Chapter Five
Twenty minutes later, Adelaide found herself wrapped in a blanket, a lovely cup of tea in her hands. She was in Alice’s room, sitting next to her twin on the settee. Alice hadn’t let go of her since the first embrace and even now kept tugging her closer, as though her sister required physical assurance that she was not a ghost. Adelaide was practically sitting on her lap.
That was what came of letting one’s twin believe one was dead.
A maid poured hot water into the copper bath that had been dragged into the room. The steam rose in thick, white curls, and Adelaide shivered eagerly. Even with the blanket and tea, her chill had not completely dissipated.
“Do you need anything further, miss?” the maid asked.
“I’ll take care of her from here,” Alice said. The maid curtsied and left. Alice took the cup from Adelaide’s trembling fingers and set it on the table. “In you go.”
Adelaide stood, letting the blanket fall to her feet. Her nakedness did not embarrass her—it was only Alice, after all—yet she instinctively covered her belly with her hands as she stepped into the tub. They were identical no longer.
Alice knelt next to her. “Let me brush the tangles from your hair, dear. Then I’ll wash it.”
Adelaide was too tired and hungry to do more than nod her acquiescence. She sank deep into the wonderfully hot water. Her fingers and toes tingled painfully as they came back to life.
“Let’s not wake Aunt Bea, shall we?” Alice suggested. She stroked the brush lightly over Adelaide’s tangled black curls. “There is nothing she can do right now. Our parents are already en route to London, so they need not be notified. Aunt Bea will have a great many questions. Questions in the middle of the night are such bothersome things. Explanations are best left to morning, don’t you think?”
Yes, indeed. Adelaide scooted deeper into the tub. Stroke, stroke, stroke went the brush. It soothed some of the rawness in her heart. For a moment, she let her eyes drift closed.
Our parents are already en route.
Her eyes popped open again.
“Our parents are coming here?” she cried. “Why?”
“To meet my future husband, naturally.”
Oh, yes, that. Adelaide had heard the maids at the inn whispering about Alice’s engagement to Lord Abingdon, heir to the Earl of Wintham…and Nick’s older brother. Older in the same sense that Adelaide was older than Alice. That was, by minutes.
Alice continued to brush her hair, but Adelaide no longer felt soothed.
“Adelaide,” Alice said softly. “Our parents love you.”
“When I told Father I was with child, he couldn’t even look at me. And then they sent me away.” She gave the bathwater a vicious slap, sending droplets arcing into the air. “They sent me to France.”
“The war had just ended. Everyone wanted to go to France.”
Adelaide turned and gave her an incredulous look.
Alice bit her lip. “You’re right. It was a terrible thing to do,” she conceded.
“Tell me the truth,” Adelaide said. “When they learned I did not survive the birth, they were just the tiniest bit relieved, weren’t they?”
“No, they most certainly were not,” Alice said firmly.
Adelaide sighed. Her sister would never understand. Alice had always been impetuous, sliding in and out of scrapes with appalling ease. If she had found herself with child and no husband, their father would likely have said, “Oh, Alice,” much the same as when she had accidentally set fire to the church. One would almost expect such a catastrophe from Alice. But not Adelaide. Never Adelaide. Her fall from grace was unbearable, in part because she’d had so much farther to fall.
Alice soaped her hair into a lather. Again Adelaide’s eyes closed. It felt so good to be cared for…even though she didn’t deserve it.
“You shouldn’t be kind to me,” she murmured. “I’ve been so very wicked.”
“Oh, dear.” There was a smile in her sister’s voice that baffled Adelaide. “What heinous crime have you committed lately, sister of mine?”
I set a trap for your future husband because I mistook him for my lover. Perhaps that was better left unsaid. Lord Abingdon had fallen into a hole and injured his ankle. But he’d survived, hadn’t he?
“I shot Nick tonight.” When Alice’s hands froze on her hair, she added hastily, “Only a very little bit. It was nothing more than a scratch.”
Alice burst into laughter. “Did you really? How delightful.”
“Will Lord Abingdon be very angry with me, do you think?”
“Leave Nathaniel to me.” Alice held out a large towel and she stepped into it, allowing her sister to wrap her up.
“And our parents?” A flannel night rail was slid over her arms.
“We will decide what to tell them in the morning. Don’t worry about that tonight.” She guided Adelaide toward the bed. “You have been through so much, dear, but you’re safe now. I’ll take care of everything.”
Adelaide snuggled down under the blankets. She was so very tired.
I’ll take care of everything.
That, she thought sleepily, was a very good idea.
If only Alice could save her from Nick.