She reached out to fiddle with the hairbrushes on the vanity before her. “Do you think that’s wise?”
The maid moved to the corner of the bureau, bottles clinking as she repacked my sister’s valise. It was clear that she was listening even if she was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible.
“I’m not sure that wisdom is the predominating consideration in this matter, but, yes, I believe I’m using good judgment.”
My sister’s gaze locked with mine. “Jenny,” she told her maid. “Give us a moment.”
The maid glided silently across the carpet and closed the door behind her with a soft click.
Alana inhaled deeply. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”
I crossed the room to rest my hands on her shoulders and smiled sadly at her reflection. “Yes.”
She sighed and dropped her head. The scent of her French perfume wafted up, so similar to the fragrance our mother had worn, and made my heart clench. I knew she had chosen that particular cologne on purpose, but I wasn’t sure she realized I was aware of its sentimentality.
Alana nodded in resignation. “I knew it was silly to ask, but I guess I felt I had to try.” She grinned sheepishly and reached back to clasp my hand where it rested on her shoulder. “Of course I realized you couldn’t remain with me forever, but I never thought I would be saying good-bye so soon.”
I squeezed her shoulder in reassurance. “It won’t be for long. Just until William is better able to cope. You understand why I must try to help him?” I asked, suddenly anxious for her to know I wasn’t abandoning her.
Her penetrating gaze told me she understood far better than I could have hoped. “I do.”
I leaned forward to wrap my arms around her, pressing my cheek to hers. “Promise me you will take care of yourself. And this troublesome little one,” I added, making my sister sniffle and giggle. “Listen to what your physician tells you. Unless he tells you nonsense, like you should be eating less. You’re eating for two, and once you get to Edinburgh and your stomach stops protesting, you need to put some weight back on.” I stood up to shake my finger at her. “I expect you to have gained at least a stone the next time I see you.”
“All right . . .”
“Don’t let Philip and this physician naysay me on this. You and I know better what you need than two silly men.”
Alana turned to grab hold of my wagging finger. “Kiera . . .”
“And I expect you to send for me if you need me. No hesitating. I’ll be the one to decide whether you’re being daft once I see you.”
“Kiera,” Alana said in a sharper voice, pulling me closer.
“Promise me,” I ordered, feeling terrified that something might go wrong with Alana or the baby while I was away. I had never seriously considered such a thing happening, but now I was worried I was doing the wrong thing by staying at Dalmay House.
Alana clasped both of my hands between her own and stared reassuringly into my eyes. “I promise.”
I nodded and dropped my gaze to her too-flat belly. Swallowing against the lump that had formed at the back of my throat, I reached out to press my hand to the deep claret fabric of her traveling costume. “And you behave in there, you hear me? Or you’ll have your aunt Kiera to answer to.” I had intended to be stern, but my voice emerged much more like a caress.
I straightened to find my sister watching me with a strange smile curling the corners of her lips.
“What?” I demanded.
She shook her head. “I’ve just always been the mothering one. It’s a bit strange to find our roles reversed.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and turned my head to stare out the window to my right.
“And . . . kind of nice,” she admitted.
I glanced back to find a welcome glow cresting her wan cheeks.
I reached out to run a thumb over the dark purple circle under one of her eyes. “Did you get any sleep last night?”
Alana tilted her head. “Are you saying I don’t look my best?”
I arched an eyebrow in scolding.
“Don’t worry, dearest,” she told me, rising to her feet. “The drive to our town house is less than ten miles. I’ll be able to rest tonight.”
I knew she was right, but I wouldn’t stop worrying about her until I knew she had received a full night’s sleep and passed a few days without losing the contents of her stomach. “Send me a note to let me know you’ve arrived safely,” I requested, sinking into the chair she had vacated.
“Of course.”
Alana pulled the evening gown she had worn the previous night out of the wardrobe and laid it over the golden coverlet on the bed, and then turned back to pull out two more dresses. I knew my sister had no intention of actually doing the packing—that was her maid’s job—but she needed something to do with her hands while she worked around to asking me about whatever was on her mind. I suspected it had something to do with William Dalmay, but I should have guessed my sister was contemplating something far more treacherous.