Alice, The Player (Serenity House Book 3) Read online

  His eyes widened as he leaned back. "Blimey."

  Then he reached for me and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me hard, solely to quieten me, but I didn't care. When Frank held me tight and his lips touched mine, nothing else mattered. His tongue danced with mine and I let him sweep away all my troubled thoughts. One hand stroked up my side to cup my breast through my clothing, and I moaned into his mouth. His thumb worked circles over fabric that drove me wild as I leaned into him.

  At length he pulled back, his hand stilled on my body, and allowed me to catch my breath. My heart hammered in my chest and my skin was as flushed as though I stood in front of the coal range.

  "What do you say to that, then?" he murmured, a smirk on his lips.

  "Oh, Frank. I love you." What else could I do but offer up my heart?

  His eyes widened and he increased the distance between us.

  Would he say it back to me now? This was the part where he admitted how much he loved me, and we would finally express that love in the full physical way in a beautiful autumn meadow.

  Except he didn't say it. He shook his head and then he laughed. A loud, booming laugh, as though I had told him a most excellent joke.

  In that instance, I learned a heart could break. Like a plate dropped on the hard floor, pieces shattered and shredded my body. A sob welled up in my chest and tears blinded my eyes. I struggled to my feet, his laughter ringing in my ears. My mind screamed in agony and my body did the only thing it could. It took flight.

  8

  Ella and a friend in need.

  I trotted down the drive and headed the mare for home. Dusk would fall soon, and I wanted to be home before the light faded. The surrounding embrace of the trees cut the light back further, and soon I rode through a shadowland, lit only by the occasional brave shaft of receding light that breached the foliage.

  The weight of the sword at my back lent me comfort, even though we seemed to have greatly reduced our vermin numbers. It still only took one vermin and one scratch to end one's breathing days.

  Up ahead a figure stumbled along the road. Shoulders hunched over, head bowed, and the odd shudder worked through her body. Who would be out on their own with the approach of dusk and with no obvious means of protection? As I rode closer, the shape became one I well recognised.

  Alice.

  I searched my mind, trying to recollect her plans for the day. She and Frank had planned an outing in the motorcar and she had packed a picnic. Had the motorcar broken down? I put my leg to Molly so she trotted on until we pulled up next to my friend. That was when I heard the deep gulps and whimpers as she cried.

  I jumped down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Alice? Whatever are you doing out on your own at this hour? It will be dark soon."

  Her sobs were terrible to hear, and those amber eyes when she raised them to me were full of tears and betrayal. My heart plummeted straight to my boots—what had happened?

  "I have been a fool," was all she managed before the tears overwhelmed her and she threw herself at me. I hugged her close and patted her back.

  Last I saw of her before I left, she buzzed with excitement as she carefully selected what would go in the big wicker basket. I held her at arms’ length and tried to meet her gaze. "Whatever happened? Did Frank hurt you?"

  If he had harmed so much as a hair on her head I would make him wish he were a vermin. In fact, maybe I would infect him, so I could hack off his limbs without him dying.

  Chocolate curls bobbed as she shook her head. She had also lost her hat. "No, not physically. But I told him that I loved him and he—he—"

  "What?" The suspense set my nerves on edge. Yes, my friend was distraught, but I needed information so I could fix the situation.

  She swallowed a sob before blurting out her next words, "He laughed at me."

  Alice buried her face in my jacket and her shoulders shook as she cried. In my mind I planned the many different ways I would hurt the man who’d ripped my friend's heart in two.

  Her voice was muffled as she spoke against the wool pressed to her face. "I am such an idiot. I should have listened to the other girls. They all said he had a reputation in London for leading girls on. They said he was a player, not a stayer."

  A player, not a stayer. "Oh, Alice. If I have anything to do with it, your heart will be the last he ever breaks." My indignation on behalf of my friend was tempered by a whisper of self-doubt. Was Seth cut from the same cloth? Would the duke take up a playboy lifestyle after the war and enjoy all the privileges his position afforded? No one would settle for a former scullery maid when the most eligible women of Europe were his for the picking.

  One crisis at a time, Ella. Before I watched my relationship crash into the ground like an airship on fire, I first needed to take care of my friend. "Come on, let's get you home. You can ride behind me."

  She pushed me away and wiped her face with both hands. "God, no. I can't face anyone else. I need to walk."

  "I'm not leaving you alone when you're this upset, unarmed, with dark not far away." She really had lost her mind. I may as well stake her out in front of a hive with a sign saying new recruit.

  "Please, Ella. I need time to myself. By the time I reach the farm I should have cried myself out. I'm surprised I haven't turned the road into a river already." She tried to smile and failed miserably. Tears still leaked from her puffy, red eyes even as she held back the desperate sobs. The effort had now given her hiccups.

  What sort of horrid friend would I be to leave her in such a state? "We're friends. Frank just broke your heart. I'll walk with you."

  She pushed me toward the horse. "Go. It's not much farther along the road. I will certainly be home before the sun disappears. You could start a bath for me? I'd really appreciate that."

  I stared at her while I waged an internal battle. We weren't far from home. The walk was less than half an hour from there, and she would make it before dark. If she wanted a bath, Alice would have a bath, and riding back would give me time to start heating the water. Bother. It seemed her hypnotising amber gaze worked even through lids red and swollen from crying.

  "Only if you take my sword for protection." I was mad to even contemplate giving in to her. Every hair on my head stood up and protested at the idea of leaving her alone.

  A smile tried to grace her lips, but the heartache was too raw. Her chest heaved with another bout of hiccups. "You know I can't use the blasted thing."

  Alice had been known to cut her fingers chopping vegetables; she might lose a limb to the katana. "The rifle, then; otherwise I will stay by your side for every step home."

  "Very well." She drew another sob.

  I unbuckled the rifle from the saddle and slung it over Alice's head and shoulders. She wasn't a bad shot and had greatly improved thanks to the ceramic cat targets. The rifle would buy her time if needed, and we were close enough to home, I should hear a shot. I prayed we had cleared out this area, as I hadn't seen any this close to our farm for weeks. Apart from the one that had walked out the front door.

  She took my hands but the tears still rolled down her cheeks. "Count the minutes, I will be there in under thirty. Ask Henry to draw Frank's portrait and we will throw darts at it out in the barn."

  I liked that idea. I liked the idea of throwing darts at the actual Frank, instead of a picture, even more. "Very well then. A bath, a portrait, and then we shall plot our revenge."

  Worry still ate at me as I hugged her and kissed her cheek. "Please be careful. I shall fret until you are home."

  As I rode home, the sobs started up behind me and squeezed my heart. Poor thing. I hoped she would howl out the worst of the pain as she walked, because I didn't know how to heal her wound. But if time alone would help, then I would let her have it.

  At home, Henry raised an eyebrow at my request for a drawing, then shrugged and headed off to grab paper and his pencils. That was part one of our plan put in action. Next, Magda and I dragged out the tin bath and placed it in fron
t of the range. We fetched the large pots, filled them with water from the pump in the yard, and then set them to boil.

  Magda also concocted what she called her broken heart remedy in a smaller pot. From what I saw, it involved an awful lot of whisky and a tiny bit of honey. I doubted it would heal Alice's fractured heart, but it would probably help her forget it for a while.

  We filled the bath and the clock kept ticking. The steam dissipated, and by the time it cooled, an hour had passed since I met Alice on the road. I took to pacing back and forth.

  "Less than thirty minutes, she said. She should have been home ages ago. I'll take the motorbike and go look for her." I know she wanted time and privacy to cry herself out, but she could do that in the bath while drinking Magda's cure. I needed my friend home and safe while night claimed the countryside.

  I expected to see Alice coming up the drive, picked out in stark relief by the Triumph's headlight. But she wasn't there. Nor was she on the road. I drove back and forth, thinking I might have passed her in the growing dark. With each minute, dread grew in my gut.

  Alice was gone.

  Magda and Henry had to practically tie me to a chair and to make me wait until morning. She was my friend and she was out there alone. I wanted to scour the countryside for her, by candlelight if necessary. However, a corner of my mind pointed out I could walk right past her. I would wait until daylight, but rage consumed me until the very sky was painted red. Or was I seeing blood splatter over the walls and imagining I was the artist and Frank my palette?

  "She's probably gone home with one of the other girls, rather than face us," Magda said.

  Why wouldn't she come home to us? Because we knew her too well. It kind of made sense—Alice said she couldn't face us, but it hurt that she didn't seek comfort with her best friend. Perhaps one of the women from the village or Serenity House passed Alice and offered her a ride and a shoulder to cry on.

  Be back in morning, Henry wrote on his notepad. What few words he had, he saved for Hazel.

  I prayed he was right. I counted every second the clock ticked as I waited all through the night. Lying awake in my bedroom, my ears strained for any sound of Alice creeping up to her bedroom.

  I heard none.

  The next morning, I would have been out before the rooster had crowed, but Magda pointed out it would take some time for Alice to make her way home.

  "Wherever she has holed up, I bet they would make sure she had breakfast before seeing her off. It's what we would do," Magda said as she poured tea into my mug.

  Dratted woman needed to stop being so practical. She was throwing cold water on my burning need to find my friend. Perhaps Magda was right and Alice partook of a leisurely breakfast in the village. But still, she hadn't spared us a thought at all, stewing over whether she was all right or not. She could have telephoned, although admittedly not many houses had a telephone yet.

  I took father his breakfast and he listened while I vented my worry about Alice. He patted my hand. "Home soon," he slurred.

  So everyone kept saying, but where was she? I couldn't leave for work at Serenity House until she was safely back with us. By ten o'clock I could take it no longer, plus I was wearing a track in the parlour carpet. If Alice had found a bed for the night with a working family, they would have been up and gone hours ago. The weight in my stomach grew heavier. It was time for action. And I would start by confronting the cad who caused this situation.

  The player, not a stayer.

  I leaned over the handlebars of the bike and pushed the throttle until it felt like old Trusty would shake apart on the gravel roads. The noise drowned out my worries for the few miles it took to reach the big house.

  I spun gravel as I hit the brakes at Serenity House. Where would I find the scoundrel who broke my friend's heart? I drew my sword and held it in two hands as I walked around the house, ready and anticipating trouble. As though I expected a horde of vermin to lunge around the corner. I found Seth and Frank in the courtyard. The Rolls Royce had the hood up and the motor exposed as they leaned in, discussing something.

  "You!" I yelled, as I advanced on him. I don't know if I could actually stab him, but I intended to find out. My mind screamed for revenge for my friend, wherever she had gone to hide.

  Both men turned, their expressions turning from surprised to slightly worried and then incredulous. Seth stepped forward and raised his hands. "Ella, put the sword away."

  I held it in one hand over my head and stabbed the air with a finger instead; I didn't want to accidentally slice bits off my boyfriend that I might want later on. "I'm going to carve out his stone-cold heart and then feed it to him."

  Seth frowned, glanced at his half-brother and then back to me. "What has Frank done now?"

  Seth blocked my target and I had to peer around his shoulders. "Ask him. Alice poured her heart out to him and the rake laughed at her. Laughed!"

  Frank held up his hands and a nervous smile pulled his lips wide. "Steady on, Ella. It was just a misunderstanding and she ran off before I could explain."

  "Misunderstanding? You utter bastard," I roared at him, and tried to lunge past Seth.

  The duke caught me around the middle and swept me off my feet. I certainly didn't want to hurt him, but if he didn't let me go, he was going to get just a little bit cut up. Collateral damage was the military phrase for it. It meant getting between a woman and the fellow she meant to shred.

  "Put me down so I can make him eat his words." I kicked out with my feet, trying to disable him, so he dropped me. Normally, I liked it when Seth exercised his superior strength to hold me, but not today.

  One large hand captured mine, which waved the lethal katana. "Let's put this away first, and then you can interrogate Frank. If he doesn't answer to your satisfaction, I promise I'll help you torture him."

  No. I wanted to torture him first, then ask questions. But at least he stood his ground. I expected him to jump in the motorcar and flee like a coward. That's what his type did, broke a girl's heart and then moved on to the next one without so much as a glance backwards at the wreckage.

  "Why, Frank? Why did you let her believe you felt anything for her?" It troubled me that most that he could lead her on. All this time I thought the two of them made a cute couple, and yet I was mistaken. With the sword gone, the urge to fight drained from my body. It was as though part of Alice's despair reached out for me. I wanted to drop to the ground and sob. How could he?

  "It's not like that. Bloody woman took off like a startled rabbit and I couldn't catch her." He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture so like Seth. Then he dropped the bonnet and rested one hip on the motor. His fingers drummed on the shiny paintwork.

  From what Alice said, it was exactly like that. I failed to see that he had any defence whatsoever. She confessed her love and the cad threw it back in her face with a laugh. I bided my time until Seth dropped my sword closer to my fingers. "You either start explaining or I put more holes in you than a colander."

  "Ouch. I can't believe you like this girl, Seth." His attempt to inject humour in the situation failed.

  "Frank." Seth murmured his name but it came out as a single syllable warning.

  The half-brothers exchanged a long stare and then Frank's torso heaved a big sigh.

  "I do feel for Alice. All right? It's just that in the moment, when she handed me everything, she caught me off guard. I didn't know what to say—" He threw up his hands as though the gesture was supposed to be his explanation.

  Who would have thought it? Cool, collected, silver-tongued Frank Mercer was at a loss for words. The man who made the ladies blush by whispering sweet nothings in their ears had nothing to say when a woman handed him her heart.

  "You laughed at her." Let's hear his explanation for that. I still wasn't going to let him get away with hurting her. I could either do lots of shallow holes in his torso or just a couple of really deep ones. I was trying to figure out what would hurt more and last longer.

  "
I care for her, Ella. Deeply. More than any other girl I have ever known. But when Alice said she loved me, I didn't know what to say so that she would believe me. Do you know how many girls have said they loved me and I simply repeated the words back to them? A hollow echo that meant nothing." Frank's voice dropped low and for once, he also dropped the brash persona. Here was the real Frank, but was he telling the truth?

  Seth handed me the sword. "Here, I think you will need this after all. I'll fetch a shovel, although Frank is digging a rather impressive hole all on his own."

  "All right, I admit that didn't come out right." His hand went through his hair again, a nervous action.

  I'd never seen Frank out of sorts before. My fingers tightened around the hilt of the katana.

  "I wanted Alice to believe me, but when I tried to say the words, it sounded exactly like all the other times when I said it to all the other girls." He tried to still his hands on the bonnet of the motorcar, but his fingers developed a twitch and kept rapping on the metal.

  "I'm going to kill you," I whispered. Just how many women had he told that he loved them? With every word, he confirmed his player status. Alice was special, and she deserved better than him. I took a step forward. The man was unbelievable. He strung girls along and used them. Well, this girl with a sword was putting an end to his reign of heartbreak.

  He jumped as I approached. The next words gushed out of him like water from a burst riverbank. "I didn't know what to do. Fearless Frank didn't know what to do with his best girl. The only girl he has ever truly loved. So I started laughing at how absurd it was that I couldn't spit out three little words to tell her she means the world to me. Then she ran off."

  The idiot. How hard could it be to tell someone you love them and mean it? Something scratched at the back of my mind and threw those words at me. I swallowed and pushed the thought aside. "She more than ran. She's gone."