CHAPTER 7
At the Oxley Hotel
Tie, what are you doing standing there?" Jenny complained. "I've been expecting you at any moment for nearly the entire day."
Alix turned from the upper-story window in the Oxley Hotel, where an afternoon breeze blew back the curtains. She had been to Oxley Commons any number of times, but whenever she spent the night, it had always been in the cottages reserved for stable owners nearer the barns.
"I'm sorry, Jenny." She began her contrived apology as she followed the maid to the dressing room. "I had something of a problem after you'd left, and no one to help me solve it."
"But when I left, you were ready to leave."
"But then I noticed my bonnet in the mirror." Alix dared not try to explain the sticky situation with Lily's husband. The maid had no sooner left the house on the cart with the overnight luggage than Alix had looked out to find Midnight Star waiting by the coach.
"What was wrong with your bonnet?" Jenny asked in perplexity.
Alix removed it gingerly. She could not relate how she had waited behind Lily's door, listening to Nicholas pace in the hall. He had gone up and down the stairs a number of times, waiting for her to appear so they could leave for the races. "Nothing, I suppose, but I thought I should wear the pink serge."
Jenny took it doubtfully. "But you dislike the pink serge."
"I thought so, too, but when I looked at this ecru bonnet in the mirror, I thought, Why not?" After all, she had nothing else to do while biding time in the hope that Lily's husband would tire of waiting and ride Midnight Star away. She could never explain her pet's reaction at the sight of her. Not only could she not withstand a battery of questions about Midnight Star's infatuation when she was purportedly Lily Griffon, but, given her uncle's absence, she doubted the young man taking his place could manage to control Midnight on his own. To avoid a potentially disastrous scene, she made excuses whenever the butler came to inquire if she needed assistance.
Jenny considered her skeptically. "Why not?"
Alix tugged on her gloves to remove them and shrugged innocently. "Yes, but the amaretto was better suited to match the olive green in the paisley."
"But you didn't wish to wear paisley," the maid replied pointedly, "and you're still wearing the flowered print."
"0h, yes, I am now." She had never changed, even though she was touting the excuse to describe her delay. In actuality, she had been pacing back and forth, too, from Lily's window to the door, waiting for her chance. Finally, one of the neighbors riding by on a white horse had stopped for a word, distracting the stallion's attention. She had fled downstairs, catching the butler at lunch. She'd had no time to wait while his assistant fumbled for her things, and she'd simply snatched them from his hands in a mad dash through the door. She had almost made it into the coach without anyone's noticing her, but Lily's sharp-eyed husband paused with his mouth agape as she yanked the coach door open, and broke off his conversation with the neighbor to glare at her belated appearance with unconcealed disgust.
Now Jenny remained unconvinced as well. "You changed dresses?" she asked, pursuing Alix's story doubtfully.
"Well, not exactly, but the idea did occur to me." Alix smiled sweetly, spreading her skirt as she settled on the dressing-room seat. "It all started with the white shoes." She hoped Jenny would explain her indecision to Albert Frisk, and that perhaps the tale would help to defray Lily's poor husband's tension, because he was nearly livid with frustration. She had not wished to anger him.
"Here now, don't tell me you were rummaging amok in milady's closets," Jenny warned sternly.
"Me? How could I ever?" Alix claimed innocently, although she would have loved to shred every piece of clothing dear Lily owned. During the morning's unfortunate delay, she had realized that she might not necessarily return to Lily's place if Quenton secured Robbie's missing deed, and so had piled sacks of lingerie in the hall for the maids. She hoped to leave Lily a strong message upon her return. The maids would have a gay time sorting through what they liked, and dear Lily could deal with a lack of underpinnings later. "You do see how these shoes match this gown better than the brown ones you had chosen."
Jenny dropped on her knees to unlace them. "Pishposh, who wears white outdoors? You like these because they're made for you. Haven't you ever had a new pair of shoes before?"
"I pity the penny they cost His Lordship; it's not his place to pay for my cobbler."
"Fie, as if he ever settles a bill, when that's Percival Winston's job. I've explained it to you before. It's obvious you've never lived in a fine house, either."
Alix laughed. "Begorra! In England, even the servants are snooty!"
"I'm not snooty," Jenny declared in a huff, pushing up from her stool to put the shoes away. "I never would've guessed you're Irish. You've nary an accent."
"Och, so it's an accent yer a-wantin'?" she replied in a thick Scottish burr she had borrowed from the farm's closest neighbor, Andrew MacGregor.
Jenny's eyes narrowed in suspicious surprise. "You must be one of those backstreet actresses."
Alix answered with lines from Macbeth as she rose to step out of her skirt. "Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more.'"
"Fie, I knew you were an actress," Jenny decided as she went to add hot water from the steaming kettle to the washbasin. "We'd better hurry, or you'll be late."
"Have you made arrangements for tea?" Alix changed the subject as she shrugged out of her blouse. "Me? Why do you ask?"
"I thought you might be meeting your handsome Albert Frisk . . . Why are you laughing?"
Jenny added a towel to the rack and turned to pull out fresh undergarments. "For one thing, I'm not his type."
"I don't know," Alix demurred as she went to wash. "What would be his type?"
"Well, for starters, he likes women with a bit more up here," Jenny asserted as she cupped her breasts. "And more here," she added, with a jocular slap on her hip.
Alix plunged into the water and spoke between splashes.
"That only calls for different underpinnings. You've said as much yourself."
"As if I have time for foolish notions."
"Why not?" Alix asked as she dried herself with the towel and used it to wave at the open valise, overflowing with underclothes, on the lowboy. "Just use something from there."
"Now I know you're full of nonsense. Besides, don't forget I'm a little tart for that one's flavoring."
Alix climbed into a fresh chemise and settled on the bench to put on clean stockings. "What's wrong with tart? Not everything delectable is sweet."
"Do you ever hear yourself ? What makes you think I'd be interested in such a man?"
"Well, he's tall, and terribly good looking." "If you feel that way, then you take him."
"Me!" Alix laughed in a merry protest. "He's not come around to flirt with me! Besides, there are some things to admire. He has definitive taste, the same as you. His attention proves he finds you attractive."
"If that's true,