“You may try,” Alfie replied nonchalantly, lifting his teacup to his lips. “If you think you’re up to it.”
“Oh, may I? Where and when, young fellow? I think it time someone taught you a lesson in respecting your elders.”
Alfie snorted. “Well, at least you didn’t say betters, I might have choked on my tea.”
Any reply Aubrey might have made to this provoking comment was swallowed as Mrs Fairway arrived with their breakfasts. She set the plates down, loaded with bacon and eggs, sausages, fried bread, mushrooms and tomatoes.
“There we are, gents, eat it up afore it gets cold,” she said cheerfully before hurrying away to see to her next customer.
Aubrey looked at Alfie, who was gazing at the massive plate of food with something close to awe. “Well then, sprat, eat up, else I might throw you back after all.”
Alfie snorted and did just as he was bid.
Chapter 4
From Larceny to Amity
Ocean View Villa, Little Valentine, 7thJanuary 1816
“What are you grinning about, then?” Lill demanded, as Alice sat before the fire, a slice of bread on a toasting fork held out before her.
Alice blinked, torn from her thoughts by Lill’s curious demand as she carried in the tea tray, alongside dishes of butter, jam, and honey. She rearranged her face and shrugged but Lill knew her too well.
“Don’t you go thinking you can be friends with that fellow,” she warned Alice, setting the tray down and putting her hands on her hips.
Alice ignored her, pushing the golden piece of toast off the fork and onto a plate. She offered it to Lill, who shook her head.
“You have the first piece, I’ll pour the tea.”
Alice skewered another piece of bread and rested it on the fender to brown before reaching for the butter and applying a liberal amount to her toast. She frowned as she spread the butter, reflecting that Lill knew her too well for comfort sometimes. It was both a blessing and a curse. She was right, naturally. It would be beyond foolish to cultivate any manner of intimacy or friendship between them, but entirely against her will she had liked Aubrey a good deal, and she’d felt it had beenmutual. She had liked the way he’d teased Alfie, ribbing him good-naturedly, like he might do with a younger brother. She’d also liked the admiring way he’d regarded Alice rather too much. Mr Seymour was a handsome devil, what with all that lovely hair and those twinkling eyes. He was kind too, caring of his sister, and to a woman who deserved no kindness, if he knew the truth. But he was no fool, and she suspected he would make a dangerous foe.
She ought not to play cards with him. She ought not go to the hall tomorrow either to return the brooch. If she had any sense at all, she would send Lill to deliver it. But sense was not something that she had in any significant supply, it appeared, for she knew she would deliver the brooch herself, as Alice, and that Alfie would play cards with his new friend. There was no need to tell Lill any of that, though. She turned the bread on the toasting fork before it burned.
“Honey or jam?”
“Honey, thank you,” Alice said, taking the dish from Lill, spreading the sweet, viscous substance upon her toast. She took a bite, relishing the thick golden honey, the melted butter that dripped onto her fingers. It was a simple pleasure, but one that had never become old or unappreciated. Once upon a time, they would have considered this a feast. But things had changed. The ever-present worry that they might change back again nagged at her, but Alice pushed it away. They’d never be poor again, never be helpless again. She’d seen to that.
“Want me to deliver the brooch to the hall, then?” Lill asked as she plucked the piece of hot toast from the fork and added a fresh slice of bread.
“Nope.”
Lill sighed. “Thought not,” she said, looking none too pleased, but had the good sense to save her breath.
Ocean View Villa, Little Valentine, 8thJanuary 1816
“Miss Marwick! What a lovely surprise, but is Alfie not with you?”
Alice had to admit the enthusiasm of Mr Seymour’s greeting rather surprised her as he hailed her in the grand entrance hall of his grandmother’s house. He looked perfectly at home here, this handsome nobleman, grandson of a duke, dressed immaculately in a perfectly tailored blue coat and buff breeches that clung to his muscular thighs in all the right places.
Stop looking, drat you!
Alice returned her gaze to his face, which did not help at all, as his sparkling green eyes reminded her of emeralds and tempted her just as fiercely.
“No, Mr Seymour. My brother had some errands to run this morning, but he asked that you meet him at The Swan this evening, around eight, if that suits you unless—” Alice hesitated, lowering her eyes in embarrassment before saying what Alfie hadapparentlyinstructed her to say. “Unless you have come to your senses?”
“Oh ho! Like that, is it? Your brother is a wag, Miss Marwick,” Aubrey said with a snort. “Don’t tell me you think I ought to be afraid of that young whippersnapper?”
Alice bit her lip, not quite able to hide her smile. “My brother is many things, Mr Seymour, but I am afraid he has the devil’s own luck with cards. You may wish to proceed with caution.”
