just how nervous she was.
Alaric raised an eyebrow at her.
She grimaced. “I am not nervous. I am just … I want to be sure that I do not make any mistakes. That you made the right decision in asking me to help you.”
“Mistakes are a natural part of the learning process,” he said coolly.
“In fact, I would expect you to make them. Not that I encourage such a thing …” He kept his eyebrow raised as if in warning, but he allowed a small smile at the same time so that she would know he was jesting.
“All I wish today is that you listen and learn.”
“I can do that.” She nodded once and sat a little straighter.
Alaric was starting to notice that it was common for Miss Kavanagh to act that way. She seemed to approach life with hesitancy, forever wary that something was going to go wrong and that she needed to be ready for it. This gave her the appearance of shyness, which was how he had first seen her.
But she was not shy at all. She was not timid. Nor was she softly spoken. Once she grew comfortable, her confidence battered away that feigned shyness to reveal her true self.
And as Alaric was also starting to realize, he rather liked that side of her.
“Are you ready to begin?” he asked as she appeared to come into herself.
“I am,” she said firmly. “Just promise to go easy on me.”
Alaric’s sister had warned him about Miss Kavanagh. Not for any good reason, however; just that she had a feeling that something was off about her. That warning came with strict instructions to spend as little time with his new housekeeper as possible – as if she had any right to ask such a thing.
Alaric decided to ignore his sister’s request.
A part of it was because he did not appreciate being told what to do. Another part was because his grandmother’s words still echoed in his mind, and he knew she wanted Alaric to spend more time with Miss Kavanagh. He did not know why, but he was determined to find out.
The greatest reason that Alaric chose to ignore his sister, and the one that he could not deny, was that he rather liked Miss Kavanagh’s company. What was more, he liked her.
He felt comfortable speaking with her. A sense of ease and understanding that made it feel as if he had known her for years, rather than weeks.
Alaric was never one to develop familial ties with people; friendships were rare to him because he was not so open as that, but with Miss Kavanagh … I do not even have to try.
Therefore, that last evening saw him come to a decision, one he put into action the following morning.
Alaric’s task was to go over the weekly ledgers and spending reports of the estate; those that pertained to household spending such as wages, food bills, and general upkeep. It was tiresome work; he did not enjoy it, and he realized that it might be a task better suited to someone else.
Miss Kavanagh was intelligent. She was well-read and educated. And he knew she would appreciate the added responsibility.
Thus, he asked to see her. He told her that in time she would be in charge of such things, and then they sat together in his office, and he showed her the required process so that she could soon do it herself.
“… you have forgotten something.” Alaric looked up from the ledgers and raised an eyebrow at Miss Kavanagh.
She furrowed her brow. “I did?”
“Yes …” He turned the ledger to face her. “See here …”
She leaned forward and read what he pointed at. “The staff’s wages. I see it.”
“Do you see your mistake?”
“I …” She bit her lip as she scanned the columns above the total, likely adding them all together quickly. “It adds up. I did not make a mistake.” He kept his eyebrow raised, and she grimaced. “I mean, I do not think I did …”
He chuckled. “I was going to raise it before you started, but I wanted to see if you might catch it yourself. So, in this, perhaps I am to blame.”
“How very humble.”
“It was an easy mistake to make. You added the staff’s wages correctly, but you forgot to include the ground staff and stablehands. They are staff also.”
“But –” Without asking, she took the ledger from him and scanned it again. “But they are not included here.”
“Their expenses are listed under matters of the grander estate.” He leaned over and flipped the pages of the ledger to show her where their wages were listed. “See.”
“That’s cheating!”
“Cheating? Cheating how?”
“I mean …” Her brow furrowed, and he saw how frustrated she was. It made him laugh even more because her anger was forced, and it did not suit her. “How was I to know that?”
“You were not.” He took the ledger back. “Not unless I told you, but I wanted to see what you would do.”
She exhaled sharply. “I think you just enjoy tricking me.”
“Maybe just a little,” he said, grinning.
Yes, she was easy to get along with. She was easier to like. And as they spent that morning together, tucked away in his office with nobody to disturb them, Alaric felt their bond increasing to something that transgressed beyond the relationship of an employer and employee.
She took back the ledger and started her calculations again.
Alaric watched her. He focused on her green eyes, the way they roamed the page with fierce intelligence.
He focused on her full lips, how she pushed them together in thought.
He noticed a stray hair falling over her brow, and he nearly leaned forward to push it back – he abstained from doing so, obviously.
Then his eyes drifted lower, to her neckline, where he noticed a necklace he had not seen before. It was a simple chain, and it disappeared under her top. He frowned as he noticed it, wondering why she would wear a necklace while hiding the jewel.
“Knock, knock …” The door swung open.
Alaric’s eyes widened, and he was quick to pull his gaze from Miss Kavanagh; he pretended to be looking at the ceiling, as if something of interest caught his attention. For some reason, he was struck by the sudden sense that he had been doing something wrong …
“Ah, there they are.” Peregrine wandered into the office. “My two favorite people.”
“Mr. Loxley!” Miss Kavanagh put down the ledger. “It is good to see you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine; I assure you.” Peregrine swept forward, and Alaric thought he was about to take her by the hand and kiss it. “And that I am lucky enough to happen upon you again like this … let us call it fate.”
Peregrine had always been a charming individual. Most of the time, Alaric did not notice it, nor did he care to. But the way he spoke to Miss Kavanagh … and the way she responded with a shy giggle and flushed cheeks … it had Alaric’s stomach twisting and his pulse quickening as if in anger.
Anger … or is that jealousy?
“What is it you require, Peregrine?” Alaric cleared his throat and pushed those thoughts down. “We are rather busy.”
“I came to see if you might wish to join me on a ride,” his friend responded. “The day is lush, and it ought not be wasted.”
Alaric clicked his tongue. “I was hoping to finish this today …”
“I have an idea,” Miss Kavanagh offered. “As you have already shown me what to do, why not leave it with me? I will attempt to finish on my own, and then you can instruct me on all the mistakes I am sure to have made.”
“That …” Alaric blinked, surprised by the suggestion. Again, it reminded him that she was not nearly so shy as he had once thought. “That is a good idea.”
“I am bound to have one now and then,” she said.
He laughed at the comment, and she laughed too, and Peregrine looked between them curiously. Alaric noticed him, cleared his throat to mask the laughter, and then glared a warning at Peregrine so that he would not voice what appeared to be on his mind.
“Shall we be at it then?” Peregrine said with a knowing smirk.
“Yes.” Alaric looked at him flatly. “We shall be.”
He left further instructions for Miss Kavanagh to follow, while assuring her that he would check in on her later. And as he left the office, and Miss Kavanagh, for that matter, Alaric was struck by a sudden sense of loss.
He wanted to spend more time with her; that was the reason. And while it might have been nice to have said the reasons were for business purposes, he knew that to be a lie. As to the true reason? That was a thing he was not quite ready to admit. Not yet, anyhow.
***
When Alaric returned from his ride a few hours later, his first thought was to find Miss Kavanagh so that he could follow up on their previous meeting. She had been in his thoughts for the entire ride, and once again, his lies that it was purely for business purposes were wearing thin.
However, as soon as he and Peregrine walked into the castle, they were asked to meet Verity in the drawing room. Apparently, she was waiting for them.
“Ah, there you are,” Verity said as the two men entered. “It is about time.”
“Verity!” Peregrine swept toward her, his smile all teeth and as charming as ever. “The day is a beautiful one, but as is always the case, it is a mere shadow when compared to your own.” He took her hand and squeezed it as he looked into her eyes.
Verity pretended to act aloof, as if the compliment was too much. But her smile told a different story. “Peregrine, as always, it is good to see you.”
“Only good?”
As Peregrine and Verity spoke, Alaric looked over the drawing room quickly. He noticed Mr. Carrow first, standing just down from his sister. And then, to his surprise, he saw Miss Kavanagh.
“Miss Kavanagh?” Alaric blurted. “What are you doing here?”
Her eyes widened, and she looked at Verity as if she was scared to answer. Verity heard the question, and she stepped around Peregrine to answer.
“She is here on my request,” Verity answered. “Or rather, at Mr. Carrow’s suggestion …” She did not sound pleased by that last statement.
“To what end?” Alaric asked.
“As you know, Alaric, the anniversary of Aisling’s passing approaches, and I thought it appropriate that we hold a memorial service to honor her.”
“Oh …” Alaric leaned back, struck by the realization that he had forgotten such a thing. Guilt touched him; he grimaced in shame, and then he bowed his head in an effort to show how saddened he was. “Yes, I remember.”
“I would hope so,” Verity said. “There is much to do, and even more to arrange, so I asked Mr. Carrow if he and our housekeeper would join us in our discussions of what is required. They will be doing much of the busy work, so they must be kept informed.”
“Of course,” he said awkwardly, head still bowed. “That is a good idea.”
Alaric could not believe that he had forgotten about the anniversary of his wife’s death. And while he might have liked to have said that it was on account of his grandmother’s passing, that he had become distracted, he knew that was a lie.
He did miss his wife. He did mourn for her. But did he miss her enough? And was he a terrible person because the death of his grandmother affected him more than that of his own wife?
What sort of husband am I? No … what sort of man am I?
“Before we begin such discussions, however …” Verity swept across the room, and Alaric only just then noticed an easel propped by the hearth, on which was a covered canvas.
“I had this painted in secret, Alaric, and where I thought to reveal it on the day …” She flashed her eyes with excitement. “I would love to know your opinion.”
“What …”
Verity removed the canvas to reveal a portrait of his wife. It was as lifelike a painting as Alaric had ever seen, capturing her beauty perfectly. That dark hair, those darker eyes, the sharpness of her features; even the shape of her nose, the small crook in it, was done to perfection.
Alaric found himself gaping.
Again, the guilt, the shame, battered him in ways he had not expected but could do nothing to stop. He met his wife’s eyes, and he saw judgment in them, as if even she knew of his feelings since her death.
“It is rather accurate,” Peregrine noted. “A perfect facsimile.”
“It is,” Verity said with a proud nod. “Aisling was as beautiful a woman as I have ever known; both in her physicality and her nature. I feel that this portrait captures her –”
A gasp from across the room cut through Verity’s statement.
It was Miss Kavanagh. Her eyes were wide set as if in fear. Her mouth hung open in disbelief. She stared at the portrait of Alaric’s deceased wife in a way that might have suggested that she was seeing a ghost. As she did, her hand slowly moved to the necklace around her neck.
“Miss Kavanagh?” Alaric asked. “Is something the matter?”
She said nothing. Staring. Gaping. Her face turned white. Her body began to tremble.
“Miss Kavanagh!” Alaric saw it before it happened. It was the way that she swayed, the suddenness of surprise. He rushed across the room, arms out, catching Miss Kavanagh mere seconds before she collapsed. “Miss Kavanagh? Miss Kavanagh?” he shouted at her.
His words went unanswered and unheard. For whatever reason, one that he could not begin to guess, she had passed out cold. And all on account of the portrait of his wife.
What on earth is going on?