An Affair Downstairs Read online

  “We lost half, one to the cold and one to disease.”

  “That means two trees survived the journey, which seems fortunate considering the recent drop in temperatures.”

  He nodded. “If they’d stayed in port any longer, we’d have lost them all, most likely. Mr. Brumley is very excited to supervise their replanting.”

  “He’s in the conservatory now?” She let go her sigh of relief that she hadn’t gone right in. “Alone?”

  “Alone with his books. He has brought three manuals with him, and he’s trying to decide which soil composition will be most suitable. Shall I congratulate you?”

  “On what?” She felt the color drain from her face, fearing the worst.

  “Your happy change in circumstances? The impending nuptials?”

  “To Brumley? Good lord, I would rather impale myself on your shears.”

  “So you haven’t accepted him?” Finally, a note of happiness in his voice. “A wonder he stays around.”

  “He hasn’t asked. I have a feeling he’s waiting to get me alone, which is why I came in search of a maid to accompany me into the conservatory. I prefer not to be alone with him, if I can help it.”

  “Be warned. He has been speaking of you as his future bride. I think it’s only a matter of time. Perhaps at the ball.”

  “The ball!” She smacked her forehead with her palm. “Of course. The perfect opportunity to whisk me out into the moonlight and propose. I don’t want to dance every dance, but I have to be sure I have partners to avoid being alone with him.”

  “It sounds like an impossible task.”

  “Help me.” She placed her hands over his on the shear handles. “Keep watch and dance with me every time I look to be without a partner. Please, Winthrop.” Her eyes held his gaze, and she hoped he could see the urgency in them.

  “I would love to be of assistance to you, Lady Alice, but I’m not attending the ball.”

  “Not attending? You must. It’s a ball. At Thornbrook Park. Which you oversee.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not a requirement for me to attend. I do what needs to be done and step back. I could attend, of course. Lady Averford has invited me to join the festivities. But I tend to avoid such affairs.”

  “Avoid? But it was your idea.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to attend. I’ve seen to it that everything is in order. The overnight guests begin arriving tomorrow. The rooms have been readied. The ballroom floor has been uncovered and mopped. The wall separating the dining room from the parlor will be removed today, which is why you’ll be dining on trays tonight, or at the Dower House in your case.”

  “You took down a whole wall? Just for an event?”

  “It folds up, to be concealed in a space between the rooms. It was constructed so that it could be removed to enlarge the space for parties. The hinges had to be repaired, however, due to the length of time the wall has been left in place.”

  “Oh. You’ve been busy.”

  “Overseeing the stocking of the pantry, the menus, the budget, and the preparations of the house and gardens.”

  “It’s so cold in the gardens at night.”

  “Not cold enough to deter guests from seeking a late-night stroll. It gets stifling in a crowded ballroom, or haven’t you noticed?”

  “I have. I suppose you’re right.” She hadn’t been to many balls, and none of them recently.

  Still, she could remember the heat and the excitement, getting carried away with the feeling of triumph when a handsome man asked her to dance, and defeat when a better-looking one asked one of her friends. It all seemed such a part of her past, her dazzling youth. She was a woman of the world now, or so she preferred to think of herself.

  She supposed she wouldn’t truly be a woman until she’d properly made love with a man. Nibbling her lip, she absently studied Winthrop’s solid jaw. What it would be like to drop kisses, soft as butterfly wings, along his jaw and down his neck?

  Suddenly he dropped the shears, snapping her to attention, and wrapped his arms around her. He felt it, too! He was overcome.

  “Logan.” She spoke his given name before crushing her lips to his.

  ***

  Her mouth covered his before he realized what was happening. But once he tasted her sweetness, he couldn’t stop. He drew on her tongue as she boldly slipped it between his lips, urging her to explore before he took the lead and showed her the pleasure created when two tongues met and tangled. He kissed her until he lost all power to breathe, and then he backed away, prepared to apologize profusely.

  “Lady Alice. I’m sorry. I reached out because I thought you were going to faint again. You were so still for a minute there, and your eyes became heavy-lidded.”

  “I may yet,” she said, looking up at him, eyes wide. “But I’m not sorry. I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, Logan. I think we could have something wonderful.”

  “Something wonderful,” he repeated, lost for a minute in her hazel eyes. How could eyes have so many colors? Green, brown, gold. Her eyes were bewitching. He could study them all day long. But he remembered himself in time. Not quite in time. He’d kept an arm around her waist, resting on her backside, for a few seconds too long. He pulled it back.

  “Lady Alice, you know I admire you. You’ve become a dear friend, and I’ve had precious few of those, honestly. But we can’t have anything like you’re suggesting. Please. Be my friend. Expect nothing more from me.”

  He held out his hand, hoping she would shake it, cementing the bonds of friendship. She closed her eyes a moment, then popped them open and tilted her head. “Friends. Yes, of course, Mr. Winthrop. I’m delighted that you count me among your friends, and I hope you continue to do so.”

  Relief was what he expected to feel on such news, but disappointment weighed on him heavily. Something wonderful was within his grasp, and he’d left it on the shelf. What choice did he have? He could only give her temporary pleasure at best, a season’s diversion, and she deserved a lifetime of wonderful. She was just young enough to think living for the moment a fine idea, unaware of how quickly such moments pass. And then, a lifetime of emptiness ahead, a trail of moments that ended too soon and led nowhere.

  Lady Alice deserved so much more. He knew her well enough to know that no one could turn her against something she’d set her mind to. The key was in subtly convincing her that she’d wanted something else all along. He prayed that the right young man for her would be at the ball, ready to sweep her off her feet. She would forget all about him, he reflected with a pang.

  “The lemon trees, and Mr. Brumley, await. Shall we face the challenge together, my friend?” He laced fingers with hers, though it pained him to do so. To let himself get close to her even in friendship, only in friendship, fed the hungry ache in his core. He was a man, after all, and she was a desirable woman.

  “Stay with me,” she begged. “At all costs. Don’t leave me alone with the oaf.”

  “I won’t leave you to Brumley,” he said, stooping to retrieve the shears. “I promise.”

  At the top of the stairs, he conveniently let go of her hand to open the door for her, and he didn’t reach for it again. It wouldn’t do to be seen hand-clasped with a member of the family. Down the hall in the conservatory, Brumley sat, book in his lap, on the bench next to the trees in their pots.

  “Lady Alice.” At their approach, he shot to his feet. “A pleasure to see you again. I’m so glad you’ve joined us.”

  “Lady Alice has experience with citrus trees,” Logan explained, flashing the barest hint of a smile at Alice. He suspected it had been an exaggeration. “She has promised to share her knowledge.”

  She wrung her hands, probably to avoid holding one out to Brumley, who looked eager to grab on. “What little knowledge I have, that is. I watched my mother tend our trees, but I provided little assistance to her, to be honest.”

  “Of course. Leave the men to the work and you can look on admiringly. It’s a woman’s job to ornamen
t the room.”

  Logan watched Alice’s face go red until he thought her pretty eyes would pop out of her head. But instead, she took a breath and offered a sweet smile. “I’ll stand here and watch until I have worthy advice.”

  “I’ll be waiting for your wisdom. Meanwhile, it’s time to transfer our prizes from the confines of their travel containers to their more spacious plots. I do believe I’ve dug deep enough. What say you, Lady Alice?” Logan deferred to her for advice before turning to Brumley.

  “Yes. It looks sufficient.” She agreed, taking a moment to study the six-foot-square, four-foot-deep box he’d constructed for the trees. “They’ll be lovely there as they grow taller, with the other greenery filling in around them.”

  It would suit while they were small, before their roots spread wider. Provided they survived a year or two, he could devise a new plan for their continued growth. Once the trees were replanted, he would ornament the boxes somehow, hide them with a row of shrubbery, paint them, or affix stones. He hadn’t decided, but the goal was to incorporate the trees seamlessly into their garden-like surroundings.

  “I beg to differ, Lady Alice. They might be too close, both in the one box,” Brumley said.

  Logan knew she took a second calming breath, because his eyes were drawn suddenly from her face to the tops of her breasts, just barely visible through the diaphanous blue material that covered her décolletage and the darker blue bodice of the gown. Blue was more her sister’s color. Green suited Alice better. Or the rose color he’d seen her wear on occasion. Her breasts were small, but not as flat as she supposed. They were ripe little apples waiting to be picked. Or lemons perhaps would be more apt, considering the trees… Why was he thinking of her breasts? He had to stop thinking of her as a woman and remember that she was only his friend.

  “But Mr. Brumley, we consulted on the planting, and you thought the proportions ideal. Changed your mind, have you?” Logan turned his attention from Alice. “One box, six feet square to give the roots room to spread, and three deep. I added some depth, just in case, and I’ve ensured for adequate drainage.”

  “I suppose it looks different in execution than I’d imagined. Smaller, somehow. But of course, I referred to Edith Wharton’s Italian Villas and Gardens for such a recommendation. I’ll consult Howard’s Garden Cities of Tomorrow to see if he has anything to add.” He returned to his bench and book.

  “I might need Sturridge’s assistance.” Logan wouldn’t ask Alice to dirty her hands with stepping into the box to hold the trees upright while he shoveled the soil around them, and Brumley clearly couldn’t be relied upon. “Lady Alice, could you go after him for me?”

  “Of course. I suppose he’s out of doors where he won’t hear any ringing of bells. Shall I look in the gardens?”

  “Yes, he should be tending the walks to ensure a clear path for any dancers who go out wandering.”

  “I’ll accompany you,” Brumley announced, rising again. “A young woman shouldn’t have to walk about the gardens alone on a lovely day, though it is a bit cold for my liking.”

  “Stay inside where it’s warm, Lord Brumley. We wouldn’t want you to catch a chill,” Alice urged.

  Logan could see the man wouldn’t be deterred. Brumley probably thought he had his chance to corner Lady Alice and propose. It was time for drastic measures. Logan stuck out his foot and kicked over one of the pots, knowing full well it might cost him the life of a tree. The tree began to topple, and Logan called out. “Crikes! Mr. Brumley, a hand?”

  Brumley looked over to see Logan struggling to keep the tree upright. “Oh dear.”

  The trees were young and Logan wouldn’t have any difficulty holding one of them up on his own, but he pretended to struggle. As soon as Brumley, obligated to lend a hand in crisis, came to assist him, Logan nodded at Alice to slip away.

  Moments later, when Sturridge came in, he did not have Alice with him. It was as Logan had expected, but he felt the sorrier for his loss.

  ***

  Once she fled the room, Alice broke into a run down the hall. Thanks to Winthrop, she’d made a narrow escape. As much as she wanted to return to help him, she wouldn’t risk being too close to Brumley again. She knew Winthrop would understand. They were friends.

  Friends! She laughed with the joy of it, an unexpected triumph. He might have felt he was doing the right thing, letting her down gently. To Alice’s way of thinking, he’d opened the door. Winthrop didn’t have friends. It was an intimacy he almost never allowed himself. Alice had become the closest person to Logan Winthrop in the entire world, next to perhaps Julia Kirkland. And Julia had chosen another.

  Winthrop was far too principled to carry on with a married woman. Wherever she was, Julia was out of his sphere. And Alice was in. Being friends could most certainly lead to more between them. It was an enormous step in the right direction. Friendship could lead to friendly seduction…

  “Mr. Sturridge,” she said, crossing the lawn into the garden, where the man was pruning back errant branches. “I hate to disturb you, but Mr. Winthrop says you’re needed in the conservatory at once.”

  “At once?” He looked up from his shrubbery. “Thank you, Lady Alice. I’ll go straightaway.”

  She watched as he handed his lopping shears to an under gardener and headed for the house. Her work was done. She supposed she should look in on Sophia, a safe enough risk with Eve Thorne still in residence, to check Sophia’s urges to get Brumley alone in a room with Alice. With the ball only days away, Alice figured she would try on her gown for one last fitting. Sophia would probably insist, and so she resigned herself. At least, it would keep her out of Brumley’s way until she could find someone to accompany her back to the Dower House.

  But first, walking by Lord Averford’s study, she had an idea. She stopped at his door and knocked. To her surprise, he called out. She’d expected he might be stalking deer.

  “I only need a moment, Lord Averford.” She peeked her head around the door to see that he’d been in conversation with his brother. Informally, she usually referred to him as Gabriel, his given name, but she couldn’t be sure he wasn’t with more important company until after she’d spoken. “Good day to you, too, Marcus.”

  “Shall I leave you alone?” Marcus stood.

  “You can hear what I have to say. I’ll only be a moment. Please sit.” She stepped in and closed the door. “It’s about Mr. Winthrop.”

  “Winthrop?” Gabriel’s face registered some surprise. No doubt he wondered what she had to do with his estate manager.

  “I’ve been informed that he does not plan to attend the ball. It struck me as a shame, since it was his idea. And of all people, doesn’t it seem that Mr. Winthrop could use a spot of fun? He’s so severe and alone so much of the time. I think it would be good for him to attend.”

  It would be good for her. She remembered his kiss, the way his lips melted into hers, the feel of his tongue questing. The heat deep inside her, making her tremble with the need for more.

  “What brings on this sudden concern for Mr. Winthrop’s welfare?” Marcus asked, a note of suspicion in his voice. No doubt he’d picked up on gossip from that meddling wife of his. Not that Alice didn’t love Eve Thorne like a sister, but one sister interfering in her affairs was quite enough.

  She tried not to give herself away with a blush. “I was talking to him about the lemon trees, which led to a mention of the ball and of course his refusal to attend. To be perfectly honest, I asked him to dance with me when he saw me unoccupied with other partners. Anyone but Mr. Brumley. You should know, Gabriel, that your wife has horrendous taste in men that are not for her.”

  He laughed. “As long as she had the good taste to accept me when I asked her.”

  “Not to be indelicate, but I believe I was one of those men that you suggest reflects Sophia’s taste,” Marcus added.

  She blushed. Sophia had tried to pair her with Marcus before it was obvious that he had eyes only for Eve. “I’m sorry, Marcus
. You were another exception. But you must understand what I mean about Brumley. No one can possibly like the man.”

  “You’re talking about my former schoolmate. If I didn’t like him, he wouldn’t be here,” Gabriel defended.

  “Yes. I see.” Alice felt like she was making a muddle of things. “But I don’t like him, and that’s the point, isn’t it? She wants me to marry him, but would she have me marry a man I don’t even like?”

  “And what does this have to do with Mr. Winthrop again?” Gabriel narrowed his eyes, confused.

  “She doesn’t want to dance with Brumley. She prefers Winthrop,” Marcus summarized.

  “Should we be concerned about you and Mr. Winthrop, Alice? You know I find him a very capable estate manager, but he’s not right for you.”

  “I don’t prefer Winthrop to Lord Brumley. Well, actually, I do. We’re friends, and I prefer almost anyone to Brumley. But, the point is, I just want you to be sure Winthrop makes it to the ball.”

  “You consider Mr. Winthrop a friend?” Marcus pressed the issue. “I didn’t think the man had friends.”

  She was becoming more and more flustered. She should have asked to be alone with Gabriel after all, but it was too late now. “All I want is to be sure that I have plenty of tolerable dance partners that are not Mr. Brumley. Gabriel, please, could you see that Mr. Winthrop attends?”

  He tented his fingers on the desk as if considering and slapped his hands down flat once he’d made a decision. “I’m sorry, Alice. I can’t force the man to go to the ball. If he doesn’t want to go, so be it. I don’t interfere in the private lives of those who serve me.”

  “Isn’t it his job to attend, though?” She crossed her arms. “You can make sure he’s doing his job.”

  “He has done his job as far as I’m concerned. Attending the ball is not part of his duties. Frankly, I’m growing a bit alarmed at your apparent personal interest in Mr. Winthrop. Has he given you any reason to take such interest?”

  Now she’d really done it. She’d made Logan an object of suspicion to his employer.