But naught could develop from infatuation with his kind, surely. She was nobody—not any more. A servant. Mr King was rich and famous. She was uneducated compared to him. He was a genius. Why should her heart yearn for what could never be?
Before Papa’s business failed, she might have been equal to one of his ilk. Her mind drifted back to that awful evening outside Papa’s study, when she had eavesdropped on James asking for her hand. Good and kind James, who was more than able to provide for her. But Papa had denied him, claiming he needed Serena more. What a crushing blow it had been. Since then she had scarcely hoped for anything. At every turn, her family’s needs outweighed her own desires. Why should her fortunes change now? It was her family’s needs that placed her here at Aleron in the first place.
Serena turned toward the stables to search for Mr Xavier. She could, at the least, continue a friendship with him. However, as she looked up, not he but Mr Simon strode toward her. And he wore an unpleasant scowl on his face.
‘What game are you playing at, Miss Bellingham?’ No greeting, no pleasantries. Mr Simon launched straight into accusations.
Thrown off guard, Serena opened and closed her mouth, then shook her head in confusion. ‘I cannot think what you mean by that, Mr Simon.’
‘That you encouraged Uncle Ed to stay out an entire night, what else would I mean?’
Serena almost released a snort of disdain. He couldn’t be further from the truth. And even if he wasn’t, what business was it of his? She gave him a direct look. ‘I encouraged him. Is that what you think?’
‘Well, you’ve wheedled your way into employment here, even though no staff were needed. You were the one who allowed Moncrief to roam the house. And now you’ve kept him out wandering the streets of Sydney till the sun rose. What more is there to assume but that you either plan to bring about his ruin, or you are what they call a fortune hunter? Can you deny it?’
Shocked and gaping, Serena scrambled for a response. Of course, she could deny it. Should deny it. Mr Simon had jumped to extreme conclusions. And yet, she couldn’t admit the truth, lest she hurt Papa. A fortune hunter of all things! Serena forced aside her annoyance to meet Mr Simon with a little logic. ‘Moncrief was a misunderstanding, when will you realise that? And as for Mr King, you make him sound as if he has no mind of his own.’
At that, Mr Simon backed off a little—his shoulders straightened and his scowl transformed more into a mask of confusion. ‘Of course he does.’
‘Then give him some credit, will you? Don’t assume a servant such as myself can wrap him around her little finger, not that I even wish to do so.’
He thrust his hands in his pockets. ‘Of course you can’t. Uncle Ed’s too smart for that.’
Interesting. In the space of a few sentences, Serena had made Mr Simon defend his uncle from a different angle. That might be something to remember. She pressed her lips together to hide a smile. ‘Precisely.’
Mr Simon half-turned away, gave her a sidelong glance that said he was not convinced of her innocence, and then trudged back to wherever he’d been.
Serena watched after him with narrowed eyes while releasing a long breath through her nose. Fortune hunter, indeed. Or, what was the other thing he’d suggested—that she intended to ruin Mr King. She folded her arms across her chest. It was beyond enduring. She had half a mind to go straight to Mr Simon’s uncle and repeat their conversation. How would Mr King react to that? On second thoughts, that mightn’t be a good idea. Mr King was likely to agree with Mr Simon. After all, he had accused her of thievery like her father more than once, even though his belief was misconstrued.
Turning toward the stables as she had done only a few minutes earlier, she recommenced her mission to find Mr Xavier. This time though, she had more in mind than pleasant company. Serena found him mucking out the stalls and Mr Xavier noticed her seconds before raking a pile of rank-smelling hay and dung onto her feet.
‘I beg pardon, Miss Bellingham.’ Colour marked his cheeks as he stopped the rake just in time. ‘I did not hear you coming.’
‘Never mind, Mr Xavier. No harm done.’ Serena offered him a benign smile and leaned against one of the rough wooden posts, careful not to splinter her hands.
The handsome groom leaned on the rake. ‘How do you fare after, er, last night?’
There, it was foremost in his mind as well. It should not have surprised Serena. ‘I’m a little tired, though I shouldn’t complain. I have slept half the day away.’
‘Yes, you were fast asleep when Uncle Ed carried you inside this morning.’
Serena tried to smother a gasp. Mr King had carried her to bed? That was even more embarrassing than falling asleep on his shoulder. She studied Mr Xavier’s face, trying to read his judgement on the incident. He, in turn, studied her. She steeled her features. She must not allow Mr Xavier to learn how tumultuous Mr King made her feel. She cleared her throat. ‘Well, I have no recollection of that, so I must have been.’ On another whim, she arched her brows and smirked. ‘Serves him right for keeping me up till dawn.’
Mr Xavier let out a gentle chuckle. ‘Don’t be too hard on Uncle Ed. He gets enthusiastic around architecture.’ He moulded his features into a thoughtful expression. ‘My guess is, the lighthouse was not enough, so he dragged you off to see every building in Sydney of architectural significance. According to him, that is.’
It was Serena’s turn to giggle. ‘You have been on the same tour then, I assume.’
‘A few weeks after Mr Greenway died. I was old enough to
