Page 70 of The Favourite

“Oh, he wasn’t.”

It was at this moment that the door creaked open, and Robert shuffled in again. By mutual accord, they both moved back, pulling their hands apart in an almost furtive manner. The old servant was bearing a flagon of ale. “Ye’re back, milord,” he said with surprise. “And early too. Marriage must be making a punctual man of you.”

Jane avoided Alisander’s gaze, though she could feel it remained on her. She busied herself gathering up her letters into a bundle and re-tying them up with string. Stupid to feel like they had been interrupted indulging in something they ought not.

She was glad it was not just her that had sprung back so guiltily. In fact, now she came to think of it, Alisander was a good deal more respectful in his behavior in front of Robert. Why was that? As soon as Robert had plunked down the ale and retreated, she spoke the thought aloud. “You are different with Robert than you are with other people, I find.”

“Am I?” He sounded bored, his gaze wandering about the room as though she had lost his interest. She felt her instinctive reaction to shrink back into herself, but something held her back this time. He did not actually find her dull company. He had told her as much a few times now.

If she was not boring him, then instead, she must be straying into waters he did not wish her to navigate. She had experienced last night how dismissive he could be when she asked about things he did not care to divulge. Then again, he had pried into her own childhood with a shocking want of tact, so why should she tiptoe around his own?

Instead of retreating, she asked boldly, “Has he been your servant for many years?”

He looked faintly surprised by her words. “You expect me to keep track of my servants’ years of service?” he asked. “What a novel idea.”

Jane paused. “It is of no matter; I can simply ask Robert himself. I am sure he will tell me.”

He went still, and an appreciative smile curved his lips. “Ah, Jane, you are growing sadly devious.”

“Are you proud? It is doubtless your influence.”

“A little,” he admitted, “but there are other areas I would far rather you followed my example.” He gave her a sidelong glance which had her lips trembling to ask what areas but then she would be falling into his trap and letting him distract her.

“So … how long?” she persisted.

He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “In my employ? Oh, it must be some ten years, or thereabouts.” Something about the way he said that did not sit right with Jane. She examined his words with a frown.

Alisander sighed. “He was the first servant I ever employed,” he admitted in the manner of one conceding some great favor.

“He did not know you as a boy then,” she said, feeling strangely disappointed. She had thought for a moment she had discovered some secret.

“Wherever would you form an idea like that? You think because he is an old man with a Lasconian accent, then he must have known me from infancy?” The faint mockery in his voice caught her in a sore spot.

Jane flushed. “No, of course not—” she started before something alerted her. She was not sure what. Had his shoulders relaxed infinitesimally? They had, she decided, as though he had breathed easier once he had her on her back foot. She had almost fallen for his tricks again, she thought indignantly. “Well, I am sure he will corroborate that fact when I get him alone and ask him on the morrow,” she said aloud.

Alisander’s expression wavered, and his lips quirked up at the corners. “Sneaky Jane,” he said softly. “Very well, since you are determined to put me to the blush, it so happens that Robert did know me as a child. He was in the employ of my late family, in fact.”

She knew it. Jane leaned back in her chair and regarded him thoughtfully. “And as soon as you reached your majority, you sought him out and took him into your own service?”

Alisander gave a short laugh. “Nothing so dramatic, I assure you. Our paths crossed somewhere or other.” He waved a hand. “I forget where. No doubt, I was feeling sentimental for the old days.” He said the words with such airy carelessness that no one would ever take them for sincere.

“I expect you were,” Jane said quietly and was satisfied to see a tiny flicker of emotion pass over his face.

“Jane,” he said warningly.

“What? I am not allowed to be curious. Only you?”

That gave him pause. He sighed. “Promise me, you won’t question Robert in my absence. Talk of the old days … upsets him.”

“I should not wish to do that,” she said truthfully and hesitated. “Very well, you have my word.”

He smiled his most charming smile. “Thank you.”

Somehow, Jane thought with dissatisfaction, he always seemed to get his own way. She also did not believe him one bit, about just happening to cross paths with Robert somewhere as a grown man. It was, she thought, exactly like her gold ring all over again.

18

Supper that evening was largely uneventful, and Alisander thought Jane’s reply decidedly lackluster when he asked how she had spent her afternoon.