AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 5
Love Abounding
Mid-afternoons at the Gillingham House appeared to be much the same as mornings. Even with the windows open the old, dark house was a rather warm, close place, and these conditions had compelled Jenny to her chair for a nap. Mary-Anne had gone to her room some time ago, complaining of a headache, and she assumed Laurence was off on some further filthy bit of farm work.
As a consequence, Alicia found herself in a situation that she had longed for quite often yet was wholly unused to: she was alone.
She had decided straight after breakfast that it would be entirely inappropriate to wander about the rooms of the Gillingham house like a common busybody. After all, these people had been kind enough to open their home to her, and it would be most impolite to poke her nose where she was not invited.
Alicia had strictly lived up to this resolution for nearly an hour before she found herself opening doors in search of some way to pass the time. Though from her hosts’ encouraging words she knew she did not have to confine herself to the indoors, the sounds of farm animals and bumblebees pouring in from the windows kept her from trying to go outside. Her dislike of the out-of-doors had been thoroughly reinforced by Laurence’s dirty appearance and Mary-Anne’s story of her husband’s plight. Indoors it was.
Though the house was indeed smaller than most of the noble estates she had had the privilege of visiting around London and certainly smaller than the country houses of the wealthy, it was not so small as Alicia had initially thought.
An hour of wandering the halls revealed a kitchen, the dining room, a handful of small salons or parlours, and a variety of bedrooms in various states of disuse. The furnishings and objects in each room possessed some strange contrast as well: some were well-used to the point of disrepair, while others were so dusty they appeared not to have been touched in a generation or more.
By two o’clock Alicia found herself in a small study or library on the upper floor. In an acquaintance’s house in London, she might have thought it belonged to a child judging by the cramped space and small selection of books.
Though she was happy to see, many of the books were familiar to her, with the odd well-loved Dafoe and Richardson nestled between compendiums of agricultural wisdom.Perhaps those are Mary-Anne’s books,she thought, recalling the vague, distracted responses she had gotten from every gentleman with whom she’d discussed her literary loves.
Seeing one volume sticking partway off the shelf, as though it had been hastily returned to its home, Alicia picked it up curiously. Seeing a scrap of paper stuck partway through, she opened and began to read:
“Sweet are the uses of adversity / Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, / Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; / And this our life, exempt from public haunt, / Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, / Sermons in stones, and good in everything.”
Wide-eyed, she examined the stained and threadbare cover of the tome.A book of Shakespeare’s plays?she thought in surprise. Carelessly tucking the book under her arm, she continued exploring the little library, shaking her head in confusion.
On the desk was a leather-bound ledger containing columns of numbers.Accounts from the farm, I suppose?It was all Greek to her, though it was evident from the complicated list of items and numbers that running even a simple country farm must be a formidable intellectual task.I wonder if I have misjudged Mister Gillingham even more than I realized?she thought, frowning.He may well be more than just a pretty face and friendly manner.
Tired from her hour of exploration, Alicia allowed herself to sit on a shabby old armchair and let her thoughts wander as she watched the dust pass through the brilliant curtain of sunlight that slashed across the room.
Had her progress to London been uninterrupted, she considered, by this time in the day she would have already had a great deal of social correspondence to catch up on. After completing that, she would likely be out repaying visits from acquaintances or attending some function or another, perhaps stopping for a meal in one of the city’s glamorous salons. If she did not have the date wrong, she was expected to attend a premiere at the Opera this evening with Mister Elliot Woodruff, a gentleman friend of hers.
Here in Dunwood, though, her schedule was completely clear. There was nowhere she must go, no one she was expected to see.
Alicia let her thoughts linger a bit longer on this sense of freedom, her imagination conjuring some truly positive aspects of her current situation. While each had its charms, she found herself irked by opera, Mister Woodruff was a terrific bore whose invitation she had accepted only out of a sense of obligation, and she would likely face a thorough dressing-down from Grace for going in the first place. Now, she realized with a smile, rather than count down the movements on the program and wishing for the hours to pass more quickly, she could spend her time however she liked.
Why, if I wanted to, I could…
She stopped. What was it she wanted to do, exactly? This was another question that she had been confronted with only occasionally over the course of her lifetime—every moment was usually claimed by some obligation or another.
Even if she decided she wanted to do any of the things that had become banal to her in her daily life, such things were just not available to her here in the hinterlands. There would be no social engagements here, no performances to go to nor people to see.
Alicia swallowed, her time stretching out before her like a yawning chasm. Freedom suddenly felt a very intimidating thing.
I can very well understand how Missus Stanhope grows bored so quickly here,thought Alicia with a pang of sympathy.Herbert, for the sake of my sanity, may your horse be fleet of foot and the road clear of any other dangers.
She lifted an inch out of her chair as she heard a floorboard squeak at the other end of the room. Unable to prevent a squeak of fright from escaping her mouth, Alicia saw at once that it was Mister Gillingham, seemingly freshly bathed and more properly attired, standing in the doorway with a curious expression on his ruddy face.
“I’m sorry,” she found herself saying. “I just…I saw this room, and I…forgive me for intruding.”Why am I apologizing?she thought, blushing.
“There’s no need for apologies,” the man said with the friendly smile she had come to expect from him. “My sister and I said you were welcome to anything you like in the house, and we meant it.”
“Of course. Err, thank you.”
Alicia felt her muscles tense as she realized she should not be alone in a room with a strange man, especially an unmarried one. But after another heartbeat, she realized the simultaneous impracticality and needlessness of enlisting Jenny as a chaperone.The man is friendly enough and has given me no reason to fear. Let it go this time, Alicia.
A chilly fog of silence rolled through the room. Alicia found herself glancing up at the rafters and over at the window, strangely afraid to look at her handsome host. When she did risk a glance in his direction, she saw his arms were crossed and his eyes were doing the same awkward dance around their surroundings.
“I see you found my Shakespeare,” said Laurence. Her eyes met his and for a long moment, she found herself lost in their unspeakable blueness. In the shining light of the afternoon, even from a few yards away she could see that nestled within their icy colour was a halo of bright gold, complementing his hair beautifully.
