Chapter 12
“Two men are getting out of the carriage,” Christina called to Alice and her mother, who were waiting in the parlor pretending not to be sitting on the edge of their seats in anticipation of the earl’s arrival. “I cannot see them at all through the rain. They have an umbrella hiding them. Were you expecting two gentlemen, Mama?”
“I was not,” Elda said, and it was clear to Alice that she was slightly alarmed. Rising, she opened the door and caught the attention of a footman, instructing him to tell Mrs. Godfrey there would be an additional person for luncheon. “There, that’s settled. I do hope Mrs. Godfrey isn’t too upset. It is only one addition.”
“I’m certain she will handle the news with aplomb, Mama,” Alice said. “I do wonder who he has brought.”
“The more the merrier,” Northrup said, in the exaggerated cheerfulness he’d adopted since his arrival. He was being extremely solicitous to Alice, and was so agreeable it was difficult to remain angry with him. Still, Alice found herself resisting him and could only blame her new feelings for Henderson. Northrup had kissed her a few times, and had very nearly gotten carried away on one occasion (for which he’d profusely apologized), but his kisses did not nearly elicit the passion that Henderson’s had. Just thinking about it—which she did more than she should—would cause her entire body to heat. It made her want to find that wonderful release she’d found with Henderson, and longing, a subtle pressure between her legs, had her pressing her limbs together far too often. And that left her aching for more.
The butler entered and announced their visitors with solemn dignity. “His Lordship the Earl of Berkley and Mr. Southwell, madam.”
Alice, who had been trying to look pointedly uninterested, for she didn’t want to encourage her mother at all in trying to push her toward the earl, snapped her head up. Henderson, the rascal, smiled broadly, first at her mother and then at her. With narrowed eyes, Alice tried in vain to stop her heart from picking up a beat and her lips from tilting up at the corners. Henderson would know, of course, that despite her mock anger, she was entirely too pleased to see him at Tregrennar again.
“A pleasure, Lord Berkley, Mr. Southwell,” Elda said, giving a slight disapproving emphasis to Henderson’s name. “I would like to offer my condolences on the loss of your father.”
Berkley nodded. “Thank you, my lady.”
“I hadn’t realized you were acquainted with Mr. Southwell, my lord.”
“I met Mr. Southwell only recently when he approached me regarding the famine relief.” Alice tore her gaze away from Henderson to look at Lord Berkley, who epitomized elegance and wealth. Berkley was tall and lean, with thick dark hair pushed back from a strong forehead, lined by worry or time, Alice wasn’t certain which. He was handsome, true, but Alice did not care for the arrogant way he looked at those in the room, nor for his lazy smile, which exuded confidence and privilege. It was almost as if he were playing some secret joke on everyone and he was the only one who knew.
“Oh, yes. Of course. I recall now you were on Mr. Southwell’s list.”
“I rather think it was my father who was on that list, but I shall do what I can for the relief. Mr. Southwell is quite passionate and has convinced me to join his efforts.”
“As have I,” Lord Northrup said, and for some reason, he sounded overloud, like a child who wants to be noticed.
Elda turned a startled gaze his way, as if she’d quite forgotten Northrup was in the room. That did not bode well for her efforts to deter her mother’s efforts toward Lord Berkley, Alice thought morosely. Lord Berkley was precisely the sort of man her mother would love for her to marry—wealthy and with a prestigious title that any mother would adore for her daughter.
“Of course. It is so good to see you again, Mr. Southwell.”
“It has been ages, my lady,” Henderson said on a laugh. Alice watched, delighted, as her mother couldn’t stop her smile. No matter that her father had rudely asked him to leave, Alice knew her mother was pleased to have Henderson beneath her roof again despite her effort to appear otherwise.
“Mr. Southwell is a particular friend of the family,” Elda said. “Did you know this, my lord?”
“Indeed I did,” he said, and Alice could swear he darted her a quick look. For some reason, that look made her blush. “Mr. Southwell has mentioned how he spent many happy summers here as a youth. I am glad I was able to convince him to come today.”
“And did he need convincing?” Alice asked, unable to stop herself.
“As a matter of fact, he did. I fear I am not a social creature, and having Mr. Southwell along makes it much easier to walk into a home of virtual strangers. I know I visited here as a youth, but it is so long ago, I feared you might have forgotten me.” He smiled easily at her mother, and Alice could see she was falling under Berkley’s spell. Berkley hardly seemed the sort of man who would be anxious about paying a local family a visit, and she wondered why he would say such a thing? Had Henderson somehow begged an invitation?
The women sat together on a long settee and the men followed and found seats as well, Henderson and Berkley choosing two wingbacked chairs that faced them and Northrup pulling another chair into the group. Alice couldn’t help but notice that Henderson, for all his easy grins, seemed slightly nervous; he kept darting looks to the door as if he expected someone to come remove him from the room. Likely her father, Alice thought darkly. Her father was expected to join them for luncheon, and Alice did wonder at the reaction he would have when he saw Henderson at the table. No doubt he would be as displeased as she was pleased.
“You father was a frequent guest at Tregrennar,” Elda said. “And of course I recall you, as well. You entertained us by playing the piano, if I remember.”
Berkley’s smile grew tight, as if it were not a pleasant memory. “Ah, yes. I played with great determination and little talent, as I recall.”
Elda let out a small, uncertain, laugh. Alice felt sorry for her mother, for it was difficult to know when Lord Berkley was joking or being ironic or simply contrary. He turned to Henderson and asked, “Do you play the piano?”
Henderson shook his head. “The violin.”
“What?” Alice could not stop that exclamation from erupting, unladylike, from her mouth. “How do we not know this?”
He shrugged. “I suppose you never asked. And I did not bring my violin out when I was here.”
“Why ever not?” Elda asked. “You and Joseph could have played together.” She turned to Lord Berkley. “My late son was an enthusiastic piano player.”
“I have never played in front of an audience, much to my teacher’s dismay. I tried to once and froze, still as a statue, then burst into humiliating tears. It was the Von Hausen competition and my teacher gave up on me, then and there. I was twelve and far too old for such an emotional display, according to him.”
“The Von Hausen competition?” Alice looked at this man whom she thought she knew better than any other and could not believe he had kept such a secret from them all. If he had been selected to perform at that competition at such a young age, he must be a master at the instrument.
“I suppose I didn’t want any of you to treat me differently. If you knew, you might have insisted I play for you and I don’t know if I could have.”
Henderson fairly squirmed beneath everyone’s astonished stares, until Lord Berkley turned to Lord Northrup, and asked, “Do you play an instrument, Northrup?”
“I sing.”
Badly, Alice thought, but gave him an encouraging smile. He was her almost-fiancé, after all.
“We’ll have to hear you some time,” Berkley said, sounding completely uninterested. “And what brings you to St. Ives, Northrup? This hardly seems the place for such a cosmopolitan fellow as yourself.”
Northrup’s cheeks turned ruddy. “I am a guest of the Hubbards.”
“How very charitable of them,” he said blandly, and Henderson gave him a look that could only be described as a warning.
“It is hardly charity to have the man who plans to marry your daughter as a guest,” Northrup said with a small sniff.
“My felicitations,” Berkley said, turning his dark gaze toward her. Alice could not tell if his eyes were brown or a very dark blue, but either way, having them pinned on her was disconcerting.
“Lord Northrup misspoke.” Elda looked nervously from Northrup to Berkley. “They are not officially engaged.” Knowing her mother was vying for Berkley did not lessen Alice’s gratitude for her mother saying those words aloud. She’d feared her parents had come to the forgone conclusion that she and Northrup would marry.
“We were engaged,” Alice said feeling a bit of a devil for saying that aloud.
“But Northrup failed to appear at the church.” Henderson, who had seemed nervous not ten minutes before, now seemed to be having a bit too much fun. “He’s here to win his lady back.”
“Indeed?” Berkley asked, giving Northrup an assessing look.
“This is a private affair,” Northrup said, clearly annoyed by this turn of the conversation.
“Actually, it was in the newspaper.” Biting her lip to stop from laughing at Christina’s comment, Alice gave her sister a look that begged her to stop. She might have known Christina would ignore her. “The newspapers, well, one newspaper, called Alice the bad—”
“Chris-tina,” Elda said.
“The newspaper called me the bad luck bride. You see, I’ve been engaged to three different fellows and, as you can see, I remain unmarried.”
“Do we need to discuss this?” Northrup asked tightly. “There are much more pleasant topics we can explore.”
“Like murder.”
Alice froze at her sister’s words. She had promised not to bring up murder in front of Lord Berkley, but had done so anyway. One look at her mother, and Alice knew Christina might not see the outside of her room for a month.
“Murder?” Berkley asked silkily.
Christina looked at her mother in confusion; then her face paled—no doubt as she remembered that she was sitting in the room with a man who had once been accused of murder and she had promised her father not to discuss it. “Yes, poor Mr. Turner. Some are saying he was murdered because it appears he’d been stabbed. In the back.”
“Oh. Mr. Turner,” Elda said, nearly sagging with relief. “So sad. Are they really saying it could be murder? Where did you hear such a thing?”
“Martha’s second cousin’s brother works in the mortuary.”
“Martha shouldn’t go around telling such tales. And you, young lady, should not repeat them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Christina dipped her head, pretending shame. “But I heard the same from Patricia Ellsberry.” Christina turned toward the men. “Her father is a physician.”
“That would be a horrible thing, indeed,” Elda said. “I cannot imagine anyone who would want to kill Mr. Turner. He was such a pleasant young man.”
Alice happened to look at Henderson at that moment and saw something flicker in his eyes, as he no doubt recalled their meeting just prior to his death.
“Mr. Southwell was one of the last people to see Mr. Turner alive.” Alice looked at Northrup with disbelief, not so much at what he’d said but rather how he’d said it, as if Henderson could somehow be the murderer.
“Indeed I was, my lord,” Henderson said. “He was a good friend and I’m glad I was able to spend some time with him before this happened.”
“I’m certain you were,” Northrup said apologetically, as if realizing how awful he sounded. He cast a look toward Alice and she had a feeling he was trying to gauge whether she was angry with him or not. He brightened markedly when her father entered the room. “Lord Hubbard.”
The men rose, and her father immediately started toward Lord Berkley, hesitating only briefly when he realized Henderson was standing next to him. “I do apologize for not being here when you arrived,” he said, shaking the other man’s hand before turning to Henderson and nodding. “Mr. Southwell, a pleasure.”
“Indeed,” Henderson said.
“I insisted Mr. Southwell accompany me,” Lord Berkley said. “I do hope you do not mind my bringing along a guest.”
“Of course not,” Richard said warmly. “Mr. Southwell is always welcome here.”
Moments later, their butler announced luncheon was served, and as the group headed to the dining room, Alice trailed slightly behind. She wasn’t certain what was going on, why Henderson was here or why Lord Berkley seemed to have taken an immediate dislike to Northrup. For his part, Northrup appeared to be out of sorts, as if the world had tilted a bit on its axis, leaving him out of balance.
During luncheon, Berkley regaled them with stories of America, much to Christina’s delight, and Alice noticed how many times the earl brought Henderson into the conversation whilst completely ignoring Lord Northrup. Her father appeared almost smitten with Berkley and her mother was looking at the earl as if she’d never seen such a paragon of manhood in her life. This all would have boded ill, thought Alice, if it hadn’t been so very apparent—at least to her—why Berkley was here and why he’d brought Henderson along with him. It appeared to her that Henderson had gained himself a powerful and charming ally.
After they’d finished dining, Lord Northrup, who was seated next to her, leaned over and quietly asked Alice if she might like to take a turn in the garden.
“Why don’t we all go?” Lord Berkley said, and Alice nearly laughed aloud, for it was clear to her that Northrup had lowered his voice so that no one else could hear the request. What fine hearing the man had. “It’s a lovely day and I have heard your grounds are well-maintained. I’m going to be making some changes at Costille, and I would like to hear your thoughts, my lady.”
With that, Alice’s mother was completely won over and Alice had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. If Berkley had heard a single syllable about their garden, she would be fully shocked. Northrup, on the other hand, was having a difficult time hiding his annoyance, and Alice gave him a look of understanding. “Another time,” she whispered.
* * *
As the group headed en masse to the garden, Alice on Northrup’s arm, she was intensely aware of Henderson following just behind them. Lord Berkley was completely engaging her parents, and Alice could see Northrup was nearly in fits trying to hear what they were talking about. Every time either of her parents laughed, he would stiffen and let out a small puff of air.
“I fear I cannot have Lord Berkley monopolize your parents so thoroughly, my dear. If you’ll forgive me.” And with that, he dropped her hand and picked up his pace so that he was part of the group containing her parents. Berkley welcomed him with such enthusiasm, Alice’s suspicions were only confirmed. She was left standing alone for approximately three seconds before she found herself next to Henderson, her face red from embarrassment. Or pleasure. Just, she was certain, as Berkley had intended.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered. “And do not tell me it was to have luncheon or I shall strangle you.”
“I came to win your heart,” he said lightly.
“You already have my heart,” she said grumpily.
“Then I am here to win your mother and father’s hearts.”
Alice stopped abruptly, her eyes on the small group in front of them being so entertained by Lord Berkley, they were unaware the two of them were lagging behind. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want to court you. I don’t want you to marry Lord Northrup. I want you to marry me, instead.”
The way he said it, as if he were telling her he was planning to order beef for supper, was quite maddening. “Do you.”
“Indeed I do. And someday I will be able to tell you precisely why marrying anyone other than me would be a colossal mistake.”
She snorted. “Then it’s a good thing you told me now, after three failed weddings. Goodness sakes, Henny, are you mad? When did this grand revelation occur to you? After…” She couldn’t finish the sentence; it was too mortifying. “My God, is that what this about? You feel guilty about the other evening?”
He looked affronted, which made Alice even angrier. What else was she to think? In all their lives he’d never looked at her with anything but brotherly affection. All those hours in the library, when she was dreaming about him falling in love, he’d remained the perfect gentleman. Never had she had one inkling that he saw her as anything but a little girl. Yes, they had gotten carried away the other night, and yes, Henderson had seemed to enjoy the moment, but she had practically thrown herself at him. She had gone into his room half naked. What healthy man would have turned away a woman who acted like such a wanton?
He took a few steps away, then jerked his head for her to follow him. The party in front of them laughed at something Lord Berkley said, and Alice ground her teeth together. It was clear to her that Henderson had somehow recruited his lordship into helping his cause and she prayed Berkley didn’t know the entire sordid story.
“I want to court you because I love you. I have loved you, as a matter of fact, for years.”
Alice narrowed her eyes, but her heart gave a painful twist. “I don’t believe you. You left.”
His eyes flickered briefly, darkly. “I know. I shouldn’t have. I have so much to explain to you.” He darted a look to the others. “I fear I shall never have the opportunity. But I want you to know that I am not giving up.” He grinned and her heart sang. “Fair warning.”
Alice wanted nothing more than to kiss that grin off his face. She looked over to where Lord Berkley was still entertaining his audience. “He is your partner in crime, isn’t he?”
“I haven’t a clue what you mean,” he said, but it was obvious that he did. “Shall we join the others? Your father has already given me two scathing looks and I am treading in dangerous waters as it is after being thrown out of your house.”
“You were not thrown out.” He lifted a brow. “It was strongly hinted that you should leave only because it was clear Lord Northrup was upset. But I daresay, with Lord Berkley suddenly expressing interest in me, poor Northrup will soon fall out of favor. He’s not really interested, is he?”
“No.” And then he said the sweetest thing. “That…doesn’t bother you, does it?”
“Would you step aside if I was interested in him?”
“Not in a million years.” And just before they reached the other group, he said, “I really did come to stop the wedding, you know.” Then he turned and jogged ahead, leaving her to stare in disbelief at his retreating back.
* * *
Now that Henderson had made his declaration, the sense of panic he felt at the thought of losing Alice forever only grew, until it felt like a living thing inside his gut. Every time she looked at Lord Northrup, laughed at something he said, or gave him a look of understanding, Henderson wanted to carry her away like some primitive man. Instead, he had to suffer their looks, Northrup’s proprietary manner, as if it were a forgone conclusion that they were to be married.
It did not escape his attention that the Hubbards were assessing Berkley as a possible son-in-law. They never looked at him in that light, never gave him the assessing look Lord Hubbard was now giving the earl as Berkley commented on a particularly good example of Lady Hubbard’s prized roses. Alice’s hand was now firmly tucked in the crook of Northrup’s arm and Henderson had a feeling he would not be able to drag her away from the determined man. What made it almost worse was that Northrup had dismissed him as a rival and was completely centering his attention on Berkley, who had absolutely no interest in Alice. Thank God. For if he had, Henderson was quite certain he would never have Alice for himself. The Hubbards were just that smitten. Berkley had an ease about him, a confidence that he was likely born with.
For her part, Alice was pointedly ignoring him, and Henderson did not know if this was a good thing or bad.
“Mr. Southwell.” Henderson looked down to see Christina standing next to him and wondered how long she’d been there and if she’d noticed how intensely he’d been staring at her sister. “Is it true you saw Mr. Turner just before he died?” She’d lowered her voice so no one but he could hear her question.
“I don’t know that it was directly prior, but I saw him that night, yes.”
Christina chewed her lip a bit. “When I was very little, before you were Joseph’s friend, my brother had a group of friends. We would all go to the beach and they would ride the waves in. I used to wish I were a boy and older so I could play with them. Boys seemed to have so much more fun than girls.” She looked over to where her parents were, still engaged in conversation with Lord Berkley. “They’re all dead.”
Henderson looked sharply at Christina. “What do you mean?”
“All of them. Joseph, Tristan Cummings, and now Sebastian. And Peter before that. He was the first.”
“Peter?”
“Peter Jeffreys. He died before you met Joseph, I believe. Don’t you think that’s odd? That all of them who were friends are dead? I was thinking about that last night, and it occurred to me that it seems an unlikely coincidence.”
“Indeed,” Henderson said, his brow furrowed.
Christina gave him a small smile, as if glad he was taking her seriously. “Once I realized that, I started wondering why. Why would someone kill them all, if indeed they were all murdered? Joseph’s death was an accident so perhaps I’m just being silly. Still…”
“You are not being silly,” Henderson said, his voice low. “I came to very much the same conclusion not long ago, but I couldn’t make sense of it either. And Joseph’s death doesn’t seem to fit. He did fall from the roof.” Henderson turned away from the group, and dipped his head. “Was Mr. Grant part of that group of boys, Christina?”
“Gerald Grant? No, not that I recall. Why do you ask?”
Henderson shrugged. “No reason. Only that he was one of the lads there the night Joseph died. He’s the one who told me what happened. And everyone else who was there that night is dead.”
Christina’s eyes grew wide. “Do you think he’s the murderer?” she whispered, clearly excited by the prospect.
Henderson chuckled, but felt a twinge of unease.
“That means he could have killed four people. Four.” Her eyes were wide with the excitement of it all.
“Highly unlikely. And what possible reason would he have for killing even one of them? I think it’s important not to start spreading such rumors, my girl. Every single one of those men died in an accident. Only Mr. Turner, if what you say is true about his being stabbed, appears to have met his demise through foul means.”
“True,” Christina said reluctantly, and Henderson let out a small chuckle at her disappointment. Alice’s younger sister was quite bloodthirsty. Suddenly she grasped his arm. “You’re the only one left,” she said. “Oh, Mr. Southwell, what if you are in danger?”
That very thought had crossed Henderson’s mind, but he had no intention of sharing it with this young woman. “If what you say is true, and Peter Jeffreys was the first victim of our murderer, then I would not be part of that group.”
“But you became part of it,” she pointed out.
That thought had crossed Henderson’s mind as well. Perhaps, he thought, he should visit Gerald Grant and see if he could sense any madness in the man. For only a madman could systematically kill four men.
“Mr. Southwell.” It was Lord Berkley calling him over to join their group. Was that a look of annoyance in Lord Hubbard’s eye? Such slights, small as they were, hurt. He’d always thought of Richard as a sort of surrogate father, and when he’d been younger, he’d actually daydreamed about what it would be like to be part of Joseph’s family. To think all those years Richard had only been indulging his elder son was like a punch to his gut—that painful and that nauseating.
Henderson had no idea what Berkley’s plan was, but it was becoming more obvious by the moment. He was making certain Lord Hubbard was aware they were friends (which they were) and that Berkley thought of him as an equal (which they were most decidedly not). Henderson didn’t have the first idea why Berkley was taking him under his aristocratic wing. Joseph had always said Henderson had a way about him that put others at ease, and Henderson had accumulated quite a few highly placed friends over the years. When he’d sailed from India, he’d left behind a large group of men who were as passionate as he about famine relief. The fact they’d elected him to return to England to garner support for their efforts had been as humbling as it had been precipitous, given the timing of Alice’s ill-fated wedding.
Alice laughed at something Northrup said, and Henderson again felt that sense of panic, that he was too late, mingling with the growing realization that he was not enough. Her former fiancés had all been titled (or at least the family had believed this to be the case), all from well-respected and prestigious families. He was the bastard of a country girl, a man who’d been lucky enough to have kind and well-to-do grandparents. Many others like him had ended up in orphanages or worse.
Henderson stepped into the circle, wishing he felt more that he belonged. Glancing briefly at the proprietary grasp Northrup had on Alice’s gloved hand, Henderson forced himself to smile as if he hadn’t a care in the world, as if he hadn’t just proclaimed his love for a woman who was standing with another man.
“You beckoned,” Henderson said, giving Berkley an easy and mocking bow.
“I did. I’ve been telling the Hubbards about my adventures in America and the opportunity there. I would be remiss if I didn’t include you in the conversation, given your superior negotiating skills.” Henderson suppressed the temptation to roll his eyes at what he deemed an obvious attempt to build him up in the eyes of the Hubbards. Berkley knew nothing of his negotiating skills, nor any other skill, truth be told. “Mine are woefully inadequate and it occurred to me that you and Lord Hubbard could assist me in gaining more investors. Rails, you know. Steel. The very things titled gentlemen like ourselves are not allowed to discuss but are allowed to benefit from.”
Northrup, who must have noticed his name had been omitted, perked up and darted a look at the Hubbards before saying, “As gauche as it is, I have some experience in investing.”
Berkley gave him what could only be described as an indulgent smile, the type a parent gives a child who has just boasted about some unfounded talent. “I’m happy to hear your thoughts as well, Northrup. Of course.” Then he turned back to Henderson and proceeded to pepper him with questions, which thankfully Henderson, who actually did have a talent for investing, easily answered. It didn’t escape Henderson, as the three men, with Northrup hovering in the periphery, got deep into the discussion, that Lord Hubbard began to give him a series of thoughtful looks.
“I hadn’t realized you were so well-schooled in investment,” Lord Hubbard said finally. “I suppose I assumed you were in India working solely on the famine relief.”
“While I have become involved in relief, my lord, I fear business is what initially sent me to India. It was those very investments that have made me so concerned about the famine. India is an excellent education, I assure you, in both the good and the ills that come from progress.”
“Enough about business,” Lord Northrup announced. “I fear the ladies are growing bored with all our talk of numbers and such.” The ladies in question were not even within range of hearing, and Henderson guessed it was actually Northrup who was bored.
“I would expect, Northrup, that you would be particularly interested in such a discussion, given your financial state,” Lord Berkley said without inflection. It was an unforgivable thing to say in public, particularly in front of the father of the woman a man hoped to marry, but Berkley held his bland smile even when Lord Hubbard gave him an outraged look. My God, Henderson hadn’t known he’d had such a brilliant ally in Berkley until that very moment. Why he’d decided to help him, Henderson couldn’t say. He only knew he planned to make certain Lord Berkley was aware of his gratitude.
“I say, Berkley, that was not well done,” Lord Hubbard said.
Lord Berkley looked slightly shocked to be called out on his rudeness. “I do apologize, Northrup. I had no idea it wasn’t common knowledge. I fear I’ve spent far too much time in America. Such discussions of financial failures are quite common over there. Why, men brag about how much money they’ve lost gambling. It’s almost a badge of honor.”
“Sir!” Hubbard said, clearly appalled.
To which Berkley gave another confused look. “I was apologizing,” he said, sounding contrite and slightly perplexed at Lord Hubbard’s continued censure.
“I can assure you, my lord,” Northrup hastened to say, “I have incurred no debt.”
“Not recently,” Lord Berkley said silkily, and Northrup’s cheeks turned ruddy.
And that was when Lord Hubbard seemed to realize that Berkley wasn’t being uncouth, but rather crafty in his revelation of Northrup’s financial state. Henderson saw the moment irritation became begrudging respect for Berkley’s behavior, as Lord Hubbard narrowed his eyes and gave Berkley an assessing look. Henderson could almost see Lord Hubbard’s thoughts forming, that Lord Berkley was actually helping to save his daughter from a man who was in financial difficulty, that he should be grateful for the information even if it had been delivered a bit discourteously.
Northrup turned to Lord Hubbard, his expression slightly panicked. “Lord Hubbard, I can assure you—”
“No need,” Hubbard said, holding up his hand to stop Northrup’s entreaty. “There’s not a man among us who hasn’t incurred some sort of debt.” He smiled at the younger man, but Henderson noted the smile could only be described as grim, and for the first time, Henderson believed he might actually have a shot at marrying Alice.
* * *
After Henderson and Lord Berkley left, her father and Northrup were unusually quiet at dinner, and Alice couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be a tension between the two men. Where before the two would exchange droll stories about this or that acquaintance, on this night they were strangely silent.
“What did you think of Lord Berkley?” Elda asked to no one in particular.
“I didn’t care for the man.” This from Northrup at the very same moment Richard said, “I found him enlightening.”
Elda laughed. “Now those are two very different assessments.”
“I think he was hiding a deep intelligence behind his charm.” The look on Alice’s father’s face was priceless after Christina made this pronouncement. It was almost as if he had never realized how very perceptive his younger daughter was.
“Indeed?”
Christina looked slightly embarrassed to be the focus of Richard’s attention. “I sensed that behind everything he said there was some deeper meaning, something we were not privy to. Not disingenuousness,” she said thoughtfully, trying to come up with an explanation for her assessment. “Rather as if he were trying to hide just how intelligent he is. Though I cannot imagine why.”
“Perhaps he simply isn’t intelligent,” Northrup said on a laugh, and Alice felt a twinge of pity for him. It had been clear throughout the afternoon that her parents were enthralled with Lord Berkley. It would be a difficult task for any man to be noticed when Berkley was in the room. Which made it even more perplexing why Alice’s attention throughout the day had been on Henderson.
Every time he laughed, each time he moved near her, her face grew warm and she felt a thrill go through her. With all of Berkley’s charms, it was Henderson who seemed to have some sort of hold over her. It was almost as if sharing that incredibly intimate night with him had somehow created a bond between them. Even now, even with Henderson back at his hotel, she could feel the pull. Had some sort of spell been cast on her that night, turning her into the wanton creature that sat with her family and almost-fiancé at the dinner table but could only think about what it felt like when Henderson had kissed her breast? Could only fantasize about a way it would be possible for that to happen again?
“What did you think of Lord Berkley, Alice?” Elda asked pointedly, ignoring the small intake of breath from Northrup. In that moment Elda had declared her preference, and Northrup was keenly aware of it.
“I thought him quite charming and very handsome and not in the least someone whom I would like to know better,” Alice said with what she thought would put a final period on the story her mother was creating in her mind, a story that ended with her marrying Lord Berkley.
Northrup gave her a small smile of gratitude—or was it smugness?—and Alice took a large bite of roasted pork, ignoring her mother’s frown.
Elda sighed and returned her attention to her meal. The five of them ate in silence for a time before Christina nearly had her choking on her meal.
“I like Mr. Southwell much better than Lord Berkley. I’d forgotten how nice and kind he is. A shame he doesn’t have a title.”
“Or a father,” Northrup said under his breath but loud enough for all at the table to hear.
“Of course he has a father,” Christina said. “Everyone has a father.”
“Can we not discuss this at the dinner table,” Richard said.
Christina looked around the table, unaware that she had stirred up a conversation that innocent ears should never hear. “Why is Henderson’s father not a proper subject of discussion? Oh, was he a bad man?”
“I don’t believe Henderson knows who his father is,” Northrup said, jumping slightly when Richard slammed down his fork. “I apologize, it’s just that I don’t understand why he is allowed in our company, nor why Lord Berkley has apparently taken such a liking to the man.”
Alice could tell Christina was about to launch into a staunch defense of Henderson, so she spoke up to end the conversation. “I will explain to Christina later, if you will allow it, Mother.”
“Please be circumspect, Alice.”
“Of course.” Then turning to Northrup, Alice said, trying to keep the emotion she felt out of her voice, “Henderson has been part of this family for years. I know it is difficult for you to understand, but please respect our choice of whom we associate with.” Her tone was calm and gentle, but inside she was fighting a terrible urge to lose her temper. She understood Northrup’s concerns and his prejudice. Very few families, if they knew of his birth, would allow someone like Henderson into their home as a guest, and she had always been so proud of her family for ignoring social mores and treating Henderson as an equal. In her mind, he was not only equal, he was superior to them all. Henderson was all that was kind and good and she would breathe her last making certain everyone knew it.