Fourth annual Belle birthday crush
July 2, 1820
Woodbury, England
The sun stole into Alice’s room across her pillow, casting warmth on her face. In a hazy fog of dream, she felt a large, warm palm sliding down her cheek, to her neck, to rest just at the top of her chest where it sent pinpricks of sharp, sweet sensation through her. She turned and buried her face in the pillow, struggling to hold on to the feelings for a moment more.
She fought that space between worlds. She could hear footsteps stampeding down the hall. Doors opening and closing. But in her dream, a puff of breath tickled her cheek. She shivered as lips brushed across her own.
She heard her own sighs and wasn’t sure if they were the dream or real. Her legs twisted in the sheets as she tossed and stretched her languid limbs. She felt the press of a male body against hers and bolted up in bed, breathing heavily.
Her fingers clutched the blanket at her waist and a faint sheen of sweat dotted her forehead. She wiped it with the back of her hand. Exhaling, she let her head fall back against her pillow.
She was a year older today—the eldest and most mature of her sisters, as always—but somehow she felt she knew the least about life.
Who had she been dreaming about? There was a faint memory of scent, musky and dark.
Could it have been Lord Savage? Had her focus on marrying him pressed deep into her subconscious? Yet, even now, when she recalled her memories and put his face to the stranger, the match didn’t seem quite right. The dream man’s hands had been larger, rougher than the long, delicate fingers of Damon Cade.
Another memory returned. This one was not of a dream, but of that night when she had consumed more alcohol than she’d ever had in her entire life. A real memory of hot breath and touching skin.
She shot out of bed and rang for her lady’s maid. She was too warm from the sun already and she’d barely awakened. There was much to be done for the birthday celebration, too.
“A bath, please,” she asked when the woman arrived. After a pause—it was an uncharacteristic request for her so early in the morning—the maid whirled to obey. “A cold one, please,” Alice called after her.
The bath must have done its trick because by the time Alice found herself dressed in black and downstairs in the breakfast room with Lord Savage, her body was functioning normally, no flushing or hot flashes to think of. What a relief, she thought.
“Where are you staying in town?” she asked as they stood side by side at the buffet. She took a healthy serving of sausage—who knew whether she’d eat again, with the bustle of the birthday—and in contrast, Lord Savage selected a lone pastry.
“I chose to stay at the Inn.”
“But that’s quite a long ride away.”
They sat not quite across from each other. It was as if he’d chosen a deliberate angle to allow her the most advantageous study of his profile. Sunlight glinted off the chandelier, highlighting his green eyes. The perfect shape of his mouth as he chewed was enough to make her forget the course of their discussion.
He shrugged. “I don’t mind riding.”
“I’m sure the family wouldn’t mind making accommodations for you here.”
“I’m sure they wouldn’t.” He gulped down his tea.
She leaned over the table to pour him another cup. Conversation with Lord Savage had always been a game of chance. At times, he was devilishly charming, and at others, he was as reticent as a monk who’d taken a vow of silence. Perhaps if she had more time to be coy. . . But she did not. Dinah was always early to breakfast and the rest of the family would soon follow, as would Robert. It would be too awkward to make her intentions known with them present.
“You are practically family,” she said. “I’m sure if you were to become family, officially, there would be no remarkable difference.”
His gaze leaped to hers, hot and questioning.
She flinched but fought to hold it with a steady gaze of her own.
Lord Savage took another cautious sip of tea. “What kind of family could I possibly be? I haven’t yet wished you felicitations on your birthday.”
“I’m sure there will be more opportunities. If you recall previous years’ events, we are rather relentless in feting ourselves.”
His lips quirked above the rim of his cup. “You’re relentless in most things, Miss Belle.”
A blush stole into her cheeks. “I can’t decide if you mean that as a compliment.”
“Every characteristic may draw a compliment under some circumstance.”
“Then I suppose all my characteristics are, in some degree, desirable.”
He set down the cup, as if signaling an end to their banter. Were her words too much? Had she taken it too far? Even after all these years, it was too easy for her to offend and cross that invisible line of propriety. She’d crossed it enough with Robert but had never felt the censure she did now. How was it that everything with Robert felt effortless whereas with Lord Savage, even with his kindness, she felt off-kilter and always slightly misunderstood?
“I apologize, Lord Savage, if I said anything—”
“One should never have to apologize on one’s birthday.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin, although there was nothing there.
“Oh, is it someone’s birthday today?” Dinah said as she entered the parlor in a smart black morning gown.
“I thought you’d made a remark last week that the art of sarcasm was beneath you,” Alice said.
“I was just informed my birthday is an opportunity to sin without penalty. And by a peer of the realm, no less.” Dinah took a seat. “It may as well be penned in the Bible.”
“Let’s not blaspheme,” Alice said.
Bridget entered a moment later, and upon seeing Lord Savage, made a desperate attempt to fix her hair. Soon, Alice could barely keep up with the zip of conversation that cut across the table and around dining partners. The Abernathys made their way in next, although Robert proved elusive.
When Sera entered, the conversation hushed and the silence was palpable. Sera’s white-blond hair had been twisted atop her head, and her black dress cast pallor on her already pearly skin. She gazed over the breakfast table.
“Let me make you a plate,” Benjamin said, rising and offering his seat.
Sera tentatively sat, and Dinah remarked upon the unseasonal warmth of the weather. Bridget hoped for it to cool before archery so they wouldn’t be forced to sweat.
Benjamin returned with a full plate of sausage and eggs and set it before Sera. When she picked up her fork and took a bite, it was as if the entire table heaved a collective sigh of relief.
Alice raised her cup. “A birthday toast. Just between us, before the guests arrive.”
“A toast! Hear, hear,” Dinah chimed in.
Today would be about celebrating her sisters.
She wouldn’t think about Lord Savage or having to marry. As usual, she would be happy and smile at her guests, and when the time was right, she would have cake.
Until then, she had guests to entertain.
She fled from the table, making haste to meet the workers who were setting up a canopy by the lake. She was instructing them where to set up the tables when her aunt arrived.
“Happy birthday, my dearest,” Aunt Margaret said. She held out a small box that Alice knew to be the latest scent from Paris that had captured her fancy. She had given each of them a small vial of expensive perfume every year since they’d turned sixteen—the better to catch a husband, she’d say.
“Thank you. I can’t wait to try it.” She handed the box to one of the coachmen who had been wrangled into assisting with the party’s setup, and asked him to leave her gift box on the small table of presents. They had requested none, but some arrived nonetheless.
“And Sera?” her aunt asked as she wrung her gloves.
“Improving. She came to breakfast and ate several bites of egg not to mention an entire scone. Not a tear throughout. She didn’t speak much but she did laugh at the Abernathys’ jokes. I think they’ve taken it upon themselves to see her merry again, although they suffered as much loss, if not more.”
“Those two boys always were the best of the Abernathys.”
It was the closest her aunt had ever come to speaking ill of the dead. “Any news of Father?”
“I’m unsure. We had been hoping he’d arrive yesterday but he has been delayed by the worker strikes. I’m sure he will employ whatever means necessary to be here for your birthday, though.”
Delay meant respite. Enough time for her to facilitate a solution.
* * *
Alice found Sera curled up in the parlor window seat with a cup of tea, as she did most mornings after breakfast. Sera had never been much of a morning person. Not that she was testy or ill-mannered, but she preferred quiet solitude. She presented a pretty picture sitting there. Her hair was unbound and fell in waves down her back to pool against the cushions.
“Good morning,” Sera said as Alice approached and took a seat across from her.
A brief morning chill from the window crept in past her clothes. “I should fetch a blanket for you.”
“No need,” Sera said. “The tea is warm enough. Would you like some?”
Alice shook her head. “I had thought to ask Lord Savage accompany us into town tomorrow to arrange delivery of meals to the poor.”
“Are you begging Lord Savage to accompany us so the poor may gaze upon his face?” Sera teased. “He has been very attentive to our family of late.”
“He loves His Grace very much . . . I mean . . . Lord . . . Benjamin. Oh, Sera.”
“No, it is all right. Benjamin is now His Grace. You cannot mean to rob him of his title just because I’ve been deprived of a husband.”
Alice’s heart quivered at Sera’s matter-of-fact shrug. At the cold in her voice. “You will find love again.”
Sera’s gaze shot up. “What if I have, Alice?”
She sat up. “You have? When? With whom?”
“It doesn’t matter. And I need not marry a man I do not love a second time, so I am content to remain single.”
“Sera, you cannot make these revelations and expect me to idly accept them,” Alice said. “I know that your marriage to Tom was not a love match initially, but the way you’ve been behaving . . . we all assumed you had fallen in love with him.”
“Oh . . . No. Though, I suppose it would appear that way . . .”
Sera was not typically flippant with her words the way Bridget was, but Alice had difficulty reconciling her picture of Sera with the one her sister now presented. “Have I been blind to the realities of your marriage? Have I failed you?”
“No, not at all!” Sera leaned forward and ran her fingers comfortingly through Alice’s hair. Alice sighed against her sister’s touch, realizing she had never been the one to be comforted since her mother died. She had never been the one to be treated like a child, and for now, that was all she wanted. To be taken care of. “I married for duty and to make Father happy, but you mustn’t believe I was unhappy. Tom and I shared an amicable companionship. One understood by few. After his brother jilted me, Father was so anxious. So were all of you. When Tom came to my side and offered marriage, I realized I had an opportunity to look after you the way you had looked after me.”
Alice pulled back and brushed Sera’s hair from her face. “You didn’t need to.”
“I wanted to, and my marriage was no burden. Did you know I never had a wedding night? Tom couldn’t. He confessed to me that he’d proposed in a moment of folly and weakness. As you know, he lost his wife to illness. He loved her so much and was hoping to recapture that love. He said that although he felt tenderness for me, it wasn’t the same. And he knew that if he couldn’t love someone like me, then he couldn’t love anyone. The point is . . . love is rare and fleeting, Alice. You must hold on to it when you can. But I have it now. No, don’t ask me his name. I believe we love each other, but we cannot be together.”
“Because of Father?”
“No, it isn’t that. I beg you, don’t ask more of me.”
“I have failed you,” Alice said. “If I had stood up to Father earlier, if I hadn’t indulged him, hadn’t encouraged him . . .”
The front door blustered open and their father’s booming voice echoed through the halls. “Alice? Alice!”
Alice pursed her lips, determined, and steeled herself. “Well, it is not too late.”
“Alice! Alice!!!”
She cast a glance at Sera who ducked her head. “I’m not ready for him yet. Would you mind distracting him while I return to bed?”
Alice went to him, as she always did. “Here, Father.” Alice scooped up the pile of papers he thrust in her direction. No doubt the pages were tasks she should see accomplished. With a flick of her wrist, she righted the jagged odds and bits sticking out into a single pile and tucked it under her arm. “How were your travels?”
“Slow.” He said the word like a curse, which in his line of work, it was. “Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. Weather. Worker strikes. Illness. And at a time like this . . .” He stopped at the foot of the stairs, his face red and weather-beaten, as if he’d toiled in the sun like a common deckhand on his own ship. “Our Sera?”
“Resting.”
He nodded and began up the staircase without another word.
“Father, wait.” She followed him up to the second floor, lengthening her stride to keep up. “She is tired, overly so.”
“I know what’s best for my own child.”
A streak of anger ran through her, and she spun in front of him and held out both hands. “No, you do not.”
With a raised brow, he asked, “What are we discussing here, precisely?”
“Love. Marriage.” She swallowed. “Me.”
His gaze moved from her hands to her face, his expression aghast.
Her hands fell to her side, but she did not move from her spot. “You want what is best for us, but it is not the same as knowing. You did your best with us. We know you did. Losing mother . . . No one understands your loss better than we do as her children, but you do not know what is best for us, even if you wish us the best.”
He glanced down at the tips of his shoes. When he met her eyes a second time, he was shaking his head. “Have I not always done what is best for you? The best tutors?”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“Food? Accommodations.”
She kept nodding. “Of course.”
“Why should the best husbands be any different?”
She softened her expression. “Because you don’t know what is best in that regard. What if mother had married a duke instead of you?”
His face crumbled. “What if she had? What if she had remained comfortable in London instead of following me across the oceans? Maybe she would have been stronger. Maybe she would have been in better health.” He choked as tears and spittle felt from his face. “Maybe she wouldn’t have died.”
Alice led him to his room before anyone could see him, her heart racing at the revelation. She sat him down on the edge of his bed as he buried his face in his hands. It was a long while before he wrested himself back up and wiped at his face with his sleeves.
“Is that what you’ve always believed? That you’re responsible for Mother’s death?” she asked quietly.
“It is a husband’s job to care for his wife and children. A husband’s duty.”
“That you did. That you’ve done. That you are doing.”
“I’ve done nothing right. I’ve seen our Sera married into the most respected family in London only to become a widow. I was never able to protect your mother from censure for having married me. I couldn’t even keep her alive.”
She understood him now as she had not before, and in understanding there was, for the first time, reason. “We’re much the same, you and I. In more ways than I’d realized. I had thought that it was my duty to marry first, to protect my sisters, and that I’d failed them by not doing so. But I see now that I was wrong. I only fail them by not pleading their case, my case, with you now.”
“We’re alike, are we?” he said with a grumble.
“In the best and worst ways,” she said. “You’ve been telling us how to live our lives for years. Well, Father, now, for one moment, permit me the disrespect as I’m going to tell you what to do. You are going to honor our mother’s memory the way she would have wanted, by letting us follow our hearts, wherever and to whomever they may take us.”
He dabbed at the corner of his eyes. “And you believe this is what your mother would have wanted?”
“I know it is. And you do, too, Father. You’ve just forgotten. You’ve forgotten the greatest truths are the ones that she never told you aloud.”
* * *
Whatever concerns Robert might have had for the day eased when he saw Alice and Sera, arms linked, walking across the field to greet their guests. Several dozen townsfolk were listening to the trio of strings and flute who played by the lake—it was the only music at the event, as music and dancing in the ballroom would be inappropriate.
Sera’s dress hung loose at her waist. Her cheekbones were too pronounced, her shoulders too angular. But she was smiling as Alice twirled her as they once had under the maypole. The sun was setting behind them, and the air crisped with its descent.
Most of the guests were drinking and clapping or dancing to the music. Savage stood at the outskirts, studying the scene with a furrowed brow upon his enviably perfect forehead. Robert made a casual display of walking toward his friend, trying not to be unsettled by the intense study he gave to the Belle sisters and, if Robert was not mistaken, to Alice, in particular.
It had been difficult for Robert to stay away at breakfast. His first waking thought had been of Alice, as had the notion of wishing her happy birthday. But he knew that if he monopolized his time with her, then she wouldn’t feel free to pursue Lord Savage.
Contrary to his baser instincts, he knew Alice needed to be given free rein to indulge her pursuit of the other man. She wasn’t one to be controlled or advised against her best interests. Even he could admit that marrying Lord Savage made sense, but he needed to appeal to more than her head.
Savage cut his gaze to Robert as he approached. “You’re late.”
“I’ve arrived exactly when I planned to arrive.” Robert nodded toward the musicians. “Nothing to interest you there.”
“Rather the opposite. There’s too much of interest.”
Robert clenched his fists and his jaw. “A remark like that deserves clarification.”
A mask of merriment lit up his friend’s face. “Wine, women, and song. What’s not of interest? You take me too seriously.”
“Being a titled lord in need of an heir is serious business.”
“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” his friend murmured, giving nothing away.
“Have you been considering marriage?”
Savage’s gaze swept over the group, but try as he might, Robert couldn’t find even a flicker of interest. “I’m not sure a person in my station has much to consider. I will marry.”
“Surely the choice of bride merits consideration.”
“Yes, she does.”
“A man of your station, already wealthy and titled, could select anyone of his choosing.”
“And if you could choose for me?”
Robert considered his next words carefully. “Sera is certainly the most beautiful.”
“I’ve had my share of beauty.”
“Dinah is the most intelligent.”
“My life expectancy might find itself compromised if I were engaged in a daily battle of wits.”
“Bridget is keen to be the perfect wife.”
“I’m not so keen on perfection, am I?” Savage spun toward him. “Do you remember our championship game our final year at Cambridge?”
Robert’s mind spun at the change in subject. Of course he remembered. The day had been unbearably hot, and the opposing team had been made of giants. “With no affection,” he said.
“I couldn’t understand at first why you kept sending out our power hitters. They caught on to our strategy and adjusted their fielding in moments. It wasn’t until midway through the game that I realized you were using the size of the players and the heat against them, to exhaust them so that in the second half of the match we could play uncontested.”
“We did win.” It had been satisfying, although the team had almost mutinied.
“Are you trying to exhaust me now, Robert?” Savage said with a raised eyebrow. “Are we playing a game I hadn’t realized I’d agreed to?”
Robert slipped his hands into his pockets. The musicians were packing up their strings and bows, and the guests were rising to their feet with applause.
When he didn’t answer, Savage stepped into his field of vision. “We all have the family we were born to, but this is the family we chose—you, me, Benjamin, and Graham. Even Christian. And now the Belles. We’re family, and you don’t play games with family.”
“I’m not playing against you,” Robert promised.
“But you are playing,” he said. “Between you, Miss Belle, and Miss Dinah, I’m surprised you haven’t usurped the aristocracy. What’s your game? To see Alice married to me?”
Robert guffawed so hard he choked. He bent over to rest his hands on his knees. Savage thumped his back, only making him choke more.
“Mr. Crawford! Are you all right? Move away, all of you, move away. Mr. Crawford?” He heard Alice’s voice cut a swath through the revelers as she rushed toward him. By the time she reached him, he had controlled his coughs but she would have none of it.
“Come inside. Quickly.” Her hands moved from his forehead to cheek to neck. She was touching him freely in her attempt to assist him, and he could imagine a life where she was free to touch him anytime.
“There’s no need,” he said. “I’ve regained my breath.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” She turned toward the house and snapped her fingers for him to follow. They walked through the main ballroom, past another dozen guests who were taking sips of wine, to the kitchen.
His breath caught, remembering their kiss of last year, but it seemed to be the last thing on her mind as she rifled through the cupboards, boiled some water, and brought him a foul-smelling cup of tea.
“Drink.”
He began to protest but thought better of it and gulped the bitter brew in one swallow.
“I know it’s foul.”
“Nothing some cake couldn’t solve. But it’s early for cake, isn’t it?”
Her eyes darkened, and he wondered if she was remembering last year, too. He thought of little else, but he’d been sober. Sometimes he wondered if she even remembered it—the best parts of it, that was.
“We should get back,” she said.
“I have your birthday gift.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a blue floral pin, the same shade as the ribbon he still carried with him. “I know you’ve been tired of black.”
She plucked it from his fingers, managing not to touch his hand, and pinned it on her collar. Her finger ran along the petals of each flower. “It’s beautiful.”
“It pales on comparison to its wearer.”
Her hand trembled as she returned it to her side. “Thank you.”
“I’m afraid I have to return home.” For all the previous birthday celebrations he had stayed at Woodbury and had easily been able to access the kitchen at midnight for Alice’s ritual. But this year he wouldn’t be able to. “I hate the idea of your eating cake alone this year.”
She took a tremulous breath. “I’m not alone. I have my father. And I have my sisters, and—”
He interrupted her before she could say the next name, before she could say Savage, if that’s what she intended. “Yes, and they have you,” he said fiercely. Anyone who was lucky enough to have Alice’s love had a fierce support system in her. How he wanted to be counted as one of those people. She would slay for the ones she loved. Savage would never appreciate that about her. He would take liberties so easily, so carelessly. He wouldn’t understand that Alice wasn’t one to stand by. She would rush the battlefield with him, he’d always known that.
Oh God, or had he?
Robert clapped his hands over his head.
He was an idiot. The worst of idiots.
“Is something the matter?” she asked.
He’d been going about his wooing of Alice all wrong. Robert had made Alice the conquest and Savage his ally. “I’ve made a mistake,” he said. “I must beg your pardon.”
“What is the matter?” Wariness stole into her features. She must know, she must sense, that the time for polite banter had long gone. He was a man intent on having his way.
“There is something I want, and I relied on the wrong person to help me.”
“Are you deliberately obscuring your meaning?”
He smiled, charmed by the notion of spending his entire life bantering with her. “Will you forgive me?”
“Me? Forgive you? Forgive you for what?”
He stepped closer and captured her hands. She stared at them as if seeing them for the first time. “I had thought to win your hand by strategy, by warfare. I had thought to trick my way into your heart as if you were a queen on a chessboard that I was trying to capture.”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’ve no talent for chess.”
“Don’t you understand? You are the queen. You are the strongest piece on the board. The greatest weapon in my arsenal. I should have known and I should have trusted you. I should have come to you first, as I come to you now.” He stepped closer and cradled her head as she looked up at him with wide eyes. “You are my ally, Alice. I love you, and I know you love me. I had thought to use subterfuge to fight for you but I am not the one with the fight. I’m here, Alice. Asking you to fight for me.”
She didn’t respond.
“Say something,” he begged, palming her cheek. “Have I misjudged your affections?”
“No,” she said. “No, not at all, of course—”
His hand moved to the back of her head, and his lips slanted hungrily on hers, cutting off her words. He felt her fists tighten into his shirt but then she pushed him away.
“No, this is all wrong,” she said.
He groaned and nodded, resting his forehead against hers. “You’re right. We should wait until a more appropriate period of time has passed. But then, God, Alice—”
She shook her head, laughing.
Laughing?
He pulled back. “Now I am the one who is confused.”
“You have just declared yourself and made a grand gesture for my affections.”
“Correct, and my confusion stands.”
She sighed. “I was to be the one to make the grand gesture. I had my own plan to declare myself first.”
He blinked, not sure he’d understood her words for her tone was needling. “So…you are upset—”
“But I am not upset.”
“Distressed?”
“Not quite.”
“Wounded?”
“Hmm.”
“You have feelings of a particular nature.”
“Excellent, onward,” he said, his blood pumping fire. She had feelings.
She sighed, but there was a smile to her lips. “It is most vexing when one has decided to play the heroine only to find herself trumped by the hero.”
Her stared down at him, his magnificent Alice, and it took every ounce of willpower not to laugh and kiss her and spin her in his arms. “What kind of gentlemen would I be to deny my lady her fairest wish when I am her eternal servant?”
“Not a very good one,” she said.
“Ah, then by all means.” He took another step back, knowing it would be the last one, and that every step from here onward would be towards her. “Let your wooing of me progress.”