greet her and Laura took a deep breath, composed herself and entered the house, into a bustle of servants and luggage.
‘Lady Laura, good afternoon, my lady. I am Rogers.’
‘Of course, I remember you, Rogers. Good afternoon.’
The butler gestured to a footman. ‘Lady Birtwell is receiving guests in the Chinese Room. Would you care to go to your chamber first—?’
The high-pitched screams of excited children drowned his words. The butler’s carefully schooled expression slipped for a moment into something close to a wince. Laura realised she was wincing back. ‘I beg your pardon, my lady. I trust the children will not disturb you. Lady Birtwell enjoys the sound of young voices.’
‘It is lovely to hear them enjoying themselves, Rogers.’ Laura forced a smile on her lips. She had not realised there would be children here, that echoes of Alice’s laughter would haunt every room. ‘I will just go up to my...’
Her voice trailed away as the noise grew louder. Half-a-dozen children ran from the garden door at the back of the hall to tumble to a halt as they realised where they were. A sheepish silence fell, broken only by the shuffling of feet and the sound of a hoop being dropped with a clatter on the marble floor.
‘Now then, young ladies and gentlemen, this is not the place to be playing, is it?’ Rogers chided. ‘Lady Laura has only just this moment arrived and she must think this a menagerie.’
The biggest boy piped up, ‘Sorry, Lady Laura, we didn’t mean to disturb you. We’ll go out.’ He turned and ran back, his companions eddying around him, leaving one small girl standing staring at Laura, her mouth open.
The solid marble floor seemed to shift under Laura’s feet. Behind her she heard the sound of crunching gravel and voices and realised the archery party was coming back.
‘Aunt C...’ Alice Falconer whispered, her eyes wide and hurt on Laura’s face.
Laura froze, then instinct took over. She raised one finger to her lips and shook her head at Alice. The words died unsaid on the child’s lips as Laura crossed the floor to her side. She bent and whispered, ‘I am not really Caroline Jordan—that was just a disguise.’
‘You were hiding?’ Alice whispered back, eyes wide. The sparkle of tears had become one of excitement.
‘Yes, a bad man was after me.’ As soon as she spoke Laura worried that she had frightened the child, but Alice’s eyes were alight with excitement.
‘Like an adventure story? Is that why you had to go away from Westerwood?’
‘Yes, I am very sorry.’ Laura crouched down so she could murmur without Rogers overhearing. ‘We must pretend we do not know each other. Can you do that?’ It was wrong to ask the child to practise deception, but it was for her protection, too. ‘You may tell your papa, of course.’ Even if her father was Avery Falconer, she could not allow Alice to lie to him or to encourage her in deceit.
Alice nodded vigorously, then whirled round and ran after the others, ringlets bobbing. As she reached the door she turned, put her finger theatrically to her lips and waved. She seemed thrilled with her new secret.
‘My goodness, do you not know who that child is?’
Laura straightened up and turned to find Lady Amelia Woodstock surrounded by a group of young ladies Laura knew, more or less, from that Season’s events.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Amelia. I have no idea,’ Laura lied with a smile. ‘A pretty girl, is she not?’
‘That is Lord Wykeham’s bastard.’ The other girls gave shocked giggles at the word. ‘I think it is disgraceful that he brings her to a respectable house party like this.’
‘She is an innocent child.’ Laura kept her voice reasonable and pleasant as she held on to her temper with an effort. ‘You cannot visit her parents’ sins on her head.’
‘Perhaps you aren’t as worried about appearances as the rest of us,’ Lady Amelia said with a toss of blonde curls. ‘But those of us who are not still on the shelf have to maintain higher standards.’
The effort to remain pleasant was so difficult that Laura scarcely registered the insult. ‘Provided her father is not intending to create any more babies while he is here I really do not think we are in moral danger, any of us.’
‘Ooh!’ squeaked one of the young ladies. They were loving the frisson of scandal and her bold words, Laura could tell. Now they would giggle and whisper together and pretend a delicious alarm every time Avery hove into view.
Avery. In her shock at seeing Alice every other thought had fled. Now she realised that the only reason the child could be here was because Avery was, too. Why on earth hadn’t Lady Birtwell told her? And why hadn’t she had the sense to ask who the other guests were in the first place? Because I was so agitated about Avery and that encounter in the park, that’s why. I just wanted to run away and I have run right into the enemy’s lair.
‘Lady Laura?’
Laura blinked at the woman standing in front of her, hands neatly crossed over her lace-edged apron. It did not take the large bunch of keys hanging from a chatelaine to tell her this was the housekeeper, new since her last visit. Run away now while you still can. Turn and say it is a mistake, you aren’t staying...
‘May I show you to your room, my lady?’
Reality swept over her, stark enough to steady her reeling thoughts. She could not leave now—too many people had seen her and this flock of silly, gossip-mad girls would make a scandal broth of speculation if she fled moments after walking in through the door. Somehow she would have to find Avery and tell him what had happened, make him understand she had meant no harm.
‘Yes, of course. Thank you. Come along, Mab.’ Smile, walk, behave normally. See? No one has noticed anything is wrong.
* * *
The door had hardly shut behind the housekeeper before Mab burst out, ‘That was her! Miss Alice—so his lordship’s here, too. What are we going to do, my lady?’
‘It is all under control.’ Mab’s unexpected panic calmed her, gave her focus as she reassured her. ‘Alice will pretend she does not know me and I will seek a private interview with Lord Wykeham and explain.’ She had said nothing to her maid about that last, disastrous encounter and Avery’s threats. ‘Now, help me tidy up because I must go down to see Lady Birtwell, it is only courteous not to delay.’
‘What if he is down there?’
‘Lord Wykeham will not make a scene in front of everyone, Mab.’ At least, she hoped he would control his temper long enough for her to get him alone and explain.
* * *
Washed, tidied and outwardly composed, Laura made her way towards the head of the stairs. Someone moved in a cross corridor and she glanced along it to see a man close a door behind him and walk off towards the servants’ back stairs, a coat draped over his arm. She recognised him from Westerwood Manor: it was Darke, Avery’s valet.
Without giving herself time to lose her nerve, Laura turned into the passage. At the door she hesitated, hand on the knob, then the sound of voices from the direction of the stairs made up her mind for her. She could not be found standing alone on the corridor reserved for the bachelors outside a gentleman’s bedchamber door.
With a twist of the wrist the door was open and Laura was inside, as breathless as if she had run. She closed the door and leaned against it while she caught her breath.
Avery, in his shirtsleeves, was standing with his back to her, head bent over the sheaf of papers in his hand. ‘Yes, Darke?’ he said without turning.
‘It is not Darke,’ Laura said.