Julia stopped dead and gaped at her. “What? Why? Does he know your father?”
“No, not at all. But he said he was asked by Lord Hastings, whom Papa had gone to see, to offer his aid in looking for Papa.”
This was clearly news to Julia. “Lord Hastings?” she repeated. “Who is he? How would Alec know him?”
“Lord Hastings was a commissary officer Papa knew in the war. Papa was very hopeful Lord Hastings might recommend him for a position he wanted.”
“Oh. The army.” Julia still looked puzzled, but then her expression grew grimmer. “Then that’s why Alec’s come home. Has the army known all along where he was, I wonder? And after the things they told my mother…” She broke off and pressed her lips together.
Cressida hesitated. “Should I not trust him, then? Callie thinks I’m mad to hesitate, no matter what…Well, it is what we wanted, having someone sent by Lord Hastings to discover where Papa has gone.” It was unsettling to realize how much she had hoped Julia would put her worries to rest, and declare Major Hayes trustworthy and the victim of terrible lies and injustice. The notion of someone riding to their rescue and locating her errant father was appealing, even if the person of Major Hayes shredded her nerves. If Julia defended him, her decision in three days would be that much clearer.
Looking troubled, Julia shook her head. “I don’t know.” She lifted her shoulders helplessly. “I simply don’t know him anymore. Before…” She glanced around and lowered her voice, and they resumed walking, leaning their heads close together. “Well, he was as wild as any young man, I suppose, although I was a girl at the time and thought him simply brilliant. He was so dashing and so daring, always in the thick of trouble but so much fun. He was in love with Marianne, you know, and we all thought she would marry him; every girl in Marston was mad in love with him.” Cressida’s eyes widened. “But he had joined the army by then, and while he was gone, Frederick fell in love with her and she with him. When Alec came home, there was a horrible row; he said awful things. Freddie of course just listened quietly, as he always did, and then Alec went back to the army. Before—Before Waterloo, we always heard such grand reports of him as an officer, how fearless and capable he was. Twice he was mentioned in Wellington’s dispatches for his bravery, to my father’s immense pride. But then of course that all changed, and now…I just don’t know. How could a man disappear for five years and let his family think him dead—and worse?” The bitterness was creeping back into her voice. “It killed my father. He was ill when Alec left, and the news that Alec was missing and presumed dead was devastating enough. But then, to hear he had been a traitor…The shame killed Father, I know it. And now Alec’s just reappeared, without one word of explanation or contrition, and I cannot forgive him for it. He seems to think we’ve all been waiting for him to come home and will go on as if nothing has changed.”
“He must have a reason,” said Cressida slowly. She wasn’t precisely defending the major, but put that way, the major’s disappearance sounded uncomfortably like her own father’s “expeditions.” Except for the bit Julia had left out, the part about treason. Surely that demanded some sort of explanation.
“Not one he’s condescended to tell us. He’s upended everything, and only Mother is happy about it. The rest of us don’t know what to say or do around him, and he seems not to notice or care.”
“Perhaps if you tell him…” Cressida thought of her father again, who never seemed to understand how much his absences upset the family routine. Of course, her grandmother was just waiting for him to reappear, and she would act as if nothing had changed. More than once Cressida had been obliged to swallow her own impertinent remarks after one of Papa’s expeditions. “Perhaps he hasn’t yet realized how his return affected everyone.”
“It would pain my mother if I said anything. She’s been revived since we received word he was still alive and well, and would banish me to live in the stables if I ruined her joy and happiness.” Julia smiled ruefully. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to listen to me ramble on about sordid family matters.”
Cressida flipped one hand. “As if you haven’t listened to me complain in my turn! Who can one complain to, if not to one’s friends?”
Julia laughed. “Indeed! But you asked me a question, and I fear I cannot answer. Once upon a time, there was no one like Alec for achieving the impossible. He thrived on it, in fact; let Freddie or Will Lacey say a shot could not be made or a horse could not be ridden, and Alec would risk his neck to do it. Father used to say he was indestructible. Five years ago I would have sworn he could do anything he undertook, and that you could wager your life on his word. But can you trust him now? I don’t know, Cressida.”
Cressida sighed. This was certainly complicating her view of the major. “Thank you anyway, Julia.”
“If you find you cannot trust him, why, you could always write to Lord Hastings again and express your disappointment.” Julia looked grim again. “No doubt Lord Hastings will be able to guess why.”
Cressida managed another weak smile, knowing she wouldn’t dare do that.
“Oh. I nearly forgot.” Julia sighed. “Or rather, I wanted to forget. Mother is having a party. Not a ball, because of Freddie, but a small party, because of Alec. She’s desperate to reestablish him in Marston’s eyes, after all the scandal broth brewed here over him. Do say you’ll come.”
Her face burned. A party, at the beautiful Penford estate? Even if she had a gown worth wearing, she wasn’t certain
