The morning was bright, if glacial, and whilst the snow had melted on the busier thoroughfares, the wet slush that remained had frozen overnight. Alice picked her way gingerly over the cobbles, grateful for the sturdy boots she wore and determined not to fall on her face. To her relief, she made her way to Brook’s Books without incident and spent a pleasant hour browsing theshelves before selecting what promised to be a dreadful Gothic novel, and a book on gardening for Lill. Her friend had always dreamed of living in a cosy home, with a kitchen where she could indulge her love of cooking, and a garden filled with flowers and herbs and their own produce. Their little garden at the back of the house was still barely more than wilderness, but Lill had taken an interest in it last year and Alice wanted to make up for all the worry she had caused. Not that a book would stop Lill fretting over her, but it might keep her mind occupied if she could make plans for planting radishes instead of evading looming disasters.
Though she had not been entirely joking about feeling like a Christmas turkey, Alice could not resist a visit to the tea shop next, where she ordered a pot of tea and a scone. She nodded a greeting to the Misses Brumley as she passed their table, and the two elderly spinsters returned her polite nod before returning to their conversation. An empty table beckoned in a quiet corner of the tearoom and she moved towards it. Hopefully she would not garner disapproving gazes for reading at the table here, and Alice settled herself down, buttered the scone, poured her tea and took out the novel she had bought.
The Mysteries of Ferney Castleby Robert Huish was, according to Mr Brooks, a Gothic tale steeped in suspense and intrigue. Of course, he’d wanted to sell her the book, so he wasn’t about to say it was dull and boring, but Alice was looking forward to it all the same.
“Good morning, Miss Marwick.”
Alice turned, smiling as she noted the occupant of a table across the room. “Good morning, Reverend Honeywell. How do you do?”
The reverend got to his feet, having finished his tea and, judging by the empty plates, several slices of cake. “Very well, very well indeed. I was just fortifying myself before I carried on my rounds. Everyone always offer me cake and tea, even those who can ill afford it, so if I can honestly say I’ve just stuffed myself most appallingly at the teashop, they accept my refusal without feeling offended.”
“A kindly deception,” Alice said with a smile, admiring the man’s thoughtfulness. Though she did not know him well, he seemed a truly genuine soul with a compassionate heart. Certainly a rarity, in Alice’s experience.
The reverend returned a toothy grin. “Exactly so. Now, why is it, young lady, that I see you every Sunday without fail, and never your brother, the charming rascal? I confess I was delighted by him on the few occasions we have met, yet he never graces me with his presence on a Sunday. Might you persuade him to do so? If not for the sake of his immortal soul, then at least for my own amusement,” he said, and with such gravity Alice could not help but laugh despite her anxiety.
There was something about the Reverend Honeywell that unsettled her. He had a way of looking at one, with those intelligent and penetrating blue eyes, that made her wonder just what he saw. Too much, she suspected.
“I will do my best,” she assured him, deciding then and there that the reverend would never see Alfie again if she could help it.
Nodding in satisfaction, the reverend appeared about to take his leave, but he hesitated. “Miss Marwick, I beg you will excuse me if I am being an interfering busybody, I’m afraid it comes with being a man of God, but if ever you need to talk, or… or have any difficulties, youoryour brother, I hope you will come to me. You may rely upon my discretion, I promise you.”
Alice blinked, working to keep her expression perfectly blank as her heart kicked behind her ribs. “I will do so, thank you.”
He nodded then, before flashing her a wide grin. “Well, back into the fray. Good day, Miss Marwick.”
Alice watched as he bustled out, taking several deep breaths to steady her nerves and give herself a stern talking to. He was just being kind. The reverend thought her a lone female whose brother came and went as he pleased, leaving her by herself with none but her housekeeper for company. And, as she often used ill health as an excuse to be indisposed, it was only natural he should be concerned for her. It was nothing more than that.
Satisfied by this explanation, Alice relaxed once more, took a sip of her tea, and returned her attention to her book. She had just turned to the first page when a shadow fell over her table.
“Miss Marwick, what a delightful surprise to find you here.”
With the gloomy prospect of having to tell Lill she’d been right again, Alice looked up into the dazzling green eyes of Mr Aubrey Seymour. Drat the man.
She affixed her best vaguely embarrassed smile to her face and blinked up at him. “Good morning, sir. I do beg your pardon, I know perfectly well that we’ve been introduced but—”
She hesitated, wishing she’d managed the enviable skill of faking a blush, but bit her lip instead, hoping she looked entirely innocent of wrongdoing. It was hard to say if she managed it, as she’d never been innocent of wrongdoing in her entire life, but it was worth a go.
“Mr Seymour,” he replied, his manner friendly, though there was something cool and reserved in his eyes that had notbeen there when they’d first met. The flicker of admiration she had remarked was certainly gone.“AubreySeymour.”
“Oh, of course. What a henwit I am. Pray, do forgive me. I’m afraid I should lose my head next, if it were not so firmly attached.” Alice forced an anxious titter of laughter and fervently hoped her head remained that way.
“You were at my grandmother’s ball,” he said, his tone still amiable, but Alice knew he was about to come to the point.
She sighed and pressed her hands to her heart. “I was,sucha divine affair. I was utterly wretched to leave so early when I had been so looking forward to it, but I felt dreadfully unwell. Such wretched timing too, for I hoped to help Miss Honeywell search for Clara—that is, Miss Halfpenny. We were all so astonished at her taking the duke to task like she did. I do hope he is not still angry with her?”
“You were unwell?” he asked, with a quirk of one eyebrow that suggested he did not believe a word of it. Alice nodded, doing her best to appear fragile, which was laughable really. She gazed up at him with a guileless expression, quite unable to help herself remarking that his hair was the most glorious shade of auburn. She had never seen quite that colour before, so dark and rich, and the way it waved over his forehead was most becoming. If he wasn’t such a blasted nuisance, she might quite enjoy talking to such a handsome fellow or simply sitting and looking at him. As it was, she could not wait to get shot of the wretched man.
“I’m afraid so.”
He looked increasingly sceptical. “And you left the house?”
“I did. My brother was dreadfully cross with me for going home alone, and in the snow too, but I simply had to. One justneeds one’s own creature comforts when one is unwell,” she said with a dejected sigh, wondering if she was overdoing it.
He certainly did not appear convinced by her portrayal of a henwitted female.
“I see.”
Alice very much hoped he did nothing of the sort but waited. There was no point in dodging his questioning forever, for if he thought she was evading the subject, he would only become increasingly interested in pursuing it. She saw the moment when he decided he must force the issue, his expression grave.
