I glared down at the cobblestones, biting hard on my lip. It tasted of sea salt. The action didn’t keep tears from welling up in my eyes.
The streets were quiet and empty, the Steine marked with only a few riders in the distance. I made it just inside the entry hall before the tears spilled down my cheeks. “BlastJonathan Croft.” I buried my face in my hands. I sensed Eliza step closer. She had been a maid in our household for many years, and most of the time, she stayed in her place. But today, I sensed her dread as strongly as my own.
“‘Tisn’t proper, miss. Yer reputation?—”
I uncovered my eyes, a shaky breath escaping my lungs. How much had those women really seen? If it were possible to convince them that he was rescuing me—that he had no choice but to come to my aid—then perhaps the situation could be excused and my reputation could recover. But if they had seen how long we remained in the water—and that I was entirely capable of swimming on my own, then the story might not be believable at all. Was Mr. Croft still on the beach? Or had he left as quickly as I had?
Water dripped from my skirts, forming a puddle at my feet. I had been very wrong about the Brighton waters. They hadn’t healed me at all.
They had put me in dire straits.
“Ye’d best not leave the house for a few days.” Eliza closed the curtain by the front door before turning around. “Yer brother should remain ‘ere as well. The less people see of ye, the more likely this incident’ll be forgotten.”
All I could do was nod. I had told Mr. Croft that I never wished to see him or speak with him ever again. And I meant it.
Eliza followed me upstairs and drew me a bath. I scrubbed away every last particle of salt from my skin and hair before dressing in a clean gown. I was still cold, so I sat in front of the fire in the drawing room as my hair dried, and until Edmund finally made his appearance.
He peeked his head through the open doorway. We hadn’t spoken since Mama had left Brighton. My brother had always been far too skilled at recognizing when I was upset. He would surely think it was because of Charlotte’s departure, not anything as damaging as what had occurred that morning. I debated if I should tell him, but I was not in the mood to be scolded.
“How are you faring?” he asked in a tentative voice. “Well enough for breakfast?”
I was glad he didn’t immediately blame me for causing Mama’s departure from Brighton. “No, actually. I don’t think I can eat.” I wrung my fingers together. Perhaps I could still keep my morning swim a secret. If Lady Cinderford was wise, she would too.
“Not even a fresh loaf of bread? Orange marmalade?” Edmund’s cajoling smile was usually his tactic for raising my spirits, but today it didn’t work. My head spun wildly, and fear had taken root inside my stomach. There was no room for food.
“Not today.”
Edmund sighed, crossing the room to sit on the settee behind my chair. “I heard what you said to Charlotte. I am proud of you. Mother will return soon, and you will be free to continue living out your dream of Brighton.” He leaned forward as if trying to catch my gaze, but I stared at the fire.
He would not be proud of me at all soon enough. I swallowed. “Something—er—happenedthis morning.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
I sat up straighter, rubbing my palms over my knees. My heart hammered. “I’m afraid to tell you.”
Edmund looked truly concerned now, his brow furrowed. “The day has barely begun, Alice. It’s not yet eight o’clock. What could have possibly happened already?” His amusement peeked through for a brief moment before he realized that I was entirely serious.
I didn’t have the chance to answer before a knock sounded on the front door.
I leaped to my feet, my heart nearly escaping my chest. Edmund jumped at my abrupt reaction, rising to his feet a second later. He threw me a suspicious look. “Are you expecting a caller?”
I shook my head. I struggled to draw air into my lungs as I stared at the drawing room door. Where was Eliza? If she had warned the other servants about my situation, then they might not be inclined to answer the door. I held perfectly still, frozen beside the fireplace as the dreaded sound of the door latch drifted from the entry hall.
I smoothed my hands over my partially dry hair, cringing at the fuzz that had formed on the surface. Edmund watched the drawing room door as if he expected a cloaked, monstrous figure to waltz through at any moment.
His features shifted to confusion when Lady Cinderford entered the room instead, bringing with her a waft of floral perfume. I had seen her dismayed expression from atop the cliffs, but I hadn’ttrulyseen it until now. Her thin brows arched dangerously over her eyes; rosy lips pursed tight. For a long moment, she simply stared at me with that look, until I felt that it might impale me.
“Lady Cinderford,” Edmund said, breaking the silence. He walked forward with a bow. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
Her nostrils flared, and she interlocked her hands in front of her as she stared down at me. “Unfortunately, I am not here on pleasant business at all.”
Edmund shifted on his feet, casting me a sidelong glance. “Is something amiss?”
Lady Cinderford sucked in a deep breath. “Indeed. Miss Kellaway’s reputation is being called into question as we speak.”
Edmund strode closer, stopping directly beside me. I felt his eyes searching my face, but I couldn’t look at him.
“What happened?” he asked.
