A Little Winter Scandal: A Regency Christmas Collection
Page 3
He resumed reading the brief missive, his eyes dipping in confusion.
Pembroke, I want you at Danby Castle within the week. This is not a request.
The Duke of Danby
“His Grace requires your presence posthaste.”
“I’m sorry?” Nathan asked, dumbfounded by the note from Alexandra’s grandfather.
“I said His Grace—”
“I’ve ascertained as much,” he drawled.
The stranger bowed low and continued walking down the pavement.
Nathan blinked at the immediate departure. “Who are you?” he called after him.
The unknown man didn’t even turn around. His words carried on the midnight quiet. “I’m the duke’s eyes and ears.”
Chapter 4
A series of harsh, staccato raps penetrated the fog of Alexandra’s sleep. She tugged her pillow over her head, willing the sound away.
“Go away,” she muttered, the fabric of the pillow muffling her words.
Then, mercifully, the knocking stopped. She closed her eyes. She willed her body back to sleep, but then remembrances of last night’s scandal intruded and sleep was forgotten.
She groaned, wishing it had been nothing more than a horrible nightmare, wishing Nathan had never…
“It is time to face the day, my dear.”
The pillow was dragged from her head and she threw her hand across her eyes to blot out the bright rays penetrating the room.
“Mother,” she mumbled, by way of greeting.
The mattress dipped as her mother claimed the spot next to her.
“You’ve sulked long enough, Alexandra.”
“Is that what you think this is, Mother? Sulking?” Alexandra blinked and popped up. She threw aside the coverlet. “Is that how you see it? I had my heart broken.” She enunciated each word slowly. The admission alone felt like her skin had been ripped into with a smartly delivered lash.
“You destroyed your social image, Alexandra.”
Surely she’d heard her mother wrong? That was what Mother was focused on? Should Alexandra really expect anything different? Emotional outbursts and plebian sentiments such as love were scoffed at by Society. And yet—“I loved him, Mother.” She bit out each word, willing her to understand.
Her mother glanced at a point over Alexandra’s shoulder. “You engaged in a mere flirtation. He brought you flowers. Wrote you poems.”
Alexandra’s eyes slid closed, as if the action might dull the aching pain. “He did not write me poems, Mother.”
Her mind went to a particular moment. I will not waste your time putting inadequate words to paper. There are no words sufficient to capture your beauty.
Her lips twisted cynically. What he’d probably meant was she wasn’t capable of inspiring any man into putting pen to paper.
Her mother’s hand danced about the air. “When this scandal is behind you, you will find a man worthy of the Marquess of Tewkesbury’s daughter. Pembroke was never deserving of you.”
A bitter laugh trapped in Alexandra’s throat. “How simple you make it all sound.”
But she didn’t dispute her mother’s words. A man who’d paid court to her, who’d snipped a lock of her hair to always keep it close and then so callously wagered on her name in the books at White’s, was certainly no gentleman. Mother was correct; Nathan hadn’t been worthy of her.
That reality brought no solace to Alexandra. It just hurt her all the more. How could she have been so wrong about him? How could she have given her heart to one so calculated and cruel? Her faulty decision shook her to the core, rattled her already limited self-confidence.
Which only served as another aching reminder of one of the reasons she had fallen in love with Nathan. He hadn’t looked at her and seen a too-plump young lady who danced with two left feet, a clumsy clod, as her father had called her. He had respected her mind, enjoyed their witty repartee. He had called her beautiful.
And she’d been fool enough to believe him.
She had staunchly defended his suit against her father’s bellowing condemnations of the match. Her father had reminded her that she was no great beauty and threatened that Nathan would just make light of her name.
In the end, her father had been right.
No, there was little comfort to be found in this entire situation.
In fact, the only thing she found comfort in was that it would be at least another week before news of her scandal reached all the way to Yorkshire—and her grandfather’s ears.
Her mother’s voice broke through Alexandra’s unhappy thoughts. “We received a missive from the duke this morning.”
Alexandra collapsed against the pillows and flung a hand over her eyes yet again. “That isn’t possible.”
“My dear, I thought you would know by now, the duke makes it his business to know each family member’s business.”
Alexandra sat up and shoved her fingers through her hair. Yes, she did know that. Fortunate for her, she’d always managed to escape the duke’s notice.
Until last night.
“It has been less than twelve hours.”
Her mother arched a brow. “Alexandra, you’ve been sleeping all day. It is nearly two o’clock.”
Alexandra’s eyes flew to the chintz clock across the room. She squinted to make sight of the numbers. Good Heavens, her mother was correct. Since she’d cloistered herself away in her room at ten o’clock the evening before, she’d lost track of time.
“Still, the only way he could possibly have found out so quickly was if he had a man present at Lord and Lady Williams’s,” she protested.
“My dear, haven’t you already learned your grandfather has eyes and ears wherever his offspring are scattered?”
Be that as it may, Alexandra would venture there was no way her grandfather had such firsthand knowledge of her far more interesting cousins who were off in France, America, or on the high seas. No, only she and the other unfortunate souls who happened to call England home were so closely scrutinized.
There was a firm knock at the door. Before Alexandra or Mother could respond, the door opened. Olivia sailed into the room with the aforementioned missive in her hands. She waved it about.
“My, the duke is fast. I’d imagine he has assigned someone to monitor each member of our esteemed family’s activities.” She gave a mock shudder. “I fear the day I receive my missive is not long off.”
Their mother gasped and snatched the note. “Olivia, do not even jest about such a thing!”
Olivia caught Alexandra’s eye and gave a sly wink.
“Come now, Alex. Open it up,” Olivia prodded.
Alexandra squinted. The glint of the silver tray reflecting in the sun’s beaming rays nearly blinded her. It seemed to rain in England nearly every day. Why, why, on this one day couldn’t she receive a day that matched her spirits?
Alexandra didn’t say anything. She didn’t make a move to accept the missive. Instead she stared at the note as though Olivia came bearing a tray of plague-infested rodents with a taste for blood.
Alexandra groaned and covered her eyes.
“I’m not reading it.” She shook her head for good measure.
“You are not a coward, Alexandra. Your actions last night are proof of that,” Olivia offered supportively.
She flinched at the reminder of her antics in Lord and Lady Williams’s ballroom—and card room.
Not that she needed any reminder. She’d been sure there had been a hint of agony in his clear blue gaze, but it had faded so quickly, she’d convinced herself it had merely been her own feelings reflected back at her. The nearly indecipherable expression worn by Nathan would haunt her until she drew her last breath. What had he been thinking? Had he felt any regret?
Her pain was what mobilized her fingers and allowed her to accept the blasted note. She’d rather deal with the Duke’s icy disapproval than memories of…of…him.
She didn’t even reach for the blade on the tray. Instead she slipped
her nail beneath the flap and parted Danby’s emblazoned gold seal.
Alexandra,
In light of your recent scandal at Lord and Lady Williams’s card rooms, I expect your arrival in Yorkshire within the week. Bring my daughter and your sister. Leave your father.
~Danby
Alexandra groaned.
Her mother wrung her hands nervously. “What is it?”
Olivia snatched the parchment from Alexandra’s hands. “Do let me see that.” She scanned the missive with a smile and handed it back to Alexandra. “Have your things packed, Mother. It seems we are off to Danby Castle. Well, at least the three of us, anyways.”
This time it was their mother who groaned, sinking onto the edge of the mattress. It was her turn to reach for the note now clenched tightly between Alexandra’s fingers.
“Release it, my dear.” She tugged it free. Wide, blue eyes scanned the missive. “It seems your father has received a reprieve.”
Alexandra managed her first smile. Her mother had the tone of a petulant child.
The moment was fleeting. Mother took to her feet and gave a determined little shake of her head. “Mayhap this is just what you need, Alex,” slipping into the moniker from childhood. “You will be best served with some distance between you and—and…the scandal.”
Which was how her mother had decided to refer to the incident at Lord and Lady Williams’s home—the scandal.
Alexandra nodded in agreement. Her mother was right. This distance was just what she needed to forget Nathan.
Chapter 5
Alexandra ignored her mother’s indignant rant. She rubbed a hand over the iced window. After four very long days, they had arrived. She peered up and up and up…to the impressive visage of Danby Castle. It was a foreboding stone testament to medieval times. A perfectly daunting place for a dour, commanding duke to live.
There was a perfunctory knock on the carriage door. Alexandra grasped the door handle and flung it open before Mother could issue the command. She accepted the hand of a waiting footman, eager to get out of the carriage that had seemed more like a coffin. In it, she’d been trapped for the better part of two and a half days with tortured thoughts of—
Alexandra gave her head a forceful shake, banishing memories of…of…him.
The day was dark and dreary. Finally, she had her miserable day to suit her miserable mood. And of course, that too brought no solace.
“What a beautiful day. It has snowed! How beautiful Danby Castle looks with the gleam of ice and coating of snow,” Olivia prattled.
Her sister’s words were so convincing, Alexandra had to steal another peek around to confirm whether she’d judged Danby Castle too harshly.
No, no, she had the right of it.
Wordlessly, Alexandra followed her mother, grateful for her loquacious sister’s distracting presence. They hadn’t even reached the front doors before the butler threw them open in greeting. He bowed low. The housekeeper, Mrs. Ealey, stood beside him and offered a deep curtsey.
“Lady Tewkesbury, my ladies,” Milne said.
Two servants rushed forward to assist them out of their travel-worn velvet cloaks.
Their mother, ever the epitome of regal elegance, even after hours and hours of uninterrupted travel, tipped her head in acknowledgement.
“The Duke of Danby requests your presence.”
“Now?” her mother squawked.
So much for regal elegance.
Milne nodded. “Now, my lady.”
Her mother eyed the long stairway longingly, and then with a sigh followed Milne to the Duke of Danby’s lair. At least Alexandra would be spared…for now.
Perhaps His Grace would place blame for Alexandra’s actions on her mother. Oh, what a horribly childish, albeit optimistic, wish.
“My ladies, may I show you to your rooms?”
Alexandra spared a distracted glance for the expectant housekeeper. What had the woman said? Olivia nudged Alexandra in the side.
“Uh, that would be lovely, Mrs. Ealey,” Olivia supplied for her.
As they made the climb to the living quarters and down the hall, Alexandra rubbed her hands together, hoping the friction would warm the near frozen appendages. From inside her battered soul to her travel-bruised body, she was utterly miserable.
“The Duke of Danby has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”
Oh, I bet he has.
“Why, I can’t remember the last time I saw His Grace this excited.”
Excited? Was that a kind word for livid?
Her non-responses were clearly no deterrent for the housekeeper, who chatted on and on. Alexandra continued to follow Mrs. Ealey in mute silence. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…
“Twenty-five steps.”
The older woman paused at the top of the stairway and blinked. “I’m sorry, my lady?”
“She was counting,” Olivia explained.
Mrs. Ealey’s brow furrowed in perplexity. “Beg pardon?”
Alexandra glared her sister into silence. “It is nothing at all.”
The woman turned, continued down the long corridor, and paused before a door. She opened it for Alexandra. “Here we are, my lady.”
Thank goodness. There was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to shut the door, ring for a hot bath to soak her aching muscles, and then bury herself beneath a mound of warmed blankets.
Olivia had other plans for Alexandra. “That will be all for now, Mrs. Ealey. If you’ll excuse us.”
“Very well.” The housekeeper directed her focus to Alexandra. “The Duke of Danby requests your presence in half an hour.”
Her eyes slid closed and she sighed. “Of course he does. What could be finer?”
Apparently the housekeeper couldn’t think of anything else, for she failed to respond.
“Alexandra, Olivia. My dear cousins, it is so splendid to see you.”
Alexandra started at the unexpected interruption. She turned to face her cousin, Lady Emma, the daughter of the Danby dukedom heir and…
A handsome gentleman beside her bowed.
If Alexandra hadn’t been so tired, if she hadn’t had her heart broken, if she wasn’t more than slightly rumpled from their long carriage ride, she would have been more intrigued. As it was, she could only muster a faint curiosity for the man standing so close to her cousin.
Then he looked down at Emma, with such loving adoration that Alexandra nearly pitched over with the intensity of jealous pain.
“Oh dear Alexandra, it is so good to see you,” Emma greeted warmly. “May I introduce you to my husband, Lord Heathfield. Heath, these are my cousins, Lady Alexandra and Lady Olivia.”
“A pleasure, my ladies,” Heathfield murmured.
Alexandra answered for the sisters. “Likewise, my lord.”
Husband?
Oh, Alexandra would love to know the story there. Someday. Not now. Not when she needed to get inside her chambers, shut the door, and curl herself up into a weepy ball on the bed.
“Husband,” Olivia blurted. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself married?”
Oh, sweet Olivia, never able to conceal a thought.
Emma flushed. “I have.”
Olivia eyed Heathfield speculatively. “He looks like a nice enough chap. Then I thought the same thing about Pembroke.”
Alexandra’s eyes slid closed in mortification. Dead. She would kill her sister. Still there was no need to assume that Emma or Heathfield knew anything about Nathan’s courtship and her subsequent scandal.
“I believe what my sister intended to say was congratulations.” Alexandra cast a longing glance through the doorway to the hideously cheery pink bedchambers.
Thankfully, Lord Heathfield was far more astute than the other two ladies present, for he took Emma by the arm and attempted to steer her away. “Come, Emma, Lady Alexandra and Lady Olivia have been traveling for some time and are assuredly in need of rest.”
Heaven bless him.
Emma dug her h
eels in. “We cannot leave her alone,” she protested, giving a very pointed look in Alexandra’s direction, “considering the Scandal and all,” she finished on a very loud whisper.
Alexandra’s eyes slid closed. “Oh, goodness, everyone knows already?”
Emma responded before Heathfield could answer. “Well, Heath and I know, of course, and Izzy. And Father and Mother.”
Ah, so yes, everyone knew.
Alexandra stared through the open doorway, unseeing, at the large bed at the center of the room. Her body’s need for sleep and the earlier pain of her muscles was all forgotten as reality intruded. Had she been foolish enough to believe she could escape the scandal at Danby Castle?
She swayed on her feet.
Heathfield gripped her arm. “Whoa,” he said in a steadying voice. He looked at his wife. “Perhaps you should help her inside and have her rest for a bit,” he suggested.
Emma looked at him as though he were a knight in shining armor.
“Go,” he urged.
Alexandra pushed her words out on a whisper. “I’m fine.” She didn’t even manage to convince herself of it, for Emma and Olivia took her by the arms and led Alexandra over to a ridiculously tiny wooden chair with pink floral upholstery.
Olivia trotted across the room to close the door.
Alexandra sat heavily and dropped her head into her hands. Thoughts of Nathan’s courtship, the time they’d spent together, and the poems he’d read flooded her. He’d made her fall in love with him so easily. What a fool she’d been. “What have I done?”
“After a rapid courtship by the Earl of Pembroke, who you fancied yourself in love with, you went and made an utter cake of yourself,” Olivia said dryly.
A snort of shocked laughter escaped Emma. She swatted her cousin on the arm. “Where is your sense of romance? He courted her. Took her sledding.”
“Skating,” Alexandra corrected.
“Waltzed with her,” Emma continued as though Alexandra hadn’t interjected. “She loved him.” She shot a look at Alexandra. “You did love him, right?”
Had she loved him? Each morning, she’d hopped out of bed, excited about rising because she knew she’d see him. When he’d partnered her in a set, she hadn’t worried over her clumsy feet because she knew he would always rescue her and guide her effortlessly through the set. Just then she could count more than fifty reasons she loved him. Had loved him.