Filed To Story: Alessia Mistaken as Mistress Book PDF Free
He finished his wine, savoring the last sip with a look of self-satisfaction.
Milos, too, seemed to be waiting expectantly for Nicholas to reveal more, and, bolder than Alessia, he asked, “Well, who is this mystery woman who is coming?”
Nicholas held Alessia’s gaze and replied to Milos’s question. “Claire’s mother.”
Claire’s mother.
Alessia’s heart tripped an alarmed cadence. Nicholas had questioned her speaking of her mother as though she were dead, and belatedly she recognized another calamitous blunder. Stark terror fogged her brain.
Leda smiled expectantly. “Selfish me,” she said, her words somehow sinking into Alessia’s benumbed consciousness. “All I’ve been able to think about is that I’ll have to share William.”
Claire’s mother was alive, and both Nicholas and Leda knew it. Alessia’d been so distracted recently, she’d delayed returning Stephen’s letters to Nicholas’s desk and securing more. The additional information she could have learned might have helped her in this-another disastrous situation. She berated herself for becoming caught up in helping the Cranes and proving her worth, and thereby delaying finding valuable information that would have helped her-
Wait! Who was this deceptive person she had become?
“Nicholas sent her funds and invited her to visit for as long as she cares to,” Leda explained. “I know how much her presence will mean to you.”
Nicholas studied Alessia with a steady assessing gaze she could easily learn to hate. Her head and tongue thick with alarm, she managed to push some words past her lips. “I-I didn’t know you were even thinking about this.”
Claire had a mother. Claire had a mother. A mother who thought her daughter was still alive.
Alessia’s lies had multiplied until they’d trapped her. Tripped her. Suffocated her.
Oh, Lord…
“I mentioned it to Nicholas right off,” Leda explained. “A girl should have her mother to help her through difficult times. We didn’t say anything to you, because we didn’t want to get your hopes up if her visit didn’t work out.”
“Well, I-you’re so-thoughtful.” No other words came to her. At least nothing she could say aloud.
“Dinner was excellent, Claire.” Milos pushed his chair back. Nicholas had done the same.
“Join us for a glass of sherry, ladies?”
“I’d be glad to take William up so you can stay,” Leda offered, “but I know you’re tired.”
“Thank you,” Alessia said with a nod to Nicholas, “but I’d like to go to my rooms.”
“I’ll beg off, too, darling. You two talk about whatever gentlemen discuss in private.” Leda leaned into her son’s kiss, and accepted a peck from Milos as well. “Good night, dears.”
“Good night, Mother.”
Her mind awhirl with fatalistic thoughts, Alessia followed Leda.
“Why haven’t you mentioned your trips to the Cranes to him?” Leda asked as they climbed the marble stairs. She carried William so Alessia could use one crutch and the banister for support.
What was she going to do? The panicked thought of packing her few belongings and rushing out into the night came as her immediate reaction. But then she looked over at her helpless son, and knew there had to be a plan with more sense.
“I just didn’t want Nicholas to think I’d done it to earn his favor,” she said lamely, trying to behave normally. “Pride, I guess.” Because she had been trying to win his favor. And she was afraid she never could.
“He hasn’t been very accepting of you, has he?” Leda asked.
Oh, Lord, the woman hadn’t seen anything yet! Alessia gripped the oak banister in a white-fisted lock to keep from tumbling to the tile floor at the bottom of the stairs in a pile of quivering panic. “I understand his concern.”
“It’s the only way he knows,” Leda said, as if in defense of her son. “He’s been responsible for the foundry, for Stephen and me, since a very young age. He took that responsibility seriously.”
Alessia forced herself to concentrate on what Leda was saying. These were things she should know. “How could they have been so different, your sons?”
“Stephen was much younger than Nicholas when my Templeton passed on. Nicholas’d had a year of college, but Stephen was just twelve. I’d had a baby girl in between the two, but she only lived a few weeks.”
Alessia thought of those first terrifying minutes in the hospital when she’d awakened not knowing what had happened to her baby. She thought, too, of how much she loved William, and how that love grew with each hour and day and week. Her heart went out to Leda.
They reached the upstairs hall and walked slowly. Alessia’s knees now trembled.
“Nicholas came right home and took over everything. I never had a day’s worry over the legalities and such. He turned into a man the day his father died. He saw that Stephen finished college, though it was a constant source of friction.”
Leda walked Alessia into her room and placed William on the downy emerald counterpane that draped her bed.
“He gave up so much, my Nicholas, even though he never said a word. To this day he would deny he’d sacrificed anything. Such pride.” She shook her head. “His own schooling, his own ambitions. And though he claimed he and the girl were merely friends, I believe he might have married the young woman he’d met at school.”
Alessia listened with surprise and new interest.
“He claimed there was no time to nurture a relationship with the girl being in Boston and him here, and I suppose he was right. By the time he had the foundry’s affairs in order and had the business once again on its feet, she’d found someone else.
“All Stephen wanted to do was attend the theater, write his scripts and travel. I know Nicholas hoped that Stephen would finish his studies and return to share the load. Nicholas works as hard as his father did, bless his soul. He takes the world just as seriously. I know we wouldn’t have all we do if they hadn’t been so diligent, but sometimes I wonder…perhaps my husband would still be alive if he’d been a bit more…”
She paused. “I was going to say a bit more like Stephen, but he’s not alive any longer either.”
Tears filled her gray eyes. Alessia leaned her crutches against the armoire and enfolded her in a hug, understanding how Leda had wanted only the best for both her sons.
“Oh, Claire. You’re such a blessing.” Her voice was muffled against Alessia’s shoulder. “I don’t know how I would have survived these past weeks without you. Just knowing you’re here in the house helps me sleep at night.”
Guilt layered over guilt until Alessia wondered how she could live with its oppressive weight building inside her.
Leda pulled away, dabbing at her eyes with one of her ever-present lace hankies, and stepped to the bed. “And having William is just the crowning touch. The two of you are so dear to me.” She sat and placed her finger in William’s fist. Her inability to keep from touching him spoke to Alessia’s heart as strongly as her direct words.
Her watery gaze lifted to Alessia. “Sometimes I feel so selfish. I know your mother must need you, too. But you’d been prepared to leave her, hadn’t you? The two of you must have been very close. I can’t see how she could bear to part with you for even a day.”
Claire’s mother would have to learn that her daughter had died.
It wasn’t only Leda and Nicholas and Milos who would be hurt by this horrible mix-up she’d perpetuated. Now there was Claire’s poor mother. How many more people would be affected before she had the courage to end it?
Alessia sank to the edge of the bed, reproach squeezing the life’s blood from her heart. The woman was probably wondering why her daughter hadn’t contacted her. How many more relatives did Claire have that Alessia didn’t know about?
What was she going to do? She couldn’t just sit here and pretend to be Claire when the woman walked in. Maybe she should leave tonight.
“When will she arrive?” she asked in dread.
“Tuesday, I believe.”
“Oh, dear, that’s the night Nicholas’s guests will be here, and I’ve made so many plans.”
“We will just include her, dear. It will be no problem.”
No problem? The woman had no idea of her predicament or its looming consequences! A piercing ache pulsed in Alessia’s temple. She raised her fingertips to massage it. What now? What now?
What now?
Perhaps she could meet her at the train. That was it! And then what? Just tell her that her daughter was dead and expect her to get back in the passenger car and head for home?