Chapter Thirty-One
Adelaide stepped into the Eastwood home and realized instantly that Lady Wintham was no longer in possession of all her faculties.
The hallway had been cleared of all furniture, save three rectangular tables, each longer than a man. Everything else was cake. Cake, neatly cut into bite-size squares and arranged on platters, row after row of them. There was white cake and chocolate cake and—good heavens—pink cake.
Were they really to eat all of this?
“Good gracious,” Adelaide’s mother whispered, looking rather cowed.
Indeed.
“You have arrived!” Lady Wintham spread her arms wide as though to embrace them all. “Welcome. Abingdon and Wintham are in their studies, and I expect Nicholas to be along any moment. Alice, will you please fetch Lady Freesia from her rooms?”
“Of course.”
Adelaide felt a strange pang as she watched her sister move up the stairs with the air of one who had done so many times. She had not realized Alice was already on such familiar terms with the Eastwood family. And Lady Freesia was to be Alice’s sister! Lady Freesia, who was so lovely and elegant, the toast of the ton. Together, they would be the most celebrated sisters in all London.
Adelaide’s heart squeezed.
“Shall we take tea in the parlor while we wait for Wintham and my sons?” Lady Wintham asked.
“Tea would be delightful,” Adelaide’s mother said.
“Wonderful! This way, if you please.”
Adelaide stepped after her parents but halted when she heard a hissing sound from the stairs. She craned her neck to see—and there was Lady Freesia, beckoning to her. She glanced to her parents, who were oblivious, and darted up the stairs.
“Is all well, Lady Freesia?” she asked. “Where is my sister?”
“Oh.” Lady Freesia blinked her blue eyes innocently. “I daresay she was waylaid by my brother.”
“Should we not find them?” Adelaide asked. “Before someone else does?”
Lady Freesia laughed. “Heavens, no. That’s part of the excitement.”
Adelaide saw nothing exciting in being caught. Humiliation and anguish were more likely.
“Then why did you summon me?” she asked.
“I thought we should get to know each other better, as we are to be sisters, of a kind. Won’t that be wonderful?” She gestured for Adelaide to follow her. “Will you come to my room?”
Adelaide followed, despite her growing feeling of trepidation. Where were Alice and Abingdon? Why had none of the chaperones noticed their charges had dispersed? Most important, what was Lady Freesia up to? It was gratifying that she had called Adelaide her sister, and yet Adelaide could not help but wonder why. The lady had never shown any interest in her before, though she had always been polite.
“Now, then.” Lady Freesia beamed a beatific smile. “Are you going to marry my brother, Miss Bursnell?”
Taken aback, Adelaide considered her options.
“Not if I can help it” was a wholly inappropriate response, particularly since her heart was aching to say yes.
Perhaps she ought to flee.
But Lady Freesia seemed to anticipate that response, for she moved quickly to block her path.
Adelaide sighed resignedly. “Have you discussed this with your brother?”
Lady Freesia sent her a look of shock. “Of course not! Could you imagine?”
Yes, Adelaide could very well imagine. Nick was a secretive man, both by nature and profession, and would not care for even his beloved sister prying into his affairs.
“We are not engaged. If that ever changes, I am sure he will tell you so himself.”
“If,” Lady Freesia repeated thoughtfully. “So, there is a chance, then.”
Adelaide nearly groaned aloud. “There is a chance the earth will plow into the sun, but we can all hope for the best.”
Lady Freesia laughed. “Oh, I like you, Miss Bursnell. I do hope we’ll be sisters.”
Adelaide returned the sentiment. “That is kind of you to say, but I think you would be disappointed,” she said gently. “I don’t think I can make him happy.”
“I think you could.” Lady Freesia turned serious. “It is not so hard. He only wants to be loved. He has been forced to take care of himself for so long, he doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants. He just needs a woman to love him through his wicked moments and bring him a tart when his mood is foul. A little kindness, that’s all he needs.”
Adelaide jerked in surprise. She hadn’t realized Lady Freesia had been watching.
“But you seem to understand that,” the other woman said softly. “It’s his most secret desire, I think, to be loved by a lady who is sweet and good and kind—all the things he is not. I think that lady is you, Miss Bursnell.”
Adelaide’s eyes filled. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. “But I am not good,” she whispered.
Lady Freesia considered that. “Adelaide—may I call you that? It seems ridiculous to stand on ceremony at this point. Anyway, we all have secrets, and I’m sure you have yours. But I still hope to have you for a sister, and I’ll help you in any way I can.”
“But…why?”
“Because I can.” Silk rustled as Freesia shrugged her shoulders. “I like to do what I can, I suppose, because there are so many things I cannot.”
Strange girl. And yet… “I know just what you mean,” Adelaide said.
“Good.” Freesia squeezed her hand. “Shall we go down? I daresay they have eaten all the cake without us.”
“That would be impossible.”
“One can always hope.” Freesia paused. “Perhaps I’ll see if Nate is in his study first. Go on without me, and I’ll be along in a moment.”
Adelaide nodded. She parted ways with Freesia in the long hallway, moving toward the stairs. As she passed a closet, she heard…a sound.
She stopped.
There it was again, coming from the closet—a low, groaning sound. The kind of sound a man made when he was in pain and rather enjoying it.
Good Lord.
She knew that sound.
She stared at the door.
She should not. She knew she should not. It was none of her affair what went on behind a closed door.
But she pressed her ear against the wood anyway.
There was a rhythmic pounding, as though a body was pressed repeatedly against a wall, followed by a groan and a feminine cry.
She stepped back hastily, spun around, and swiftly tiptoed to the stairs, her heart thumping hard in her breast.
She stood in the room of cakes and tried to catch her stuttering breath. The low hum of voices wafted from the parlor, where her mother and father enjoyed their tea with Lord and Lady Wintham, all of whom were unaware of the impropriety going on in the closet.
A moment later Adelaide was joined by Freesia.
“I couldn’t find them anywhere,” she whispered. “Do you think they escaped to the garden?”
“No,” Adelaide said.
Freesia frowned. “Where— Ah, here they are now.”
Adelaide turned slowly.
And there was her dear sister, looking flushed and rumpled. Her dress was wrinkled, her curls askew, her mouth red and swollen. But it was the happiness in her eyes, the sated smile on her lips, that turned Adelaide’s belly to lead.
Alice, Adelaide knew with dead certainty, would not be abandoned by her lover. She would not find herself with child and without a husband. No, those misfortunes would not touch her, for Alice was deeply, thoroughly, wholeheartedly, unbearably loved.
And Adelaide hated her.
She picked up a piece of cake.