Filed To Story: Alessia Mistaken as Mistress Book PDF Free
“I certainly do understand, darling,” Elizabeth said. “Having two babies of my own, I remember all too well. Don’t give it a second thought. We’ll do it again, and I’ll see you Thursday of next week.”
Relieved, Alessia gave her hand a grateful squeeze, gathered her crutches and hurried from the restaurant.
She studied the street, dimly lit by gas lamps, and took off at a fast clip. Nicholas came up beside her, and surprised her by merely escorting her until they came to his carriage.
Gruver promptly left the two other drivers he’d been playing cards with and hurried over.
“Mrs. Halliday’s in a bit of a rush,” Nicholas said.
“I’m sorry you have to come back for Mr. Halliday,” she apologized.
“No, you won’t,” Nicholas said to his driver, then turned to her. “It’s far too long a drive for him to return at this hour. I’ve said my good-nights to the Coughlins.”
He stowed her crutches and lifted her into the coach, then climbed in to sit across from her. Gruver placed the step inside. The carriage rocked as he climbed onto the driver’s seat, and in minutes they were well on their way.
“I’m sorry to spoil your evening,” she said.
He sighed and leaned wearily against the rich upholstery. “You haven’t spoiled my evening. I only went to please you, and to acquaint you with Edward’s wife.”
His low-spoken words took her by surprise. He’d raised the leather shade, and moonlight caressed his rigidly cut features as he studied the passing countryside.
Yes, he was as hard and unyielding as the steel from his mill. He was insufferably cautious and suspicious of her.
And he had every right to be.
She was deceiving him and his gracious mother. She was playing a game for her own gain, and he was her pawn as well as her opponent. The absurdity of her getting angry with him struck her with maddening clarity.
“Thank you, Nicholas,” she said softly, honestly. “I enjoyed the theater very much. And I’m ever so grateful to meet Elizabeth. I will enjoy knowing a woman my own age.”
His head turned, and she sensed his gaze in the semidarkness. He hadn’t bothered to light an interior lamp. After what seemed a lengthy time, he commented, “Stephen’s plays were better than that one, weren’t they?”
“You’ve seen Stephen’s plays?” she asked incredulously, having believed all along that he’d ignored his brother’s chosen profession.
“A couple of them.”
“Did he know?”
A sadness seemed to come over him and squeeze even more starch from his spine. He shook his head and turned to gaze out the window once again.
He had as many regrets as she. They were both playing a part. But Alessia admitted her role to herself. She knew her audience. Nicholas, on the other hand, worked hard at fooling himself. She remembered Milos’s words and knew how deeply Nicholas had loved his brother. Therefore she understood how deep his anguish went.
“I know you didn’t approve of Stephen’s choices,” she said softly. “But I also know you loved him very much.”
He turned toward her, and she could only see half his face in the darkness. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve seen your pain. And I need to remember that your mistrust and defensiveness comes from wanting to protect your family.”
He said nothing.
“No matter what went on between you and Stephen you meant well. You wanted the best for him.”
He seemed to consider those words. “Meaning well isn’t necessarily enough, though, is it?”
“Now you sound as though you may be blaming yourself for some of the problems.”
“Lady, you don’t know the first thing about me or my relationship with my brother.”
“I’m beginning to think I do.”
He turned away, and Alessia knew the conversation had ended. He never liked it when the tables were turned.
This was all going to end miserably unless she found some way for her time here to make a difference. Perhaps there was something she could do that would show Nicholas she was more than just a taker. She’d been given two hands-one to receive with and the other to give with. What could she possibly give the Hallidays that they didn’t already have?
The question gave her thought during the long night that followed.
Milos had been withdrawn for the past few days. Nicholas had known him enough years to know there was something sticking in his craw. He looked up from the stack of mail he’d been shuffling through and studied Milos at his desk across the room. With his usual precision, his assistant tallied a line of figures and rechecked each one.
“Is there a problem with the numbers?” Nicholas asked.
Milos shook his head.
“We met our production quota?”
“A few thousand pounds over actually.”
Nicholas tapped the desktop with the tip of his mother-of-pearl-handled letter opener. “You may as well say what’s on your mind, then.”
The man ran a hand through his sandy hair, leaned back in his chair with a creak of leather and springs and contemplated Nicholas. “All right. It’s Claire.”
Nicholas threw down the letter opener in disgust. “I knew it. What? What has the woman done now?”
Milos studied him over the top of his steepled fingers. “She’s done nothing that I know of, except marry your brother and then fall into some unfortunate circumstances. That’s why I don’t understand your attitude toward her or your suspicions of her.”
“What nonsense did she fill your head with?” Nicholas asked with a scowl.
“Did you have her background investigated?”
There was no reason for him to feel guilty about protecting his family’s interests. “Of course. I’d have been a fool not to.”
“And did your findings influence your feelings toward her in any way?”
“Of course. Her father was a factory worker in New York. He died when she was very young, and her mother took in alterations. The mother’s income was somewhat questionable, however.”
“And Claire?”
“Claire went to work in a clothing factory when she was thirteen, but she left that job to sew costumes for productions at the theater houses. She had intimate liaisons with at least three men before Stephen, all theater people.”
“Don’t you think Stephen was an adequate judge of character? Would he have married a woman who was only using him to get to his money? That is what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s what I’m thinking. What I’m having trouble seeing here is why you can’t see through her. She lived in a Slay Street tenement before she moved out on her own!”
Milos closed the ledger on the now-dry ink and stood. He stepped away from his desk and studied Nicholas. “I thought I knew you, but I don’t Where a person comes from does not make them a good person or a bad person.”
A crisp edge that Nicholas had seldom heard had crept into Milos’s voice. What in the world had Claire said or done to get Milos on her side? “Of course not, but it defines their character.”
“How so?
“She hasn’t contacted her mother one time since she’s been here. Now if she was a woman of high character, wouldn’t she see that her mother was taken care of? She left that city without a backward glance. And I’m not the mathematician you are, my friend, but even I can calculate that she was not married to my brother when William was conceived.”