Page 17 of An Honorable Deception
The shiver lit new pain.
Zelda patted her hand. “Perhaps you will tell me about it, yes? During your stay.”
She smiled through the ache. “I would love that.”
“Good. Now ... you need more medicine?”
“No!” The exclamation earned her a lifted-brow question, but Alethia only shook her head—carefully—for emphasis. “I would like to have my wits about me. The pain is better today. In fact...” Did she dare to even ask this? Was it too soon, a foolish thought? She hazarded it anyway. “Do you think you could help me dress? I would love nothing more than to get out of this bed, even if only for a few hours.”
The purse of Zelda’s lips made it none too clear whether she would agree or not. But at length, she gave a nod. “Slow and careful, though. And only to the sitting room next door. I know Lady Lavinia means to visit you momentarily, and Lord Fairfax.”
She told herself it was the effort of pushing herself moreupright that made her cheeks flush—exertion, not the thought of finally getting a proper introduction to the most elusive bachelor in Lords.
Minutes later, she nearly regretted her request but wouldn’t let herself declare defeat, despite the agony feasting on her. It wasn’t Zelda’s fault. The woman was gentle and capable, as if she’d assisted with costume changes thousands of times despitenotbeing a lady’s maid. But then, she chattered on about the circus costumes she’d created over the years—clearly trying to distract Alethia from the pain—so no doubt shehadassisted with such changes.
At last, Alethia sat on the side of the bed, a loose day dress in place—though no corset underneath it, given the circumstances—catching her breath and waiting for the blood to stop pounding so ferociously in her head.
Zelda pulled one of Alethia’s pashmina shawls from a drawer, tracing a finger over the design and smiling with clear appreciation. “Beautiful.”
“Thank you. It belonged to my ayah, once.”
Zelda’s eyes studied the fabric a moment more, then moved slowly to Alethia’s face. “Your ayah, you say? A piece as fine as this?”
Alethia’s fingers curled into her palm. “All the other pieces from India too.”
The woman’s gaze darted back to the chest of drawers. Had she been the one to unpack her things? If so, she’d seen the beaded shoes, the bangles, the hammered gold jewelry.
She must have done. Because the gaze she turned her way again said she saw more than the obvious. “Fine things. She left them with you?”
Her fingernails dug into her palms. “A parting gift. She said she didn’t want them, but shedidwant me to remember her.”
As if she could ever forget. And as if she didn’t know exactly why Samira had left every single luxurious fabric, every pretty bead, every gleaming piece of jewelry behind her.
Zelda opened the shawl with a flourish and settled it over Alethia’s shoulders. It wasn’t so cold that a shawl was needed—it was August and had been the hottest week of the year in London. But the air here, coming in through the open window, was a good deal cooler. And Alethia still longed for climes a good deal warmer. She welcomed the familiar embrace of the fabric. “Thank you.”
After giving her a moment to rest, Zelda helped her to her feet and slid an arm around her. Alethia, at first, doubted whether the older woman could really be enough help, but within a few steps, she found her concerns ungrounded. The woman may be small, but she seemed to be made of pure muscle, and all but carried her out of her bedroom and into the one directly across the corridor, which proved to be a sitting room. Soon, and with surprisingly little discomfort, Alethia was settled on the sofa.
“I shall fetch your breakfast. Or would you prefer porridge? And tea?”
Shemustbe hungry, despite not feeling it yet. “Tea and the plate from my room will be perfect. Thank you so much, Zelda.”
Zelda’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “It is my pleasure to help you, sweet one.” She moved back into the hallway and must have been saying something to herself, but the words were in a language Alethia had never heard. Romani, perhaps? It had similarities to those she’d heard in India—the rhythms were the same, and perhaps even a few words that sounded like cognates. Alethia would have leaned forward had she dared, to better listen to it.
Perhaps Zelda would teach her some of it while she was here. Surely her fluency in Bengali could help her pick it up.
Or maybe the Romaniwasn’ttalking to herself—a different voice answered, deep and vaguely familiar, and then a third, lyrically female. The Fairfax siblings. Her ears told her the truth even before her eyes verified it a moment later when they came through the door, all smiles and welcome.
Her throat went so tight as she looked at them that she found herself grateful to have the excuse of her injuries to account for what was no doubt a strained expression on her face. And with a bit of luck, they’d blame the flush in her cheeks on the exertion.
“Good morning, my lady.” Lady Marigold came straight for her, hand extended, and clasped Alethia’s fingers in her own as she sat beside her. “How good it is to see you up and about. Are you in a great deal of pain?”
Alethia made herself focus on the lady instead of her hulking brother. She offered a small smile. “Some. Not as bad as I feared. Thank you again for your generosity and hospitality.”
“Our pleasure, I assure you. Now, allow me to make official introductions.” The lady nodded toward her brother. “You have met him before, given that he carried you into our house, but we’re glad you’re now awake to remember. This is my brother, Lord Yates Fairfax. Yates, allow me to present Lady Alethia Barremore.”
His lips twitched, no doubt at the formality of the introduction given his previous carrying—multiple carryings?—of her unconscious form. But he inclined his head with as much decorum as if he sat across from her at a tea. “How do you do, my lady?”
The ridiculousness of the English gentry’s preferred greeting, given the situation, made her own lips twitch. “I’ve beenbetter, to be frank. But I would most certainly be worse without your intervention, so I am grateful. And you?”
