“So I should suppose, but you were a victim of circumstance, Apple. Not your fault.”
“Unfortunately, that does not change the facts, does it?” She slipped out of his hold, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze. He’d set the basket on the table and she went to pick it up. “I must take this to Reddy.”
But at that moment, the nurse came bustling into the living room. “Is that you, my dearie? Did you find the spices we need?”
Apple turned with relief to the elderly dame, handing over the basket. “Yes, along with tea and cocoa, and also the greens and a fresh loaf. Oh, and I got cheese and butter from that little dairy in Market Place as I was passing.”
The nurse’s plump features brightened. “That would be Dumper’s. Well, that was a kind thought, my dear, thank you. Now, I’ll just pop back to the kitchen with these. The coffee won’t be but a moment.”
Apple took a step or two after her. “Shall I come and bring it in?”
Mrs Reddicliffe turned at the door. “No, no. You stay and talk to Master Alex.” She wagged a finger at him. “And don’t you go upsetting the poor mite, Master Alex!”
He was watching Apple, much to her dismay, but he turned his head at that. “Last thing I wish to do, Reddy.”
“Well, see you don’t. She’s had enough to bear and that’s a fact.” With which, she stomped through to the rear of the cottage, leaving Apple decidedly embarrassed.
She tried to avoid Alex’s gaze, making a business of shaking out her petticoats and taking a seat in one of the two comfy old armchairs either side of the fire.
Alex perched on the arm of the other, his eyes still on her, his expression hard to read. For this, the gloom of the late afternoon was responsible. Mrs Reddicliffe had lit candles in a wall sconce and a three-pronged candelabrum on the mantelpiece, but the fading daylight outside the window had not yet grown dark enough for the candlelight to prevail.
“You look sick as a cat, and no wonder,” he said at last.
Apple sighed and brushed at her cheeks, cold still from the wind and rain. “I feel like a drowned rat.”
His explosive laugh sounded, and a pang smote Apple for the familiarity of it. She covered her face with her hands.
“Don’t, Apple. Please don’t cry.” She dropped her hands and looked up to find his expression gentler than she’d before seen. “Can’t bear to see you upset.”
She managed a wavering smile. “I’m not crying. I’m all cried out if you want the truth.”
He leaned a little towards her, his tone becoming earnest. “Listen, Apple, it’s not the end of the world. At least your grandfather made provision for you. You ain’t dependent on those vultures, and you can choose your own path.”
“I know.” Her voice was stronger now. “It was just the shock, finding it was true after all. Silly of me, because it’s not as if I wasn’t expecting it. Only I didn’t suppose he would turn out to be someone so — so high up in the world. Mr Vergette said a man of stature. He meant rank, of course.”
“Yes.”
The monosyllable shot suspicion into Apple’s mind and she frowned at Alex. “Did he tell you who it was?Is, I mean?”
Alex put out a hand. “Of course not. I’d tell you if I knew. Only I guessed, Apple.”
“How?”
“When I went to see the fellow in London, a friend told me he only serves men as high as dukes or marquises. My father said the same.”
Apple gazed at him, dazed. “Dukes or marquises?”
His sudden grin lightened her heart. “Got to admit it don’t sound like you, young Apple.”
A laugh escaped her. “Not in the least. In fact, I don’t think I believe it.”
“Dare say we’ll never know. It’s obvious Vergette is sworn to secrecy on the identity of the fellow. But that need not concern you, as long as he hands over the dibs.”
The underlying gloom resurfaced. “Why did you chase after me, Alex?”
“Well, you know why, don’t be a hen-wit. Might as well ask you why you went off without a word to me, but I know you too well to need telling.”
Apple clasped her fingers together rather tightly, looking down at them. “I knew you would stop me if I told you.”
