Filed To Story: Alessia Mistaken as Mistress Book PDF Free
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about her. I’ve arranged for Mrs. Trent to watch her while we’re gone.”
“I wasn’t worried about her. I thought you might like to take her along for the outing.”
Her pale eyebrows drew together, and he regretted chasing the content expression from her face. “I’ll ask her,” she said.
Alessia watched him exit the room. Just yesterday, she’d tried to take Celia for a carriage ride, and the contrary woman had complained the entire time. Alessia hadn’t allowed her to take along her liquor, so she’d pouted and whined, and finally become belligerent, and Alessia had brought her home posthaste.
Her erratic behavior worried Alessia.
Nicholas’s concern touched her deeply, however, and added to the burden of guilt she carried daily. Each day she learned a little more about him-just enough to raise him in her esteem and lower her opinion of herself even further. What tonight and tomorrow held, she could only imagine.
Alessia had helped Celia dress, making sure her shoes matched, and that she didn’t carry a flask on her person. She’d spent hours coaching her on appropriate behavior for her first appearance at the Halliday’s dinner table, and prayed things went smoothly. Nicholas and Leda were waiting for them in the dining room.
“You didn’t bring William?” Leda asked.
“No, he was napping soundly, and I didn’t want to disturb him.” Actually she had wanted to avoid any extra complications.
“Good evening, Celia,” Nicholas greeted the woman, obviously remembering the title she preferred.
“Evenin'” Celia replied, seating herself beside Alessia.
“I understand you’re quite handy with a needle and thread,” Leda said, breaking the ice.
“I’ve done a bit of sewing in my time,” Celia agreed.
“And you’ve taught Claire the skills,” Leda said. “That’s lovely.”
Celia reached for her wineglass. Alessia and Nicholas exchanged a look as she took a swallow. “Actually, Claire always wanted to do something else,” Celia replied.
“Did you see a lot of the plays Claire sewed for?” Nicholas asked.
“Some.”
Tension knotted Alessia’s shoulders. What on earth would they converse about that wouldn’t be a dangerous topic? She recalled all those newspapers Celia went through, and racked her brain for a newsworthy item.
Finally thinking of something she’d overheard Monty Gallamore and Nicholas discussing, she brought up the amendment currently going through the senate and-with surprising intelligence-Celia bantered it back and forth with Nicholas until the dessert was served.
She and Leda shared a smile, and Mrs. Pratt poured coffee.
“We’re attending a picnic tomorrow,” Alessia said, broaching the new topic gently. “Nicholas told me he’d like you to join us.”
Celia polished off another glass of wine, and declined the coffee. “I’d rather stay here.”
“It would be a good chance for you to get some air,” Alessia coaxed. “Enjoy the weather.”
“You know how I get along with air,” she replied.
The matter was settled. Alessia glanced at Nicholas. “Just so you know you’re welcome,” he said.
Celia appeared embarrassed by his words. “I’m not good around people. Trust me. You wouldn’t want me there.”
“We’ll leave that up to you,” he replied. “Excuse me, ladies.”
“Do you have any opinions on bustles?” Leda asked.
Celia cocked an eyebrow at her.
“I’ve been trying to decide on a dress for an upcoming event, and I can’t make up my mind about the bustle. Maybe you’d look at the pattern for me.”
“Sure,” Celia said with a shrug.
Leave it to Leda to try to make her feel more welcome, and not to hold any bad feelings about what had happened that first day. Alessia accompanied them to Leda’s chamber, and later took Celia to her room.
“You’d think I was really somebody the way that woman treats me,” she said, letting Alessia help her from her dress.
“She’s quite a woman,” Alessia agreed. “She’s worked hard in her life, too, and she doesn’t consider herself above others.”
“Her sons, too, huh?” she asked.
Her sons? Yes, Stephen had been much like Leda. But Nicholas? He treated his employees well, and that spoke volumes for him, but he hadn’t thought Claire was good enough for Stephen. She couldn’t tell Celia that, though.
“Her sons, too,” she agreed.
“Could you find me a drink?” Celia asked.
“Don’t you think you had enough at dinner?”
“I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough.”
Alessia brought her a bottle and left her alone.
Saturday couldn’t have been a nicer day for the outdoor festivity. The sun shone bright and warm, but not hot enough to spoil the outing. The number of makeshift tables spread with cloths and laden with baskets and crates amazed her. She’d never attended anything as informal, as all of her father’s business acquaintances were stuffy old bankers and investors. Even her own school activities had been formal affairs, and a ride through the Boston Common the closest she’d been to nature.
“Come see the trophy we made for this year’s competition!” Several men, all talking at once, gathered around Nicholas.
“Don’t worry, we didn’t do it on company time,” someone else laughed.
“Claire?” he said over his shoulder as they ushered him off.
She smiled and waved. “Don’t worry about me.”
Leda had found a spot in the shade to visit with a group of chattering women working on quilting squares, and Alessia wandered about the area on her own.
Children ran and played, laughter ringing across the lush green countryside. Booths had been constructed with carnival-like games, and she watched in fascination as children of all ages tried their skill at tossing rings over bottles and throwing balls at stacked cartons.
“Mrs. Halliday! Claire!” Alessia glanced around.
Mary Crane, with a rosy-cheeked David on her hip and Elissa clinging to her purple and blue taffeta skirts, hurried toward her. Alessia admired the dress Mary had cleverly designed from two of Claire’s dresses, using both to come up with enough material to make the garment modest and lovely.
“Hello,” Alessia said, greeting the three of them.
“Have you had something to drink yet?” Mary asked. “You must be thirsty after your long ride.”
“I’d love something cool,” Alessia replied.
“Follow me.” Mary led her to a spot beneath a towering oak where two barrels sat stacked on top of others so that the spigots were accessible. “That one’s lemonade, and this one’s tea. Or if you’re inclined the men have brew over yonder.”