Filed To Story: Alessia Mistaken as Mistress Book PDF Free
Alessia didn’t even know the woman’s name. She wouldn’t recognize her if she danced on her traveling case and sang “Camptown Races” at the top of her lungs.
Alessia wrung her hands and racked her brain for a solution.
“Claire, you’re positively white! Let me fetch Mrs. Trent to see to William, and I’ll help you with your clothing. You’ve overtaxed yourself with this benevolent business. Your health is important to your son’s welfare, and don’t you forget that.”
“Of course not.” She allowed Leda to scold and fuss and summon servants, all the while reeling under the guilt of the woman’s concern. Leda loved her and William so desperately. She wanted Alessia’s happiness while she feared losing some of her love and attention to this woman now coming. Was that what the selfless love of a parent felt like?
By the time the last servant left and William was full and asleep in his iron crib, her mind still reeled.
She lay staring into the dark, her eyes burning, her stomach a knot of apprehension. Regret and trepidation ate at her soul. She’d been acutely aware of her eventual fate for weeks. She’d known this charade would end and she’d have to blindly make her way into the rest of her life. But she wasn’t ready yet.
She still couldn’t walk without a crutch. She couldn’t even carry William and her bags and manage the crutch all at once, and certainly never long enough to make it to the train station.
Sleep eluded her through the night. Though exhausted, she welcomed William’s predawn feeding because it gave her someone to talk to and soothed her chaotic thoughts. Her choices were limited.
She could leave right now. But what kind of life would William have if she ran off without a cent or a means to provide for him?
She could wait and let Claire’s mother see her and have her whole masquerade revealed. That scenario didn’t appeal either.
Or she could meet her at the station and speak with her ahead of time. Maybe if she told her the truth and explained the situation, the woman would take pity on her.
By morning she’d settled on the least horrible of choices. She would take her chances with Claire’s mother. But how would she learn her name? Had she ever heard Claire’s last name? Surely she would have remembered. She would meet her at the station, but she’d have to know her name by then.
It was Sunday. Two days to learn it. And the only way she could think of was to go through the rest of Stephen’s letters. Nicholas and Leda had said he’d written home about Claire, so her name would be mentioned. It was the best idea she could come up with.
On Monday morning, Alessia left William napping and made her way to Nicholas’s suite. Stealthily, she replaced the letters she’d read and took the rest of the stack, making it back to her room undetected. It frightened her to realize how good she was getting at this treachery! Her need to cover her past sins had overcome her morals. Had it caused her to multiply her transgressions? How low would she sink before this was over?
That afternoon, while the baby slept again, she asked Mrs. Trent to check on the Cranes for her and used the time to read through the stack of letters.
Stephen’s tone always came through lighthearted and carefree. Occasionally he mentioned something going on at home or expressed his affection for his mother, but most of his narrative detailed his current projects and friends and the places he’d visited.
After hearing Leda tell about Nicholas’s hopes that his brother would come home and help, she had a bit more understanding of how Nicholas must have felt. He’d forgone his own education and desires to take over the foundry.
What all had he given up? As gruff and businesslike as he seemed, it was hard to imagine him with hopes and dreams. And doubly hard to imagine him as an enamored young man. Had he given up someone he’d truly loved?
He’d seen to Stephen’s education and well-being, all the while wanting the best for him, yet wishing he’d share the workload. Stephen’s gay tales and unfettered life-style must have been acute reminders of Nicholas’s own burdensome responsibilities.
The dates on the letters were months and months apart, as though Stephen wrote only when he could spare the time from his whirlwind social life. The last year or so he’d written five times, the next to the last one describing-Claire
Patrick.
Alessia zeroed in on the name she’d sought
Stephen had called her witty and charming, full of vivacious energy and the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. Alessia groaned inwardly. No wonder Nicholas hadn’t thought she matched the description of Claire.
The last letter announced their plans to marry. Folded into it were three telegrams, one telling of their marriage and planned trip to Europe and another announcing their arrival home.
For long minutes Alessia sat with that telegram in her hand. This was the last time Nicholas had heard from his brother. The brother he had loved and provided for. The brother he had wanted to see happy, yet had yearned to have share his burden.
Undoubtedly the fact that Stephen had married and was on his way to Mahoning Valley had raised Nicholas’s hopes that he’d be staying.
The last telegram sent a chill up her spine.
We regret to inform you that there has been a train accident in New York State. Stop. Please come identify the body of your brother at the earliest possible time. Stop. Mrs. Halliday has been taken to the hospital in Newburgh. Stop. She is responding well to treatment and the baby is in excellent health. Stop.
Alessia visualized Nicholas holding this slip of paper, imagined the shock and the horror he must have experienced. She could almost feel what he felt, taste the grief and the anger. And his first thoughts would have included his mother. How would he tell her? How could she bear to lose her beloved Stephen?
With a heavy heart, she refolded the letters.
“A mother should never have to lose her child. Never,” Leda had said fiercely. At no time had Alessia understood those words as clearly as she did at that moment. Leda had lost a daughter as an infant, and then a son in the prime of his life.
She stepped to the crib, straightened William’s blanket, caressed his downy soft hair and assured herself that her son was well and secure as she’d planned. No matter what else, she’d seen to his well-being.
He was still all that mattered. If not for him she would tell Nicholas and Leda the truth that very day. Neither of them deserved the betrayal she’d delivered into their home. She loved them too much for that.
But even though she was much improved, she was still unable to care for him alone-
Love them? Was that what she’d thought?
Love them?
Who couldn’t feel a deep affection for Leda? The devoted motherly woman held a place in the heart of all who knew her. Alessia barely remembered her own mother, and she’d come to respect the woman’s sweet-voiced suggestions and to depend on her encouraging presence.
As the two women shared tea that afternoon, Alessia tried her best to assure Leda of her affection. Whatever happened, she would regret bringing another loss to the woman.
“Leda?” she said softly.
“Yes, dear.”
“I want you to know that sharing William with you has been a blessing. You’ve made this difficult time not only bearable, but enjoyable.”
Leda smiled in shy surprise.
“You’ve told me many times how much we mean to you. I want you to know how much you mean to William and me, too. You’ve been here for me when I needed a friend.”
“It’s been my pleasure.”
“So you’ve often told me. That’s why I wanted to tell you. And to tell you that I love you. Whatever happens in the days and weeks to come, remember above all that I do sincerely care for you and appreciate all you’ve done for me.”
Leda took her hand. “I know that, dear.”
Yes, she loved her.
But Nicholas? He’d barely said half a dozen civil words to her in the time she’d been there. He was mistrusting and hard-headed, unapproachable and narrow-minded, uncommunicative- She caught herself. If he was all those things, why had she just been empathizing with his grief and his feelings of love and frustration for his brother?
Because he was all those things…and he was more. So much more. She’d thought him remote and supercilious, but she’d seen his interaction with the servants. Her father would have fired Gruver on the spot for his foolish antics and replaced him with someone he could pay less wages to.
She’d seen Nicholas’s puzzlement over his servants’ play and his sad remembrance that his brother had once had fun like that. If Nicholas never had the opportunity to have fun, or had forgotten how, was he to blame?
And Nicholas had his reasons for being hard-headed and narrow-minded and mistrusting. After all, she was deceiving him. He was absolutely right about her-well, not that she’d married his brother to get to his money, but that she’d come here to take advantage of their ability to provide a home and food.
He treated his mother with tender affection and respect, it was true. He held his employees’ safety in high regard. That side of him had been revealed, and it was commendable.
But love? But of course it must be the same familial fondness she felt for Leda. Devotion as toward a brother. She was playing the sister-in-law, after all.
Leda finished her tea and left, and Alessia’s thoughts continued to whir. Her mind raced to that kiss they’d shared, and the feelings it had aroused in her. That was not the kiss of a brother-in-law.
If she closed her eyes now she could see his, dark and full of fire and caution. She could see his hands, steady and strong. On any other man, mundane tasks like opening a wine bottle or stoking a fire were colorless tasks, but when Nicholas’s hands performed those tasks, the sight gave her an odd little stirring in her middle. Sometimes at night she dreamed of his hands, of his sensuous voice, a sound that sent a shiver across her flesh with its low, soul-piercing resonance.