Filed To Story: Alessia Mistaken as Mistress Book PDF Free
His expression denoted he’d been taken aback by her vehemence.
“Do you think I wanted Stephen dead?” she asked, her voice louder and more shrill than she’d intended. She took a deliberate calming breath.
He tossed the cigar into the flames and moved from the fire.
Alessia’s pulse pounded in her veins. She had no business arguing with this man. She had no place angering him, or opposing him, or even challenging his right to his doubts and anger. She was nothing to him. But Stephen and
Claire’s kindness and generosity had meant everything to her. They had meant her life.
“No, I don’t believe you wanted Stephen dead,” he said finally, his voice calm, his tone under control. “But I’m not convinced of the reasons you married him.”
Alessia kept silent. She didn’t say that it didn’t matter what he thought Claire’s reasons were. Stephen had married her. The deed was done and obviously the legal ramifications of his financial planning were binding. The way she saw it, if Claire were still alive and here right now, Nicholas’s responsibility would have been to carry out his brother’s wishes regarding his wife and child.
Alessia believed he knew that, too. “And what of the responsibilities you spoke of?”
“I will honor my brother’s will,” he said without answering her question.
“What about his marriage? His wife? Will you honor them?” She cringed as soon as the words were out. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to argue with you. Just tell me what you expect of me.”
He moved to stand a few feet from her. “I expect, Claire, that you will honor the Halliday name. That you will behave in a manner suiting a Halliday. And that you will start to assume the duties my mother has performed all these years on her own. It wasn’t always easy for her. The early days, while the foundry was getting started, were hard. She deserves some rest now.”
Alessia had no doubt that was true. Besides, she would feel better if she were earning her keep. She owed more than that to Stephen.
“I have no wife,” he continued. “If and when I choose to marry, my wife will share the tasks.”
“What exactly is it you want me to do?”
“See to the entertaining, the running of the household. Supervise the servants, shop, plan the menus. Mother will help you learn.”
She would be expected to play the part of Claire in front of guests. The idea brought a cold dread to her limbs. “How often do you entertain?”
He met her gaze, and his expression was unreadable. He was probably thinking the idea terrified her, but for different reasons. “Whenever business associates are in town. Once or twice a month. Perhaps more often. Maybe less.”
Assuming Leda’s responsibilities disturbed her more than anything. What would happen once Alessia left? With any luck, she would only have to entertain a few times. But then she’d be on her way and Leda would be left with all the work again.
This was only getting her in deeper.
If Claire had been here, she’d have gone along with Nicholas’s wishes, though, would she not? What else could she have done? She would have owed it to her baby to learn her position and see to his future.
That was the way Alessia would have to play it. Anything else would seem too suspicious. “All right. Will you speak with your mother about this?”
“I’ll talk to her in the morning.”
She recognized the tension in the set of his shoulders, the way he held his head. “I’ll do my best.”
His look was one of uncertainty mixed with a dash of surprise. “See that you do.”
It wasn’t a threat. Not really. But Alessia escaped to her room, feeling as though there would be dire results if she failed this test.
What did she care? She had only a few more weeks at the most to remain and bear the brunt of Nicholas’s resentment. After that she’d take William and find a place far from Mahoning Valley. A place where she could start over and build a new life.
A place where no one knew her or expected anything from her.
She would get by until then. She had no choice now.
Of course. William’s christening had to be the first event on the schedule. And a reception to follow. Stephen had been buried and mourned; now the Halliday heir must be welcomed.
Alessia cringed at the thought of bringing her imposter heir into the presence of God and asking His blessing. What adverse fate awaited her after this latest in her long line of transgressions?
Somehow, while organ music filled the Youngstown church and the scents of candle wax and expensive perfumes wafted through the air, she made it through the ceremony. Alessia didn’t allow herself to think about her child being christened with a false name. And as each time something this monumental had shaken her to her very soul, she thought of her father, silently cursing Morris Thornton for his role in this charade.
She longed for her old home, for the safety and security she’d once foolishly believed were hers. Her misjudgment had changed all that, and she’d been swift to learn that her father had only loved her as long as she’d been an asset to him, as long as she’d never been a burden or an embarrassment.
William would never learn a cruel lesson like that, she vowed. She would love him no matter what he did. She would be a compassionate and forgiving parent. Alessia made her silent oath before leaving the church and hurrying to the house to oversee the last-minute preparations.
The reception was informal, with a buffet set up in the dining hall. Nicholas observed that after a servant had taken each new guest’s coat and added their gifts to the growing pile, Claire greeted each one personally. Everything about her dress and behavior that day was exemplary, from her gentle admonitions when the help didn’t attend to the food table quickly enough, to the way she welcomed the guests.
She didn’t know these Wick Avenue industrialists and bankers from the man in the moon, yet he passed a small group she stood within and overheard the questions she asked to stimulate conversation.
“If this canal is such a grand idea, why hasn’t the project been undertaken?” she asked.
“Far too costly,” replied Edward Coughlin, a retired banker. “And the mills are doing more business by train than by barge now.”
“The canal idea has been kicked around for a hundred years,” Mayor Veys said. “One of these days someone will come up with enough money to underwrite the project.”
Mayor Veys seemed taken with Claire. Nicholas noted the way the hawk-nosed widower preened beneath her attention. He observed as she drifted to another group, somehow managing to make her steps with the crutches appear graceful.
“What do you think of my sister-in-law?” Nicholas asked, reminding Phillip Veys that the object of his attention was a Halliday and under Nicholas’s protection.
“A striking woman. Damn shame about your brother. They must have been a fetching couple. She’s young and beautiful. She’ll remarry soon.”
Nicholas’s stare swung from the mayor to Claire. Remarry? It was perfectly natural for someone to think that.
Yes, she was young. And she was beautiful. And why should she settle for a lonely life as a rich widow when she could be a doubly rich wife?
“You haven’t been at the theater for a while,” Edward said to Nicholas. They shared a box in the balcony, and Nicholas usually accompanied Leda. “Why don’t you bring Claire on Saturday evening? She and the missus can get acquainted-give her a chance to get to know someone.”
The Coughlins were the cream of Youngstown society. Once welcomed into their circle, Claire would be an important part of the social structure. Nicholas followed her with his eyes.
Milos Switzer, wearing handsomely creased black trousers and a gray coat, stood off to one side of the drawing room. Claire stepped over to speak with him. He leaned forward, a lock of his sandy hair habitually falling over one temple. His steel gray eyes held a perceptible spark of interest.
“Saturday night then, Nicholas?” Edward asked.
Claire seemed to say something just for Milos’s ears, and touched his sleeve. He smiled and responded to her words, and Nicholas couldn’t explain the unease their exchange evoked.
“Yes,” he replied. “We’ll see you then.” Moving swiftly across the room, he drew up beside his sister-inlaw.
Milos looked up. “Claire has done a marvelous job with the food, hasn’t she?” he asked. “Did you try the goose p?t??”
Nicholas tried to reason with his unfounded exasperation. “Yes. Mother is an excellent teacher.”
Claire’s clear gaze rose to his, and if he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought he saw hurt behind her quickly masked expression. She might have everyone else easily fooled, but he wasn’t going to fall for her wily charms and her phony New York accent.
“How was Thomas when you stopped by the Cranes’?” Nicholas asked his assistant.
“He’s doing well. Just frustrated over the loss of work. Mrs. Crane sent her thanks for the supplies.”
“Do you think it was enough?”