Heartbreak and Honor (8 page)

“In layman’s terms, if you please, dearest.” Aunt Bridget’s sweet smile tempered her admonishment.

Hugo grinned, his mustache twitching. “The law recognizes Alexandra is alive.”

“How astute since she’s breathing and walking about.” Her aunt’s droll reply lacked sincere humor.

“Rather unpleasant for them, all this, don’t you think?” Alexandra looked between her aunt and uncle. “I cannot help but feel compassion, and an iota of guilt, for causing their plight.”

“They’ve been provided for, Alexandra. Mama says Uncle Steafan was a generous, kind-hearted man. They have not gone without.” Katrina slipped her hand into Alexandra’s.

“You’ve nothing to feel guilty about,” Aunt Bridget reassured Alexandra. “We’re overjoyed you’ve returned to us unharmed. It’s nothing short of an answer to prayer . . . A miracle, in truth.”

“Alexandra, your parents called you Alexa. How would you prefer we address you?” Gazing at her expectantly, Uncle Hugo brushed a finger across either side of his mustache.

Clever fellow. He’d successfully changed the subject to something less troublesome. A plain man, except for his warm, chestnut eyes, he exuded patience and kindness. Not characteristics one typically expected from a successful banker.

Her aunt and Katrina wore eager expressions too. His ploy had worked.

“Truthfully, I’m having a difficult time answering to Alexandra.” She rolled a shoulder and gave a short laugh. “I answered to Tasara for so many years, it is hard to stop thinking of myself by that name. Alexa sounds more like Tasara—”

“Alexa it is then.” Uncle Hugo smiled and winked. “I supposed as much.”

“I imagine this is overwhelming.” Katrina pressed Alexa’s hand and tilted her bonneted head indicating the house they approached. “Perhaps a little frightening, too.”

Katrina hit the mark square on. More than a little frightening, however. Outright terrifying, in a good, adventurous sort of way. Everything was unfamiliar and new.

Alexa closed her eyes for a moment.

I’d rather be traveling with the tinkers. At least I know who I am with them.

She breathed out a silent sigh. No sense reminiscing or wishing for what couldn’t be. Destiny plopped her here, and she’d make the best of her good fortune. That’s what travellers did.

The coach turned onto the manor’s long, immaculate pathway, and her stomach constricted. A stepmother and young woman awaited her arrival. Friends or foes?

“Yes, I’m sure it is a bit much to take in, but rest assured, your identity and birthright are irrefutable.” A steely note crept into Aunt Bridget’s tone.

“Indeed.” Uncle Hugo nodded and chucked his wife’s chin. “No need to get your feathers ruffled, my dear. As Steafan’s only issue, Alexa’s claim is indisputable. I’m sure Minerva and Shona will do their best to put her at ease.”

“And don’t forget, she has the locket and doll.” Katrina grinned and patted Alexa’s knee. “Your doll is like mine, except for her attire. I named mine Jane, and her coat is green. She sits atop my bedchamber shelf still.”

Alexa grinned back.

She liked her outgoing, cheerful cousin, and was grateful her aunt insisted Alexa stay with them while in London. She needed a confidante and a friend. Seonaid’s parents had agreed to allow her to visit the Needhams during the Season too. She would arrive at the end of October, and with Katrina and Seonaid as companions, Alexa felt more self-possessed about venturing into society.

“Hugo and I gave Alexa the doll for her second birthday.” Aunt Bridget retied her bonnet’s ribbons then brushed a speck of lint from her whisky-colored skirt. She seemed edgy all of a sudden and exchanged speaking glances with Uncle more than once.

What could Alexa expect at Wedderford Abbey? She lacked her aunt’s and cousin’s sophistication, and her deficiencies in formal education or schooling in niceties proved awkward. Despite Aunt Bridget’s assurance she would tutor Alexa in decorum, qualms still fluttered her belly.

While dining at Craiglocky, she had no idea which fork or spoon to use. Why provide three or four when one sufficed? And why deliver the meal in courses? It created more work for the servants and dragged dining out for hours. Serve the food, eat it in a timely manner, and be done with it, for pity’s sake.

And that was another thing. How could she become accustomed to people waiting on her when she was capable of doing things for herself?

Her first night at Craiglocky, a fresh-faced maid had tried to help her bathe, of all things. Were the privileged so lazy or supercilious they couldn’t soap and scrub their nether regions?

Well, that’s one task I’ll see to myself, thank you.

“I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to have a cousin near my age. Less than four months separate us.” A pout upon her lips, Katrina grasped Alexa’s hand. “Studious older brothers consumed with rows of numbers and calculating figures are no fun at all.”

A hush fell within the coach as the conveyance drew near the manor house. Aunt Bridget told Alexa the Needhams hadn’t been to Wedderford Abbey since the authorities discontinued looking for Alexa a month after she and her nurse had disappeared. Except for finding a doll’s shoe beneath a willow, no other signs were ever uncovered.

Her aunt and uncle had continued searching, even hiring investigators. After two years passed without uncovering another clue, they too, had resigned themselves to Alexa never returning, though Uncle Hugo still placed flyers about Scotland every now and again on the off chance someone might come forth with new information.

With a creak and a jolt, the conveyance rolled to a stop, but no one made an effort to leave the carriage. Nor did Wedderford’s front door swing open in welcome.

Aunt Bridget leaned forward and touched Alexa’s knee. “We shall make this visit short, a day or two at most, to give Minerva and Shona time to adjust to their new positions in the event you choose to reside at Wedderford Abbey after the Season ends. I’m not sure what the marriage settlements between her and Steafan stipulated, but you’re well within your rights to ask them to move to another residence or the dower house if you choose.”

“I think it would be wise to get to know them before I make a decision. I’m sure this has come as a shock.” Alexa looked to her uncle. “Should I be prepared for any opposition?”

His pensive expression didn’t encourage her. “I’ve learned many things in my years as a banker, my dear, one of which is, those with the most to lose or gain are capable of the greatest treachery. My advice is to be on your guard, be watchful, and listen.” He tapped the door with his cane. “In short, be careful whom you trust.”

Chapter 9

The entry, a yawning cavern leading to the unknown, now stood wide open, and a chill juddered from Alexa’s neck to her waist.

Once her identity had been validated, notice had immediately been sent to Wedderford that she lived. What a jolt it must have been to Minerva and Shona—after so long, to discover their monies and everything they thought they owned now belonged to another.

Rather awkward, that business about taking up residence, or asking Minerva and Shona to leave.

By-the-by, seems I’m the rightful heir, although I’ve been gallivanting around the Scottish Highland with black tinkers these past eighteen years. Do take yourselves off now that I’ve returned from the dead.

Proof
?

But of course, I have proof. Want to see my bum
?

Not that Tasa—er . . . Alexa intended to turn anyone out. Wedderford Abbey had been their home long before she arrived. She felt like the intruder, even if the estate and title legally belonged to her. Alexa couldn’t blame her stepmother and sister for acting a mite put upon.

“What if they refuse to believe who I am or accept my claim?” That abeyance business was more than a trifle confusing, but Uncle Hugo promised her the solicitor had everything well in hand.

Aunt Bridget harrumphed and patted her hair one last time. “Not to worry, Alexa. Hugo has everything necessary to prove your identity and rightful position.”

That included a written declaration from a physician attesting to her birthmark—gads, that had been a mortifying examination.
Dat
had provided a sworn statement detailing how and where she’d been found, and her aunt and uncle would give their oaths confirming the kinship, as well as having gifted the doll.

Would that be enough?

Aunt Bridget cast her husband an indirect glance. “Although, I’m sure Minerva will take one look at you, and she’ll know the truth of it as we did. You are the image of Lyette.”

The coach door swung open, and a muscular footman offered a polite smile before lowering the step. Once he assisted the women from the carriage, he hurried to the boot to help another footman with their luggage.

“Let’s be about it then.” Aunt Bridget squared her shoulders and jutted her chin skyward. “Into the dragon’s lair.”

This didn’t bode well. Not at all.

“Just so.” Uncle Hugo gave a mocking growl deep in his throat.

Neither seemed any more excited to enter the house than Alexa. Only Katrina exuded a morsel of anticipation, evident in her fidgeting and sparkling eyes.

No one waited at the entrance except for a ramrod stiff, sober-expression butler. Rather formidable fellow. Highly doubtful his lips had creaked upward in the last two decades. Hmm, make that three. What would he do if Alexa broke into a Highlander’s jig or started singing a bawdy ditty?

As disapproval fairly radiated from the majordomo already, he’d likely expire on the stoop at such antics.

She released a pent-up sigh. What had she expected? Her stepmother and sister to hurtle down the stairs and thank her for disrupting their lives? Nonetheless, a warmer welcome would have been nice.

Did they hide behind the chartreuse velvet-lined windows, glaring daggers at her? The beveled diamond-shaped panes reflected the sun, making it impossible to tell if anyone peeped from within.

Alexa turned and gave her aunt a warm smile. Venturing into this new chapter of her life without their support was unthinkable, and the knife hidden in her belongings was of little use in this situation or in the
ton’s
fashionable drawing rooms.

However, despite Alexa’s reluctance, Aunt Bridget had insisted after a brief visit at Wedderford Abbey, they continue on to London to prepare for the Season.

Season
.
Bother and blast.
Season
.

How in the world would Alexa endure weeks of pretending to be something she wasn’t? For certain, she would say or do something ignorant and stupid.

She didn’t know how to waltz, flirt, apply rouge, or arrange her hair in the latest, complex fashion. She could no more carry on a polite conversation about mundane matters than use a fan or parasol properly. What’s more, she didn’t want to learn those things.

Aunt Bridget nudged Alexa’s elbow. “Come along, my dear. I promise, they won’t bite. If they try, I shall use this on them.”

She wielded Uncle Hugo’s silver walking cane and didn’t appear to be jesting. Hadn’t Uncle mentioned the cane concealed a short sword?

Aunt Bridget adjusted her grip upon the handle.

Definitely
not
a good sign.

Alexa faced the entry once more. Not a spent blossom, twig, or fallen leaf marred the ornate gardens paralleling the house’s sides. Perhaps she’d been allowed to frolic in the manicured lawns as a toddler. Or play hide-and-seek beneath the dangling branches of the willows standing at attention along the drive.

Had her doll’s shoe been found below one of them?

She clasped her hands around her reticule. “I don’t remember any of this.”

“Of course, you don’t.” Katrina swooped in for a sideways hug. “You were scarcely more than a babe. Good heavens, I don’t remember a thing from my early years except a yellow blanket I toted everywhere. Whatever happened to that blanket, Mama?”

She gave her mother an accusing look. Nevertheless, the impish smile teasing her mouth revealed her humor.

“What blanket?” Aunt Bridget regarded her daughter blankly. “Oh, that ratty—” She chuckled. “Never mind.”

Uncle winked and wiggled his mustache before taking Aunt Bridget’s elbow. “Forward ho, my dears. Armor on and swords at the ready?”

Good God
. Just
how
heinous was Minerva Atterberry?

Arms linked, Alexa and Katrina followed her parents. Well, more aptly, Katrina towed a reluctant Alexa up the wide risers. Her stomach tightened, and she swallowed. She’d been braver facing the Blackhalls, for pity’s sake.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Needham.” The butler dipped his head deferentially. He turned his passive gaze on Alexa and Katrina, and a smile of delight erased his intimidating countenance.

Alexa blinked at the transformation.

“Miss Katrina.” He gave her a courtier’s bow. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Katrina bobbed a quick curtsy and gave him a saucy smile. “Thank you, Squires. You’re as tall as I remembered.”

He crooked a black brow. “I should hope so. Wouldn’t do to gradually shrink. Why, in no time, I’d disappear entirely.”

Katrina giggled. “Indeed.”

Squires’s keen gaze assessed Alexa, and his expression softened.

“Miss Atterberry, may I be the first to extend a warm welcome from the staff? They await you in the entry.” He smiled and friendliness sparkled in his hazel eyes. “Our delight at your return cannot be expressed with words.”

Her astonishment at his transformation couldn’t either.

He stepped aside and gestured for them to enter.

Alexa took a deep breath and crossed the threshold into a magnificent entry, half the size of Craiglocky Keep’s great hall.

Good Lord. The place stole the air from her.

Had she slid across the ebony, gray, and white tiled marble floor or hidden behind the towering Grecian pillars and giant potted plants when playing?

What fun a child would have, chasing the myriad of miniature rainbows the crystal chandelier sprinkled atop every surface. The sprawling dual staircase banner tempted one to slide its gleaming mahogany length even as an adult.

A neat row of smiling servants lined one side of the lavish entrance, except for a long-faced middling-aged woman wearing a severe black gown, white cap, and chatelaine—the housekeeper, no doubt.

A rail thin, striking older woman, a pretty, rather plump, sable-haired girl, and a man—who might at one time have been handsome, but a life of dissipation left him paunchy and sallow—huddled on the other side.

Upon Alexa’s entrance, the woman gasped and clutched her throat. Russet-brown eyes wide, a trembling smile touched her mouth.

“Alexandra.” Tears streaming from her eyes, she flew across the floor, her aqua and peach gown floating behind her. She wrapped Alexa in a fragrant embrace.

Alexa’s lashes brushed her cheeks. Rosewater and lemon. Her stepmother always smelt thus.

Minerva leaned away a fraction and gave a trembling smile.

“When I received Mr. Needham’s letter, I was afraid to believe it was true.” She sent him a contrite glance while wiping at her eyes with a lace scrap of cloth she’d retrieved from inside her sleeve. “I thought someone played a horrid, twisted joke, or sought to impersonate you, but . . .” She tenderly touched below Alexa’s right ear. “It’s really you. You have the scar from when you took a tumble from the swing.”

“I remember your perfume, Minerva.” Alexa blurted the first thing that popped into her mind.

Minerva’s smile faltered, but she forced renewed enthusiasm to her upturned lips. “None of that silliness. You must call me Mama like you used to.”

Rather than agree, Alexa sought her aunt. “I used to have dreams of a wonderful smelling woman, and one who liked to sing. Also a green-eyed man.”

Her expression cautious, Aunt Bridget nodded while removing her bonnet. “Lyette had a lovely voice, and your father’s eyes were green.”

“Shona, come meet your half-sister.” Minerva kept an arm about Alexa’s waist and beckoned her daughter.

So, Minerva
was
portraying Shona as an Atterberry.

Rigid disapproval radiated from Aunt Bridget. If she were a cat, she would have arched her back, bared her teeth, and hissed her displeasure.

Alexa slid Uncle Hugo a covert glance.
Now what
?

He gave an almost indiscernible shake of his head and mouthed,
Shh
.

Aunt Bridget’s lips pursed tightly as if she’d recently sucked a lemon, and Katrina’s wide, blue eyes reflected her troubled musings.

With a crooked finger Minerva signaled the man, his hip perched against a table. “Harrison, I’m sure you remember Alexandra.”

“Of course.” His lazy gaze trailed over her.

“He’s my stepbrother, Harrison Peterson,” Minerva offered for Alexa’s benefit. “He came to live here shortly after Steafan’s passing and has been my steward and man of business ever since. I don’t know what I would have done without him all this time.”

Alexa resisted the urge to cover her breasts from his snake-like perusal. An uncle shouldn’t leer so lasciviously.

Mr. Peterson straightened and, with his hand extended, approached Uncle Hugo. “Needham. Haven’t seen you since last Season. At the theater, I believe it was.”

Uncle hesitated for the briefest of moments before clasping Mr. Peterson’s hand. “Yes, quite so.”

“Please call me Harrison, ladies.” Mr. Peterson bowed to the women, belching as he leveled upright. He patted his paunch, the cumbersome lion-head ring on his little finger glinting with the movement. “Pardon me. Too many kippers this morning, I fear.”

Aunt Bridget’s winged eyebrows wrestled with the curls framing her forehead as she snapped her drooping mouth shut.

“Alexandra, your resurrection from the dead has taken us aback, I must say.” Mr. Peterson gave her a thin-lipped smile before focusing on Uncle Hugo once more. “Naturally, we shall need to
see
the proof you claim you possess verifying her identity.”

Someone smothered a gasp.

If Mr. Peterson thought Alexa would bare her behind for him to take a gander at her birthmark, he could munch on fresh horse biscuits.

“You have eyes, don’t you?” Aunt Bridget visually impaled him. “What other proof do you need? Shall we inspect her blood under a microscope? If she’s not Alexandra Atterberry, then you’re a mermaid.”

Shona erupted into giggles but slapped her hand across her mouth and tucked her chin to her chest at her mother’s and uncle’s censured looks.

Alexa busied herself with removing her gloves and bonnet. Tension oozed from everyone, including the servants.

“Many people bear a strong resemblance to each other, as I’m sure you’re well aware, Mrs. Needham.” Harrison’s chilly reply sent a fleeting shudder through Alexa. “We cannot have some beggar or bit o’fluff off the streets impersonating Lady Atterberry, now, can we?”

Cheeks apple-red, Shona choked on another giggle, earning her an inquiring glance from Katrina.

“If you have the evidence you claim, then there is no need for concern, is there?” He smiled, more of sneer than a show of humor, his lecherous gaze ogling, first Alexa’s behind, then Katrina’s.

Reprobate.

He didn’t believe she was Alexandra Atterberry.

“Hush, Harrison.” Releasing a nervous titter, Minerva made a shooing motion with her hand. “There’s time for that disagreeableness later. Right now, I’d like to reacquaint myself with Alexandra.”

Glancing at the assembled servants, Minerva hesitated.

“Must we do this now, Squires, when she’s just arrived? I’m sure Alexandra would rather wait to be introduced to her official duties. They are ever so tedious, after all.” She procured a sunny smile, clearly expecting him to concede.

“Very well,
Dowager
.” Squires gave the merest slant of his head toward the staff. “The
mistress
of Wedderford Abbey will greet you later.”

Did Alexa imagine it, or had he emphasized the titles, and had Minerva’s false cheerfulness faltered a mite?

“Not mistress yet.” Harrison’s face contorted into a scowl which did nothing to enhance his already dour appearance.

“I’m sorry. I do want to make your acquaintance.” Alexa offered the servants an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid I don’t remember any of you.”