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Chapter 5

Author: A.W. Exley
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56
The next day, I stood in the kitchen and watched a remarkable sight. Alice wheedled, which should have been an entirely unattractive state for a woman. Except with her large eyes with their unusual amber ring and the soft ruffling of chocolate curls around her face, she came across as adorable. An adorable wheedler?that should be an oxymoron. She could probably stop vermin in their tracks with that look, and I briefly wondered about testing the theory out. Being staked out on the fence line would serve her right for wheedling.

"Please." Another bat of the eyes lashes. Well played, Alice. "It's my day off, and it should darn well be yours too. I'll not leave you to mope around the house for them to prey upon."

It would be nice to escape for a few hours, to forget about the daily worries even if it were to play third wheel to Alice's plans. She saw me wavering.

"You simply have to come as chaperone, or I cannot meet Frank."

That drew a laugh. "It's 1919. Some women now have the vote and went to the front to serve as nurses, while others kept England running. I'm sure you can have a luncheon date without a chaperone." There was something else that bothered me. "Besides, haven't you been meeting this chap on the quiet for the last two months now?"

A frown crossed her face and she blew air. Ha! I knew she had been sneaking off to see someone. She marshalled her defences and tried again.

"Please." The last plaintive cry was accompanied by a lip tremble. Darn woman, it was like trying to walk past an injured puppy.

"All right, then." Resistance was futile, and at least one of us had a chance at being happy. Besides, I will admit to being curious about this fellow who seemed to dominate her waking moments, and quite a few of her sleeping ones by the noises and sighs she made.

She squealed and hugged me. "Excellent. Now hurry up and get changed."

What was this obsession with my clothing? I glanced down at my shirt and trousers and sighed. I knew a losing battle when I wandered into one, and Alice would not be satisfied until I wore a walking suit. Upstairs, I shed one set of cast offs for another, a suit from Louise with beautiful lace asymmetrical inserts. It was a few seasons old, but I didn't care. The pale grey pinstripe suited my blonde colouring and made me feel ethereal, as though I had stepped into a story.

The sad truth was I had no pretty clothes of my own. Step-mother gave me a uniform and the occasional hand me down from the others. A smart outfit gave me a window to another world, one where father might walk through the door and wave us off. He would joke and laugh and tell us to be home by dinnertime.

Alice wore a more practical rough cotton skirt and jacket, and we both donned sturdy laced boots for the walk to the old mill. In the kitchen, I grabbed a straw hat and the katana from where it hung on the back of the door. Alice packed a picnic basket, while I slung the blade over my head, followed by the hat on top of it. There was no day off with vermin, and it wouldn't pay to become complacent and end up serving ourselves instead of the sandwiches.

We set off down the road to Alice's chosen picnic spot. The old mill once ground the wheat to make the flour for the village, until the industrialisation of the nineteenth century arrived. The wheel remained and turned with the current of the river, but the building became a delightful ruin. Ivy climbed over every surface, and swallows nested in the ceiling. Trees and shrubbery had reclaimed the spot, turning it into a quiet and peaceful place.

As we neared, the oaks and elms on the side of the road spread their limbs and formed a green umbrella over our heads, shading our faces from the harsh summer sun. Arm in arm, we laughed and chatted and almost forgot events of the last year.

"Oh, I say." My feet were rooted to the ground at a spectacular sight. Up ahead sat a gleaming two-seated coupe. The latest model from Rolls Royce, a silver ghost; a glorious machine built for speed over long roads.

"Frank said he had brought a new motor over from London," Alice said as we walked closer.

The question of he who? bounced into my mind, but before it made it to my lips, Frank stepped out from his spot lounging against a tree trunk. I recognised him as the man who rode with Seth earlier in the week. I ducked my head, but fortunately he only had eyes for Alice. He took her hands and placed a chaste kiss on her cheek.

So sweet, I'm not sure I will survive lunch if these two are going to canoodle the whole time. Movement among the trees caught my eye, and instinct drove my hand to grip the sword hilt from where it jutted up behind my shoulder blade.

"Easy, Eleanor," a familiar voice said. "I like my head attached to my shoulders."

Seth deMage stepped from the shadow and into the filtered light. My gaze flew to Alice and back again to watch the nobleman. He was effortlessly elegant in his dark trousers, crisp white shirt, and tonal waistcoat. From his fingers dangled a fedora the same colour as his trousers. At least I wasn't covered in blood splatter today, although I was a few years behind the latest fashion plates from Paris and New York.

A warm smile settled on his lips. "Frank said he was stepping out with a lady's maid. I had no idea she was yours."

Oh crumbs, he mistook Alice for my maid, when in truth I served alongside her. Better stop that thought before it gathered steam. "Oh, no."

"It's a great privilege to serve Miss Eleanor," Alice the traitor interrupted my denial.

My mouth slammed shut. What game was she playing? Frank winked from her side. Scratch that, the two of them were playing some silly game that would only end in tears?mine.

"Really, Alice, I think? She stood on my toe and cut off the words balanced on my lips.

"I didn't realise you were already acquainted, your grace." Alice beamed. She obviously wanted to see me horsewhipped, it was the only logical explanation for her allowing this pretence. I assumed Frank must be of diminished capacity, since he seemed to be in on it too.

"I have met Miss Eleanor's sword before." He chuckled and that gaze focused on me.

Words, I screamed at my brain, now would be a good time to supply some words. Preferably ones telling Alice to not be so daft and denouncing myself as a servant.

"Alice," I managed to force out. "Let's not detain Lord Leithfield, I'm sure he wants to be on his way."

"Actually, I was just saying to Frank that I haven't seen the old mill since I swam here as a ten-year-old. It's been nice to reacquaint myself with the spot. Lovely place for a picnic, but I never meant to intrude." He spun the hat in his hands.

Good, he was leaving. I am a terrible liar and the less I had to talk, the better.

He stepped toward the gleaming motor and tossed his hat into the seat. "I was going to take the new girl for a spin. Care to join me?" He held out his hand, and my heart leapt in my chest.

Oh, sweet temptation thy name is speed. He dangled the offer of the wind blowing in my face faster than the placid mare or the old motorbike could ever reach. A chance to chase away the shadows that cluttered my mind. A serving girl could never go for a motor with a duke, but a pretend lady could. Perhaps I could play along with Alice for just a wee bit, long enough for a quick dash around the village.

"Frank and I will set up lunch miss, for your return," Alice said with her big, innocent, brown eyes. You would never believe that mop of curls hid the mind of an evil genius.

"That's settled then," Seth said, and he grasped my hand before I could wriggle my way out with some feeble excuse. He drew me closer to his side. My mind pointed out that my body was putting up very little resistance, but I shouted it down. May as well enjoy the ride in the gorgeous silver ghost?how often was that offer going to present itself?

Seth opened the low-slung door and turned to me. "Perhaps the sword might be better in the boot?" The smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

My heart did a flip-flop. For a duke, and someone close to the crown, the infuriating man was far too good-natured and genial. High ranked peers should be stiff, formal, and preferably malformed. It just wasn't fair that life threw the cosmic dice and showered him with every gift. Perhaps he was colour blind or tone deaf? That would go some way to alleviating his obvious charms.

"Yes, good point." My thoughts finally stuttered into action, and I removed my hat and handed him the blade. While he stowed it away in the boot, I used the ribbon on my straw hat to tie it securely under my chin. Wouldn't do to lose my second best hat, as I was already looking at a flogging for impersonating a noble and monopolising the eligible duke's time. Louise would have kittens if she found out.

As I settled on the buttery soft leather, Seth slipped into the driver's seat.

"Ready?" He grinned and started the engine.

"Oh, yes." I hoped he was a fast, reckless driver, or he would suffer in my opinion. I hated a man who nursed a vehicle over the road as though he escorted an elderly relative. Accelerator flat to the board, I say.

He released the clutch as he depressed the gas, and we shot forward and soon picked up speed. We raced over the hard dirt roads and startled a horse drawing a hay cart.

"Sorry!" I yelled out the side, but it had already disappeared in the rear-view mirror as the farmer shook his fist at us. A smile spread over my face, and laughter built in my chest with every sharp rattle and bump. Far more exhilarating than rocketing along on the old motorbike. I threw my hands over my head and laughed ?free. This must be what it felt like to have no cares. All of my problems were scooped up by the wind and littered in the road behind us.

But the motor was too fast and the roads too short. All too soon, we drew back to the shady spot under the spreading elms. I stared at the dappled light playing over my hands. "Do you think if you drove fast enough you could turn back time and stop what has already happened?"

I thought of father, sitting in his window. What I would give to warn him to duck, before the shell struck and shrapnel burrowed into his head.

Seth's fingers rested on the wheel. "I wish it were possible. There are many things I would unsee or have undone."

Neither of us spoke for a long minute. Overhead, the leaves rustled in a gentle breeze, and birds called to one another. My stomach rumbled. Gosh, I hope he didn't hear that.

"Shall we find lunch?"

Oh, he heard it. I covered my embarrassment by fussing with my hat and tying the ribbon around the brim. He opened the car door and held out a hand to me. I will admit a girl could get used to being treated like something special, like a delicate thoroughbred instead of the capable draft horse pulling the cart.

"Thank you." Once again, his larger, warm hand enveloped mine. The words bubbled in my chest to right his misconception. To thank him for the ride, while pointing out I was a mere servant and beneath his notice. But his steady gaze stroked my face, and the treacherous words wouldn't make it past my teeth.

He was also still holding my hand. "My sword?" I asked.

"Of course." He opened the trunk and fetched my beloved katana, carrying it as we walked through the cool shelter of the trees.

Alice and Frank had spread two blankets a fair distance apart, giving each couple a certain amount of privacy. Not that Seth and I were a couple; quite the opposite. We were a duke and an imposter whose ravenous stomach needed feeding. I would confess all after lunch and just before he left. Yes, that was an excellent plan. No need to ruin a perfectly lovely day off.

We ate in silence. Or near silence, with the babble of the water and the lullaby of the birds overhead.

Seth leaned back on the blanket and stared at the sky. "Are you a reader, Miss Eleanor?"

"Ella, please, unless you want me calling you Lord Leithfield all the time."

"Definitely Ella, then." His gaze scanned my face; an unread intensity lurked in their depths that made heat race up from under my collar.

I dropped my gaze back to the sandwich in my hands. Well played, Ella. That corrected his misconception about our relative positions. My mind grabbed his comment about books, and I resisted the urge to laugh. Books were my escape; they transported me to other worlds without Step-mothers. What would a duke read? Perhaps the financial pages, and maybe the society gossip so he knew who was on the market and available? There was one book I read aloud to Alice at night.

"Shall I mortify you, and tell you I have read The Sheik?" The book was spoken of in hushed tones and considered far too scandalous for polite ladies to read, so naturally Alice and I had to obtain a copy.

His head turned to me, and his eyes widened. "Really? And what do you think of our heroine, held captive and violently abused, only to fall in love with her captor?"

I had little time for simpering females, perhaps because I was expected to be so capable. "I think she may have suffered heat stroke."

He threw back his head and laughed. "Who do you prefer then? The gripping tales of Tarzan, king of the jungle?"

I threw half a scone at him. "Don't be so daft. My favourites are Mary Shelley and Bram Stoker."

Something flitted behind his eyes. "Why such dark authors?"

"Because monsters are real. And in their words, I find a way forward." I couldn't meet his gaze, and concentrated instead on a sparrow trying to sneak the crumbs of the fallen scone.

He nodded as though my answer satisfied him. Then he lay down, hands behind his head. Not much of a talker, this one. I liked that. Silence between us didn't feel awkward, but companionable.

Soon Alice began packing away, and I took over our plates to be stored in the basket. Blankets were shaken and folded.

Back at the exquisite motor car, Seth took my hand. He kissed the back of my knuckles, a soft touch to my skin that sent shivers up my arm. "Until we meet again, Ella."

The way he whispered my name shot through my body and curled my toes. Before I knew it, we were watching their motor disappear down the road. I kept the smile plastered on my face until they rounded the corner. Oh blast, I was supposed to apologise and lay bare my common origins. Instead, I pinched Alice. Hard.

"Ow!" she cried out and rubbed her arm. "What was that for?"

"For being so determined to see me horsewhipped. What the hell were you thinking, letting him believe I'm a lady?"

She smiled, that soft dreamy one someone who's falling in love gets. "Frank says he's ever such a nice chap, but needs a grounded girl. Someone who knows who she is, and not some flighty, nose-in-the-air aristocrat."

I frowned. "I know exactly who I am, a lowly house maid, just like you. Let Frank find him some grounded aristocrat. My highest aspiration is to look after father and our property."

"You could be so much more, Ella. Just leave things be, for now. The poor duke needs a break from all the women thrown in his path. Don't you think it would be nice for him to spend time with somebody who isn't calculating his net worth?" The dreamy look on her face got even more mysterious.

I never thought of it that way. I knew my position in life, and had no ambition to climb the social ladder. If Seth found some comfort in lying in the grass and staring at the sky, then who was I to steal those few quiet moments from him? Soon enough the poor chap would be stalked and hunted by Louise and Elizabeth.

"All right, Alice. But please stop reading those romance novels. I don't think I can survive it."

She laughed and linked her arm with mine, the basket in her other hand. "Life is an adventure, and you have dwelt too long in the dark, taking on the role of slayer all by yourself. You need a handsome soldier to lighten your burden, and he needs a bright interlude before Louise sinks her claws into him."

Her smile was infectious. I couldn't hold any ill feelings against her; she meant well. "You know, Frank taking you off my hands would also lighten my burden."

She shot me a dreamy look. Oh hell, she was actually considering it, better scuttle that while I could. "Don't you dare run off with him and leave me with them all on my own."

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    As though Lady Jeffrey read my mind, she discovered a job that had to be done immediately and kept me from riding to see Ella the next day. Instead Stewart and I had to dig out a ditch by the end of the driveway. She wanted it deeper in case of winter rain. I swear she wanted a moat. By evening we both had blisters on top of our callouses and to my shame, I was too tired to spare much of a thought for either Ella or Hazel.Three days had passed since Alice ran home screaming and Ella was arrested. Dawn still hadn't made the horizon as I sat in the kitchen, warming myself in the chair closest to the coal range while I chewed my toast. My gaze fixed at a point on the far wall, but my vision turned inward as I sorted through my plans.Firstly there was the issue of Ella, no doubt freezing in the cold cell. Then there was the girl trapped in another type of gaol. Mr Morris would skin me for gaiters if he caught me around the tower, but I?d risk it for Hazel. My chances of sneaking over t

  • Serenity House: Ella's Journey   Chapter 82

    I screamed until my voice gave out and still I ran. My vocal cords might not have stamina, but my legs did. Blindly, I didn't care what direction or what obstacle stood before me, I ran away. I would surmount anything to leave the horror behind me. But no matter how fast I moved my feet or how hard my lungs worked, it stayed at my back. Death was stitched to me; it formed part of my fabric and rippled over my skin.And it laughed.The black shadow chuckled and mocked my feeble attempts to slip its clutches until, exhausted, I fell to the ground. Then I curled up in a ball, clasped my hands over my head, and sobbed. Why didn't the Grim Reaper cut me down? Then, at least the nightmare would end. An eternity in Hell would not be any worse than living.In the secret room in my mind, I pulled the blanket up and everything went dark.***August 1914. I had turned fifteen a few days earlier when I crept down the barn stairs early one morning. I slipped a bridle over Cossimo's head, jumpe

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