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Chapter 19
Waiting for the Thunderclap
The sound of metal wrenching against metal surprised Laurence enough to send him flying a foot into the air. With the gate slightly ajar, Mister Wentworth wordlessly gestured for Laurence to follow him inside. The old man said in a wary voice that he would see to his horse, but now Laurence was so charged with anticipation that he could scarcely do more than nod.
You’ve made it, Laurence,he thought with satisfaction, walking through the side door into the enormous house.Only a short while longer until Alicia is back in your arms, and from there no thief, no city can set you wrong ever again.
The door opened into a grand corridor that Laurence took an immediate dislike to. The ceiling was higher than any man could need, and it was at once both stuffy and cold in the windowless hallway. Stepping inside slowly, he paused in front of what looked like a long-forgotten family portrait of two young girls sitting on a wine-coloured divan.
That must be Alicia!he thought with a smile, examining the familiar chestnut-coloured curls and green eyes of one of the girls. Then he looked closely at the other and saw a pair of dimples that he had also seen on the face of his beloved.Perhaps the two sisters are not so dissimilar as I had thought. Could this Grace really be as terrible and cruel as Alicia has claimed?
“Miss Grace is waiting for you in the salon.”
Laurence started at the voice calling to him from behind his back. Returning to the gate to gather the reins of Laurence’s weary horse, Mister Wentworth was giving him a look of suspicion.
“Yes, ah, thank you,” he called back in as friendly a voice as he could conjure.
“Turn left at the end of the corridor, then the third door on the right.”
Laurence tossed a friendly wave of comprehension over his shoulder before hastening down the hallway as directed. He fancied he could feel Alicia’s presence in this house, could almost smell her sweet perfume steeped in the walls and furniture, though in truth the place still felt cold and alien to him. Still, the thought gave wings to his feet, and he fairly skipped through the only open doorway, so sure was he that Alicia was just around the corner waiting for him.
Contrasting with his previous impressions of the house, the room in which he now found himself was a beautiful setting. The only element that did not quite match the aesthetic harmony on display was the young woman in a peculiar black dress reclined on a chaise longue. Something about her—her expression, her posture, the odd tufts of lace at her shoulders—struck Laurence as vaguely unsettling, a feeling that was only heightened as she shot him a cold look without moving from her place.
“Yes?” she asked. “I am Grace Ramsbury. What is this message you are carrying for me, now?”
“I’m afraid there has been a bit of a misunderstanding,” said Laurence, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You see, I was unsure if your servant would…I do not really…” He discarded one excuse, then another, before deciding it would be best to cut to the heart of the matter instead. “I have come to see Miss Alicia Ramsbury, actually.”
The woman’s features darkened, her eyes glistened in the candlelight. Grace looked him over once more, her eyes betraying a caustic glare barely hidden behind her long brown lashes. “And just who are you, sir, to deceive your way into our house to call on my sister?”
“Laurence Gillingham,” he answered simply. Seeing the woman’s blank expression, it occurred to Laurence that more might be required when introducing oneself to a proper gentlewoman, so he stammered, “Of, er, Gillingham Farm. In Dunwood, to the south. At your…service?” He gave a quick bow, suddenly aware of how awkwardly his frame fit among the delicate furniture and decorations of the room.
“Oh!” the young woman exclaimed, covering her mouth with a dainty, gloved hand in surprise. “Then…you are the man with whom my sister stayed while our carriage was damaged.”
Laurence laughed, awkwardly rubbing his neck before he realized the shower of road dust this would scatter onto the elegant carpet. “Indeed, I had the privilege of aiding Miss Alicia in her moment of need. In fact, I was hoping to see her, which is why I have ridden here this evening. If she is not indisposed, perhaps I could just—”
“Why, that’s splendid!” Grace interjected, rising from her seat and giving Laurence a third thorough examination from head to toe. For a moment, as her expression flickered for just an instant, Laurence had the strangest feeling that he was a steer on the butcher’s block. “Splendid,” she repeated. “Just marvellous.”
Err…thank you, yes, I—”
“But won’t you sit down?” Grace said sweetly, gesturing toward a nearby empty wooden chair. “You must be terribly weary after your travels, I imagine. Please, I beg you, make yourself welcome.”
Laurence grinned innocently.Whatever problem Alicia may have had with her sister, the woman certainly is more hospitable than I had imagined.“Thank you, Miss Ramsbury, that is good of you.” He sat heavily in the chair, suddenly acutely aware of how sore his limbs felt from his hard ride.
Looking up, he again saw a flash of something cross Grace’s face, but then it was erased once more by her friendly smile. “Do you need anything? I could send for some food, perhaps, or a glass of wine?”
“No, thank you.” Though Laurence’s stomach was powerfully empty from the day’s exertion, the thought of Alicia behind one of the row of doors he had passed filled him with more appealing sustenance. “Is Miss Alicia in, then, or would it be best—”
“It is so very good of you to have watched after my wayward sister!” laughed Grace, posing once more on her long seat. “Why, my sister has told mesomuch about you.”
Laurence felt himself smile, picturing how Alicia might describe him to an elegant woman such as this. “It was my pleasure. Your sister is a very special woman.”
“Hah! More than even I know, it seems.” Her smile beat down on him like the noonday sun. “To think that she shared such an…intimate week with a strapping man such as yourself.”
His heart leapt into his chest at these words.I say, how much did Alicia tell her sister about us?Suddenly filled with worry about his beloved’s reputation, he half-stood and put his hands up in a reassuring posture. “Miss Ramsbury, I hope you do not misunderstand my affections for your sister. While I may not be a respected member of your social circles, I in no way impugned Alicia’s honour or allowed her reputation to be damaged, I promise you that.”
“Certainly not,” Grace said simply through her frozen smile.
He looked at Grace carefully before continuing.She is important to Alicia, and by all accounts a friendly and personable woman,he reasoned. Even if I do not need her permission to ask to court Alicia, it could not hurt to do this as properly as I can manage.
