Filed To Story: Alessia Mistaken as Mistress Book PDF Free
“His hair is getting as curly as yours.”
That soul-stirring voice sent a tremor through her body. Alessia spun on her heel and faced him.
The buckets dropped from her fingers with a clang.
Nicholas!
Her heart hammered, and her breath caught in her chest She tried to run past him, but he was too fast and too strong.
He halted her with a hand on her arm. “Alessia.”
Her gaze flew to his, but she couldn’t read his expression. She turned her face away in shame.
“Please, Alessia,” he said. Her name on his lips alarmed and thrilled her at the same time. His touch warmed her skin through her sleeve. She hadn’t wanted to face him once he knew the truth. She’d never planned on seeing his reaction to what she’d done. She was a coward.
“I don’t know how to say the things I need to say to you,” he said, his voice too gentle for someone who’d been betrayed.
She shook her head, swallowing fear and apprehension. “You hate me for lying to you. I don’t blame you.” She gathered her composure. “You don’t have to hold me. I won’t run.”
He released her arm.
“How did you find me?”
“The Pinkerton agent traced you here to Fort Wayne. I came as soon as I heard. And then I saw William this morning.”
She remained standing where he’d stopped her.
“Let’s sit,” he offered.
Hesitantly, she followed him into the other room. The offer to rest for a few minutes appealed, but she couldn’t afford the luxury. “I’m expected back at the laundry room.”
“No,” he said. “You’re not.”
She looked at him then, tried to read his purpose in his dark, dark eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I spoke with Mrs. Hargrove. I asked her to send you up here, and I told her you would no longer be in her employ.”
Panic stole over her entire being. She’d guarded her position so carefully. She’d never made a mistake to earn her a chance of losing this work. She’d put up with the woman’s tyrannical orders and worked endless arduous days. And now, in a matter of minutes, he’d lost it for her? “You what? You can’t do that! This is the only job that I can bring William to.”
“This is no life for William. This is no life for you.”
Tears blurred her vision. After her morning, this news was almost too much tribulation to bear. “But it’s our life, and you have no right to ruin it.”
“I have every right.”
He did. He had every right to do anything he could to make her life miserable. Listlessly, she sank to the edge of the bed, wondering where she could go from here. “Yes. You do,” she whispered, tired of being vulnerable.
“Lay him down and rest your back,” he said gently. He eased the sling from her shoulders and rested William on the coverlet. With long strong fingers he brushed William’s damp hair away from his temples. Seeing him touching her baby so tenderly did something painful to her heart. “He’s grown.”
Her gaze traveled from his capable hands to his shirt-sleeves, and up to his face. He studied her child with a softhearted expression. He truly cared for him.
A terrifying thought crept into her mind. “Why have you come?” she asked, surprised at her flat tone.
He looked up.
“I won’t let you take him from me.” Her voice sounded a little hysterical now. Sure she’d made mistakes and she’d grown discouraged, but she still had some fight left. “He’s not Stephen’s baby, you know that now.”
“Alessia, no.” He covered her hand with his. “No. I didn’t come to take William from you.”
She took even breaths and tried to calm herself. “Swear it.”
“I swear it. I thought you would want to know that Claire has been buried beside Stephen.”
Relief flooded her heart. “You found her body?”
He nodded. “The Pinkerton agent you hired found her. She had been identified as Alessia Thornton.”
That possibility had crossed her thoughts. Her father had been contacted. “So…”
“Your father buried her beside your mother.”
She nodded, blinking back tears. “He thought I was dead.”
Nicholas affirmed that with a nod.
“And now?”
“He allowed me to move her body.”
The words he didn’t say were as clear as the ones he did. “You wrote him?”
“I met him.”
She closed her eyes against the vision. He’d met Morris Thornton. And now he knew just how disposable she’d been to her own father. “I’m sure that was enlightening.”
“Yes. I saw something important while I was there.”
“What did you see?” she asked, afraid to hear the answer, but more afraid not to ask.
“I saw the man I was turning into.”
She opened her eyes and studied him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Your father. I’ve been just like him. I just pray it’s not too late to change.”
The comparison was ridiculous. “You’re nothing like my father. He’s mean and self-serving and bitter.”
“And I’m not?”
“No, you’re not.”
“All I cared about was Halliday Iron. It took over everything in my life until I had nothing and no one else.”
“You had a responsibility to your father. And to your mother. You took that seriously.”
“I took it seriously, all right. I took it so seriously, I couldn’t see past it to what my preoccupation was doing to Stephen. I wanted him to be just like me. I drove him away.”
Seeing the earnestness in his eyes, hearing his tone of voice, she recognized that they were discussing him-discussing his mistakes. Not once had he mentioned what she had done. No, he was not like her father.