Page 59 of The Earl’s Inconvenient Nemesis

“I need to borrow your uniform for a few hours. I must speak with someone and cannot be recognised walking the streets at night.”

“But I can arrange for a message to be delivered,” Beth suggested. “Or I can take it myself.”

“Thank you, Beth, that is very kind, but it must be me who goes.”

“I do not think that a very good idea, Miss Fairfax…”

“You are probably right,” Alice said with a nervous laugh. “It is likely a terrible idea, but I must do it and I need your help. I promise I shall be careful and will only be gone a short while. I shall be back well before my aunt returns.”

Beth looked deeply uncertain, and Alice felt a pang of guilt. She did not wish to involve the maid and make her worry, but she could think of no other way.

“Please, Beth. I would not ask if it were not truly important. And you know I would never allow you to suffer for helping me.”

“Very well, miss,” Beth said at last, though she shook her head. “But please keep to the main roads and well-lit areas.”

“I will,” Alice reassured her.

“I shall fetch you a clean uniform,” Beth said, still looking reluctant.

Once Alice’s disguise was complete, she slipped out of the front door of her aunt’s house, praying no one would notice. As a maid, she ought to have used the servants’ entrance, but there was far more risk of encountering household staff that way.

She kept her head down and walked briskly toward Anthony’s residence, hoping her simple maid’s attire of a plain grey dress with white apron and cap and a dark cloak would allow her to pass unnoticed. She stuck to the main roads as promised, but they were strangely quiet. The reason became clear when heavy rain began to fall. Thankfully Beth had lent her the cloak, but it offered little protection against the driving downpour.

She was more than halfway to Anthony’s house before it occurred to her that he might not even be at home. The thought, combined with the rain now lashing into her face, nearly convinced her to turn back. But he could not be available tomorrow either, and then she would have to visit him accompanied by her aunt . . . She steeled herself and pressed on. If he was not there, she would enquire at his clubs. As a maid, she could ask after him without raising suspicion.

The walk felt endless. She had only ever travelled by carriage in the evenings before, and never alone. Terrible stories of what could happen to young ladies out at night ran through her mind.

She walked faster, staying close to the street lamps and glancing around frequently.

A black cat darting across her path nearly stopped her heart, and she broke into a run, grateful the streets were empty.

Finally, she stood before Anthony’s imposing townhouse, which looked even more grand and intimidating at night. What on earth was she thinking? She could not possibly march up to the front door dressed as a maid. She would be turned away instantly. She would have to go round to the servants’ entrance . . . But what would she say? What if one of the staff recognised her? She needed to work out what to do and fast before someone saw her loitering outside.

She slipped around the side of the house toward the mews to think and to see Rosalind. Hiding in the mare’s stall would at least get her out of the rain and give her time to form a plan.

She heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the stables and saw Rosalind. The mare whinnied softly in greeting. “Shush,” Alice whispered, slipping into the stall. “No one is supposed to know I am here.”

She stroked the horse’s warm neck, trying to calm her own racing heart and decide what to do next. She could still turn back. Only Beth knew she had left, and her aunt would not return for hours. No harm would be done if she simply went home, dried off, and forgot this foolish escapade.

But she had come this far. This might be her only chance to speak with Anthony alone. She could not continue with things as they were between them. She just needed to work out what to say and try to ensure that she was not recognised. Maybe she could put on an accent . . .

Alice jumped as she heard the sound of a carriage coming down towards the stables. Anthony’s carriage presumably.

Alice ducked down, peeping cautiously over the top of the stable’s half door as the carriage pulled to a halt in front of the stables.

The carriage door opened and Anthony exited it. Alice watched as Anthony helped Sarah climb out. The driver got down and Anthony said something to him before reaching inside the carriage and re-emerging with a sleeping Charlie in his arms.

“I cannot believe we had the carriage brought round the back so Charlie could say goodnight to the horses, only for him to fall fast asleep on the way home!” Anthony said with a soft laugh.

Sarah smiled. “It is late, and he has had a very exciting evening.”

“True. Let us get him inside and into bed,” Anthony replied, gazing down at the boy with clear affection.

They looked like a perfect little family as they disappeared through the garden gate.

Alice felt as though she had been struck in the chest. She had known that she would not be able to bear this sight, but seeing it so unexpectedly, so intimately, was far worse than she had imagined. She rose quickly, intending to flee back to Aunt Jane’s house and wallow in private.

“Oi! What are you doing there?” a male voice called from the shadows. “Come out where I can see you.”