"Do you need anything more of me?" he asked.
"No, milord," she said.
"Then I’ll leave you to your grooming and take the noon meal with you, if that is satisfactory."
"Aye, milord," she responded.
He moved to the door and stepped out, closing it behind him. Alicia moved slightly and looked at the closed door, remembering the face and voice. The door suddenly popped open and he startled her again. "Lock the door, madam. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you now."
"Yes, milord," she said again. The door closed and she did as he ordered. Then she looked at the door again. A slow smile crept over her face. "Yes, milord," she repeated, her eyes beginning to glow with pleasure. "Oh, yes, milord."
Four
The life of Charlotte Bellamy had been completely dull, from the point of view of Alicia. Geoffrey Seavers sat across the small table in her room at the inn and told her all he knew of the young woman. She had lived in the small farming village, remained mostly uneducated but for what her aunt was willing to teach her, and had few friends. She was virtually unknown until it was discovered that she was due an inheritance.
Seavers had made it his business to talk to those few men who had known Fergus Bellamy closely during his service to the crown. He asked after the knight’s reputation and had expected to learn something of this woman he was seeking to wed. But the questions gained him few answers. Fergus seldom spoke of his daughter and did not visit her or bring her to London that she might be introduced to his friends. It appeared likely that Fergus used the presence of offspring to facilitate the restoration of the lands he felt he deserved. It was poor timing on the knight’s part, in that case, to die so abruptly and never have the chance to enjoy his estate.
"Little enough for me to remember," Alicia reported with a shrug when Geoffrey had completed his story.
"Aye, there’s little, but it would do nicely if you could make attempts to remember your father regularly and with sadness."
"And the aunt?" she questioned.
"From what Rodney was able to learn, she was not fond of Charlotte and they did not share much love. Much mention of her seems unnecessary." He looked at her across the short distance and nodded once. "You shall have to accustom yourself to the name, however. And with all due respect, I shall be addressing you as Charlotte from now on. Even in our private moments."
"Our private moments, milord? I didn’t think there would be many of those." Geoffrey’s look was somewhat puzzled, not confused by her statement, but certainly at a loss as to how to deal with it. "I understood I was to play the part of Charlotte, not become her entirely."
"We shall have to share rooms," he said. "Surely you understand that."
Alicia simply met his eyes. She was not prepared to face his anger, but neither would she let him think that any desire he harbored would be met by this eager slave. She recognized his plan—and had one of her own.
"I hope you have prepared yourself to play the part of a wife, Alicia. For what all eyes see, you should be devoted to my needs and dependent on my strong arm. That certainly requires that we at least share rooms. For the sake of talkative servants, if nothing else."
"You will not be disappointed in my performance, Lord Seavers, but do you expect too much? Am I to live the part I play, or simply play the part well?"
Geoffrey smiled lazily. He leaned back from the table slightly as he studied her face. "Business shall prevent me from spending a great deal of time with you. Indeed, Alicia, our private moments together should prove to be few. I doubt you’ll be worn out by my presence."
"And is that in keeping with what should appear to be a ‘loving marriage?’" she asked innocently.
His eyes darkened somewhat. "It is well known that this is not a marriage built on a foundation of love, but one of inheritance. Still, I think it behooves us both to show those who will look closely that there is a certain fondness between us, once we take up the roles of man and wife." He leaned closer again. "I am not a man bent on commitments or attachments, Alicia. Not at this time in my life. My purpose is to remain free of bonds and ties. Do not fall in love with me or you will be hurt."
"You worry without cause," she returned with bravado.
"You are very young, my dear," he said in a condescending tone. "I suppose you dream of love and castles and many children, and perhaps you’ll find all that at some future time, but—"
"I dream of a fair amount of work in return for freedom and my hundred pounds, Lord Seavers. That is all."
"Then you should be prepared to give me as much as a year of your time, madam, and I will give you aid in seeking some new location and identity."
"That will be fine, Geoffrey," she said. His eyes sparked slightly at the sound of his given name, the reaction she had hoped for. "The name, Geoffrey. You should become accustomed to hearing me use it. Even in our most private moments."
His brows raised slightly and a half smile was his answer. Yes, she was quick. Quick enough to carry off this masquerade without difficulty. He admired her for protecting herself, but a small part of him would not trust her. A better bargain might buy her betrayal. He made a mental note to watch her carefully.
The time that Geoffrey spent with her was minimal, but he was careful, at least, to see that she was not left unprotected at the inn. When he was not there to escort her in and out of the building, Rodney was with her. Only short and carefully guarded walks for exercise and fresh air were allowed and meals were delivered to her room. When the sun was lowering and the men in the tavern became loud and energetic, Rodney was with her through the night.
Little was needed in the way of educating Alicia in better speech patterns, for it was well known that Charlotte would be at a temporary disadvantage in the court. In fact, Charlotte may not have done as well, for Alicia was not only well-spoken, but had a special knack for adapting herself to a new situation. And though no one was quite certain how much personal wealth Charlotte had enjoyed, it could be assumed that her aunt would at least have made sure that she would have some decent clothes and shoes for her journey to London. Only four days were needed to accumulate those things and the other small accoutrements of a lady and make ready for another journey—this time out of the city.
Early in the morning, before the sun was risen, Rodney and Alicia mounted two horses and rode south of London to yet another inn. With a scant amount of baggage tied to the animals, they made a hurried trip. After a brief night in a country inn, they stabled the horses and waited for a London coach. A convenient tale to the driver got them quick service. Rodney explained that he was delivering Lady Charlotte to Whitehall, where she would be given over as ward to Charles himself, but their coach had broken down and would take days to repair. The sympathetic driver offered his services directly to the palace.
Alicia had thought herself well enough prepared, especially after days of discussion and anticipation. But that was before she had even seen Whitehall, the monstrous palace that seemed, from her small window in the coach, to stretch for miles. Her stomach lurched and she felt as though she would be swallowed alive by the building, the people, the plan.
Rodney jumped from the coach and helped the driver get the luggage to the ground. "My lady," he urged from outside. The door stood open and Alicia made no move. "Lady?" he questioned. He looked into the coach and saw that she sat back in the seat, her hands folded in her lap and her eyes focused on the opposite seat. She had expressed no fear or apprehension until now. He understood immediately what he must do. His hand rested lightly on hers and he leaned into her gaze. "Lady Charlotte," he urged gently. "We’ve arrived." And in a very soft voice he added, "I won’t leave you right away and I promise you’ll be all right."
With a deep breath she prepared to disembark, holding on to Rodney’s steady hand the entire time. Her trembling was hidden in the large hand that helped her. Her knees threatened to buckle as she stood on the ground before the palace, but true to his word, Rodney did not allow h
er to test her strength. He tucked her arm in his and gave her a moment to judge the huge structure and gain her composure.
Alicia had no way of knowing what portion of the palace they entered. Her wild imagination insisted that just inside the double doors she faced, there would be a huge gallery and a great king on the dais at the end. What she could plainly see were several handsomely garbed gentlemen lounging and laughing with two elegantly gowned young women. The finest dress she had ever worn in her life seemed a rag in comparison. She had risen early in the morning to labor over her hair, for the use of ribbons and pins was new to her, but she could see from the modern and artistic coiffures of the ladies that she was nothing more than a peasant. Her trembling hand uneasily touched what had earlier seemed a daring curl.
Her eyes met Rodney’s. She was feeling physical pain in her back and legs just from the fear of passing them to enter Whitehall. His eyes were warm and reassuring, his mouth firmly set in a confident smile. He patted the hand that touched his arm and took a step, refusing to delay any longer lest she faint from fear of the unknown.
Alicia had expected the nobles at the door to present their backs as she passed, so weak was her self-esteem at the moment. But to her surprise, plumed hats were swept off and bows greeted her.
Rodney bowed in return. "I’ve brought Lady Charlotte Bellamy by His Majesty’s request," he announced loudly. "Can anyone direct me to her apartments?"
One handsome young man spoke out quickly. "I can’t say where she’s lodging, sir, but her arrival is all the talk. The guard will know and will take you himself." The man then bowed again, and addressed Alicia. "Welcome, my lady. Your servant."
Alicia smiled nervously, feeling her normal breathing return for a moment. She detected a kindness, and some of the fear dissipated, but quickly returned when she noticed one of the young maids speaking behind her fan to the other, and the laughter was loud in their eyes. Here, as at the inn and other places, she would be cut apart from the other young women and ostracized. Her heart began to flutter anew. But to the young man who had been pleasant, she smiled again and nodded once.
Within the palace, the galleries were large and spacious, but there was no great hall just inside. Rather, there were bustling servants, lazy guards, and dogs flopped on the floors. The driver of the coach gawked and moaned so as he entered with the baggage that Alicia’s staring did not look so obvious. After questioning several people just inside the door, a uniformed footman went off to ask where the lady was to be taken. Rodney and Alicia were left to wait and watch people pass without a nod or word of greeting.
Rodney was beginning to chafe at the wait when a servant, not the man sent, but one wearing different livery, approached them in the gallery. He looked the three of them up and down, smirked slightly at the worn baggage, and faced Rodney to ask, "Lady Charlotte Bellamy?"
Rodney’s eyes glared at the man’s careless manner, and he took a breath, his frame looming larger. There was only one woman present and she had not been acknowledged at all. Rodney did not know if his anger came in defense of Alicia, of etiquette, or of respect due the young heiress. "I am Lady Charlotte’s escort, man. This is Lady Charlotte." He lifted Alicia’s hand as if to present her and made it clear with his eyes that he would not allow her to be treated with such nonchalance again.
"If you’ll follow me, madam."
They traveled through what seemed miles of corridors and galleries, Alicia’s shoes clicking on the floors and the driver gasping and exclaiming behind them at every turn. She tried to memorize their journey, fearing she would never find her way out of the maze, but after the first few moments she gave up and simply followed. At the entrance to what was to be her living quarters, Rodney turned to the servant and asked if the king would be notified of Lady Charlotte’s arrival. And after a brief nod they were abandoned.
The space that had been allowed Alicia was minimal in comparison to what prestigious guests and tenants in Whitehall received, but for a simple country maid it was a castle in itself. Seven beautifully furnished rooms lay before her eyes. Among the furnishings were a four-poster in her bedchamber, a huge dressing mirror, and thick draperies. Two of the rooms had rugs, a luxury she had never before known. The high sheen on the dining table shocked her, and the padded chair before the hearth left her breathless. She had never in her life seen such wealth.
Rodney followed her from room to room after he had dismissed the gawking driver. She was too overwhelmed even to smile but meandered from wall to door, chest to table, touching and testing. It was safe to assume that Alicia did not even ken what all these rooms were for. Entertaining was something she had never done, but for the entertainment she provided the men in the tavern when she walked from table to keg to table.
Rodney saw that those who had prepared her rooms had neglected what was possibly the most important article Alicia would be needing.
"When you’re somewhat settled, lady, I shall have to find you a woman."
"A woman?" she questioned.
"Before long you shall have several, I am sure. For now, you will need one. And quickly."
"She will clean?"
Rodney chuckled slightly. "She will help you dress, fix your hair, serve your meals, and accompany you whenever you go abroad. A companion of sorts, madam. If I am lucky, I will find a woman who has served noble ladies before."
It took just a moment for this to register, and then with a smile she said, "That is a position I would have liked to have."
There was such delight glowing on her face that Rodney could not hold back his grin. He looked at the slender form before him, and at the excitement in her eyes and natural poise with which she held herself, and he knew he had been right to choose her. "I think, my lady, that your future bodes much better than that."
"Kind Rodney," she said softly. "You have so many hopes for me, so much kindness and patience...but must you be reminded that this is not really different from what I have always known? I travel from one life to another, fitting myself into a place as best I can for a short time and then moving along to the next. The people I have known I give up, for they do not follow me to the next place. The rooms where I’ve slept I never see again, and the clothes I’ve worn are given to me and then taken away." She gestured with an arm to the beautiful surroundings. "It is grand, sir, but it is not mine and it is not for long." She reached out and touched his hand. "Sadly enough, you will not be my friend for very long. It will be hard for me to say good-bye."
"Madam, I think it a bit soon to talk of good-bye."
The glitter of excitement vanished from her eyes and with a look of sadness she answered him. "But I must not let myself forget, dear friend, that this will not last long. I cannot let myself learn to love—"
Before she could finish her statement, there was a loud knock at the door and Rodney looked in that direction. He did not rush to see who called, for he wanted her to complete what she was saying. Love riches? he wondered. Love the fine lodgings? Servants? Lord Seavers?
"The door, Rodney," she said. "Shall I?"
"Allow me, madam," he said, turning toward the door. Alicia was close behind him, curious about the visitor. They found the same servant that had directed them. "His Majesty has many appointments and bids you be comfortable until he can come to welcome you himself."
"My lady would be pleased to go to the king," Rodney offered. Alicia listened raptly, these courtly manners intriguing her. Certainly she would be pleased to go to the king, but it had not occurred to her to offer.
"He has no time to see her now and the wait could be a long one," the servant replied. "Take your leisure and he will come when there is time."
Rodney faced Alicia again when the man had gone and the door was closed. "You were saying, madam?" he questioned.
She laughed lightly. "I just heard that the king is coming to call and you expect me to remember what I’ve been saying?"
"Understandable, madam. You’ll be needing some things that I can send for if
you’ll be all right alone here for a time."
"Will Lord Seavers be coming here soon?"
"I think not, lady. You see, he does not know you yet."
A strange and almost victorious look crossed her eyes. She glanced around the room and a smile played on her lips. "That’s right. He does not know me yet."
Rodney studied the expression and recounted the words of just moments before; her declaration that she would not allow herself to be attached to any of this—any of these people. Floating around in her mind somewhere, Rodney guessed, there was more hope and fight than she would admit to or allow to be seen. And he reckoned it was not the fine furnishings or the prestigious position she was aiming to secure for herself. He thought perhaps this young woman before him, now an unblossomed rose, sought the love of a man and the commitment that could accompany it.
"I imagine there will be a formal introduction," Rodney said, unable to suppress a sly grin. Alicia merely lifted her eyes in his direction, showing little, saying naught. "Do your worst," he advised in a knowing way.
"Kind sir," she returned indignantly, covering her inner longings as best she could but concealing them from Rodney very poorly, "I assure you I shall try my hardest to do my best."
"I am Lord Seavers’s man, madam, and he depends on my loyalty, but there is a thing I would have you know: I would not betray him or lie to him, but whenever you need my aid, I am your servant."
Alicia’s heart grew soft and pliant as she luxuriated in a fatherly concern, the likes of which she had not known before now. "I promise you, sir, I intend only to serve Lord Seavers as faithfully as you do."
Rodney nodded and departed, and Alicia took a moment to wander around her splendid new abode, touching the rich coverings on the furniture and turning full circle to take in the four walls and ceilings of every room. When she finally paused in her tour, she did so before the dressing table and mirror in her large bedchamber. She pulled pins from her hair and let the shining tresses fall to her shoulders. She reminded herself that there was work to be done on her stylishness, but what she saw in her reflection now, for once in a decent mirror that did not mar her complexion, was pleasing to the eye. And she would pay close attention to the ladies, learning from them how to make the most of her appearance.