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Chapter 14
Waking Dreams
Over supper Herbert breathlessly explained just what had taken him so long to return from Wiltshire with the fully repaired carriage. Though it sounded full of interesting twists and turns, Alicia found herself unable to follow much of his story—not only due to the man’s usual meandering style of conversation, nor to Mary-Anne’s constant stream of jokes and interruptions. No, all evening long Alicia was unable to shake the feeling that she had awoken from a beautiful dream into another, much more ominous dream that she had once taken for real life.
It’s over,she repeated to herself blankly again and again.All this is finished. I’m going back home to London.
Laurence would not even look at Alicia during their meal, and each time she glanced at him she saw his teeth were gritted and his brow furrowed.I wonder if he is angry with me?she thought.Angry for my leaving, for breaking his heart, for misusing his feelings or anything else I might have done in my ignorance.
Once this thought occurred to Alicia, it proved difficult to shake. Yet she took a perverse kind of comfort in this rumination.
It’s good that he is angry with me,Alicia thought, staring down at her untouched plate of food.Better angry than despairing—anger can be a good, even satisfactory emotion, and it is much quicker to get over than despair. If it makes his life less miserable, he can be as angry with me as he likes.
Eventually, with great reluctance from all parties, supper was declared to be over, and one by one they filed to their rooms to sleep. Herbert bid her a tearful good-night, still overcome with worry about leaving her alone for so long.
“It’s…quite all right, Herbert,” she told him, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry at the irony of this exchange. “Thank you for taking good care of…everything.”
Seemingly satisfied with this pleasantry, Herbert released a huge yawn and followed Mary-Anne as she showed him to the room where he would be sleeping that night.
“It’ll be good to be back home,” said Jenny as she elbowed Alicia gently in the ribs on her way to the stairs. “Back to your big, fluffy bed, eh, Miss Alicia? When we were in Portsmouth you could hardly talk of anything else.”
Was I really so preoccupied with such trivialities?thought Alicia. But once more she wrestled her mouth into a semblance of a smile. “Indeed. Have a good night’s sleep in the meantime, Jenny.”
“You as well, Miss Alicia.”
For Alicia, though, sleep would not come, and the hours passed interminably slowly as she quietly observed the passage of time through the darkness above her bed. It was not entirely a bad thing, sleeplessness, as she did not wish for this night to pass quickly or easily. All of a sudden, each second in the Gillingham house was a precious one, soon to be gone and never to return. Which is how Alicia heard what was called up through her open window so readily.
Lying atop her covers, still dressed, she was staring up at the now-familiar rafters of her cosy little room when she heard the stage whisper wafting in with the cool nighttime breeze.
“Alicia!”
Alicia did not even pause to question if her ears were deceiving her—in a trice she was at the window, looking down at the open courtyard of the farmhouse. There, bathed in the light of the full moon, she saw her beloved Laurence peering up at her open window.
“Laurence?” she asked, feeling her heart wrench with a sorrow proportionate to the joy she had felt every time she saw his sweet face until just a few hours before.
He shook his head and mouthed something Alicia could not hear, then gestured somewhere off to his left. Drawing in a deep breath to steady herself, Alicia nodded and retreated from her window.
After a harrowing minute of sneaking past creaking floorboards and sleeping figures, Alicia was out in the moonlit night. Though it had been warm enough to leave her window open since arriving, tonight there was a chill in the air, and she felt rather exposed in her thin, pale blue dress. She felt her nipples peak as she wandered outside in the cool of the night, though she was unsure if this reaction was from the temperature or the odd thrill that came with the fear of discovery.
Her heart thundered in her chest as she looked around at the now-familiar sights of the Gillingham farm. Everything was the same as what she saw through her window, but strange and menacing in the dark of night. The barn loomed overhead cloaked in shadows, its noisy occupants eerily hushed at this late hour, and the dusty road she had walked a dozen times now vanished into the black not fifty yards away even on as clear a night as this.
But where is Laurence?Alicia thought with trepidation.And what does he want?The thought of spending even another moment alone with him was a rousing one, but this excitement was tinged with fear, even regret. Was he really angry with her?
“Alicia!”
She jerked her head toward the sound. There he was—standing off at the side of the house, out of sight of any of the windows, a dark hooded lantern in one hand. He motioned for her to approach, and she did so gingerly, glancing up at the darkened house while gliding on tiptoes in his direction.
“Laurence,”she hissed to him as she reached his side. “What are you—?”
Laurence lifted a finger to his mouth, then mouthed “Not here,” jerking his head toward the house. He reached out a hand, inviting her to take it. Alicia could see that though his expression bespoke real seriousness, he was full of the playful energy of a boy sneaking into the kitchen for a snack, and she surrendered to her desire to join in the fun.
Taking his hand, the two dashed quietly down a familiar dirt path, the silence only broken once they had put half a mile between them and any prying ears.
“I’m sorry for the circumstances of this outing,” said Laurence, his hand still wrapped warmly around Alicia’s.
“Are you joking?” she replied, squeezing his hand. “I could never refuse an invitation for an adventure, unorthodox though it may be.”
Especially as we may never get a chance for another one,she left unsaid.
