THE LEGEND OF NIMWAY HALL: 1888 - ALEXANDRA

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THE LEGEND OF NIMWAY HALL: 1888 - ALEXANDRA Page 7

by Victoria Alexander


  “I do. Mr. Wilcox is an expert carpenter and well acquainted with local men who have the skills you need for this.”

  “Excellent. I’ll contact him tomorrow.”

  “I would suggest hiring some of my tenants as well. They’re hard workers and not unskilled in matters of repair.” And they could use the money.

  “Another good idea. I knew we would work well together.”

  “That, my lord, remains to be seen.”

  He laughed.

  She turned toward him. “Am I really that amusing, or are you simply easily amused?”

  “Both.” He grinned, and they started off.

  They rode in a companionable silence, for which she was grateful. She had a great deal to think about.

  The man who had dominated her dreams in recent weeks was now going to be under her roof. It was entirely possible she would no longer dream of him now that he had returned. Although it was just as likely the dreams would continue. It scarcely mattered. She was not going to be influenced by anything that occurred while she was asleep.

  A quarter of an hour later, they reached Nimway, and he helped her dismount. “I should be back no later than early evening.”

  “Then I’ll tell my cook to expect you for dinner, my lord.”

  “On one condition.”

  “A condition for dinner?” She frowned.

  “A favor, then.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Another one?”

  “Please stop calling me ‘my lord.’”

  Alex widened her eyes. “You’re Viscount Brynmore. It’s only proper to address you as ‘my lord.’”

  “Regardless of this title, I am still an American. Being called ‘my lord’ all the time makes me feel like I’m pretending to be someone I’m not. And when you say it, there’s the slightest edge of sarcasm in your voice that says the same thing.”

  “Nonsense.” She scoffed, although he might be right. “Even if there was, I assure you it’s not intentional.”

  “Besides, I’m going to reside here, we’re going to work together, and eventually, we will be neighbors.” He smiled in an utterly appealing way, with those delightful dimples and those crystal-blue eyes that would have melted the heart of a more susceptible woman. “I would hope that we could be friends.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “So let’s dispense with ‘my lord’ this and ‘my lord’ that. I would much prefer Mr. Curtis. Better yet, Robert.” He took a step toward her. “And may I call you Alex?”

  “Only my family calls me Alex.” She really should meet the man halfway. After all, he was giving her the means to ease her financial problems. For that alone, he deserved a cordial relationship. “You may call me Alexandra.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “I shall see you at dinner, then.” He nodded and fairly leapt into his saddle.

  She did have to admit, the man looked good on a horse, not that she cared. It was simply a fact worth noting. Her thoughts strayed to what she might wear for dinner. Life was relatively casual at Nimway, especially when her parents weren’t in residence, and it had been some time since she’d dressed for dinner. Since she’d had a reason to dress for dinner. Not that his lordship—Robert—was a reason. But he was a guest at Nimway, and he would be her neighbor. The least she could do to welcome him to her home was to appear appropriately dressed.

  It was, after all, the hospitable thing to do. There was nothing more to it than that.

  Chapter 7

  Robert adjusted his tie in the mirror and decided he would do. He had considered bringing along a valet, but he was already bringing one unexpected guest, and who knew how Alex would react to that. Even if it was in her best interests. He well might be overdressed for dinner, but in his experience, too much was always better than not enough. One less thing for the Dragon of Nimway Hall to hold against him.

  It was obvious she didn’t particularly like him, which only made him more determined to win her friendship. It really made no sense. Women nearly always liked him, usually with a great deal of enthusiasm. Oh, certainly he wanted to buy her ancestral home. And he had looked into her finances, which might have been considered an invasion of her privacy but was to be expected. At least, he would have expected it. It was business, after all. Obviously, Alex did not agree. With any luck, while in the process of restoring Brynmore, she would get to know and then like him. He had no idea why that was so important to him, but it was. Besides, it was always a good idea to get along with one’s neighbors. Yes, that was probably it. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with the dreams he’d been having about her.

  When he’d returned to the village this afternoon, he’d spoken with Wilcox, who was willing to take on the job of managing the work at Brynmore. Robert’s expertise was more in the buying and selling of property than in construction. While he intended to visit the estate daily, he couldn’t be there every minute and needed someone trustworthy to oversee the work. If Alex said Wilcox was a good man, then Robert had no doubt he was.

  She’d asked him why he was so determined to bring Brynmore back to life, and his answer was accurate as far as it went. In truth, he really wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to restore his father’s ancestral estate. It certainly wasn’t a business decision. The investment would far outweigh the gain. But this wasn’t business—this was personal. He couldn’t remember the last time—if ever—he had taken on any kind of project for reasons he couldn’t clarify even for himself. That, too, made no sense.

  He gave a nod to the mirror and started for the parlor. The butler—Mr. Pearson—had said they would gather in the parlor before dinner. Robert had arrived back at Nimway less than an hour ago and was banking on the fact that since there was barely a handful of servants in the place, they would all be busy attending to dinner. He preferred that Alex learn from him that he was not alone rather than from her butler. In Robert’s experience, it was much better to ask forgiveness than permission.

  She’d said he could call her Alexandra, but he couldn’t stop thinking of her as Alex. It suited her far more than Alexandra. Alexandra was formal and superior and aristocratic. Alex was strong and determined and stubborn. Alexandra was a fitting name for a dragon. Alex was the woman in his dreams. Calling her by the wrong name wasn’t the only mistake he could make at Nimway.

  He strode into the parlor and pulled up short. Alex stood gazing out the window overlooking the west lawns and the woods beyond. The final rays of sunset bathed her in shades of gold and pink, deepening the rose color of her gown and casting a halo of light around her hair. Even a goddess would pale in comparison to this magnificent dragon, an ethereal creature of light and magic. She turned her head at his approach, and the setting sun caught flecks of gold in her eyes. The fire of the dragon. His stomach tightened. What had he gotten himself into?

  “Good evening, Robert,” she said politely. “Did you accomplish what you needed to in the village?”

  “Yes.” He fairly croaked the word and cleared his throat. This was absurd. She was neither a dragon nor a goddess, merely a beautiful woman. “I managed to get a lot done.” He crossed the room and took her hand before raising it to his lips and locking his gaze with hers. “And might I say how lovely you look tonight.”

  “Goodness, Robert.” She smiled, the smile of a woman who knew she looked her best but was pleased to hear it nonetheless. “I’ve agreed to allow you to stay at Nimway as well as assist in your rebuilding efforts. Unnecessary compliments are not expected.”

  “You should know, Alexandra, I’ve never given a compliment because it was expected. Although I doubt I’ve ever met a beautiful woman who didn’t expect it.” He didn’t release her hand, noting with some satisfaction that she didn’t pull away. “And I assure you, it was absolutely necessary.”

  She tilted her head and studied him. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “Not at all.” He scoffed.

  “Because ours is strictly a business arrangement.”

&nbs
p; “As well as one of friendship, I hope.”

  “My friends do not flirt with me.”

  “Then you have foolish friends.” He gazed into her green eyes, and for the longest moment, the world stopped spinning. He could lose himself in those eyes and go to his maker a happy man.

  “Oh good, you’re here. I was afraid I’d be late.”

  Alex’s gaze snapped to the older woman entering the parlor, and she yanked her hand from his. Robert winced. He’d thought he had a few more minutes.

  “You must be Miss Hayden. My goodness, you’re lovely.”

  “Thank you.” Confusion rang in Alex’s voice. “And you are?”

  “Forgive me,” Robert said quickly. “Allow me to introduce you. This is Lady Phoebe Penwood. Lady Phoebe—”

  “No, Robert dear.” The older lady heaved a frustrated sigh. “We went over this on the train. I am the Dowager Countess of Penwood. I am properly introduced as the Dowager Countess of Penwood or Countess Dowager Penwood, although once introductions are out of the way, I may be referred to as Lady Penwood.” She pinned him with an unyielding look, and Robert realized Alex was no longer the only dragon in the house. “I am never, never called Lady Phoebe Penwood and certainly never Lady Phoebe.”

  Robert grimaced. “Sorry.”

  “You’ll learn. Titles are terribly confusing and make no sense, really.” She glanced at Alex. “They’re dreadfully old-fashioned when one thinks about it. As much as I hate to say it, I suspect they won’t mean anything at all sometime in the not-too-distant future. The world is changing whether we like it or not. And we do need to change with it. Don’t you agree?”

  Shock colored Alex’s face. “I really haven’t given it any particular thought.”

  “It’s neither here nor there at the moment, I suppose. These are the sorts of things one starts to consider when one has granddaughters and grandnieces who are shockingly progressive. I’m not sure if they’ve been a terrible influence on me or have had a remarkable effect. Regardless, they have made me look at the world in a different light, although I do think there are certain standards that should remain unchanged. And propriety will never be out of fashion. A discussion for another time, I suppose.” Lady Penwood sailed across the room and took Alex’s hands in hers. “I’m delighted to meet you, Miss Hayden. I was great friends with your grandmother.” She paused. “Or perhaps it was your great-grandmother. One tends to lose track when one starts adding ‘great’ to everything.”

  “Does one?” Alex asked weakly.

  “Oh my, yes.” Lady Penwood glanced around the room. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to be back at Nimway. I was a guest here once when I was a girl. I must say, I was delighted when Robert asked me to join you.” She leaned closer to Alex and lowered her voice, but as Robert had learned on the endless train ride from London, her hearing was not what it once was, and her idea of speaking softly was what the rest of the world considered normal. “You needn’t worry about anything, my dear. I do understand the difficulties inherent in being a young woman living without the presence of family. You may rest assured I will allow nothing untoward to happen under my watch.”

  “I … don’t doubt that.” Alex gently pulled her hands free. “Do sit down. I’m sure you’ve had a stressful day. We’ll be going in to dinner in a minute.” She turned to Robert. “Lord Brynmore, I’d like a word with you in the hall.”

  “Yes, I thought you might,” Robert said with a weak smile.

  “Excuse us, Lady Penwood.”

  “Of course.” The elderly lady’s brow furrowed. “Only a minute, mind you.”

  “I’m not sure it will take that long.” Alex strolled out of the room in an easy manner, but the set of her shoulders was far from relaxed. The moment she closed the parlor doors behind them, she turned to him. “Who is that?”

  “Lady Penwood. I introduced you.”

  Alex’s eyes narrowed.

  “She’s the aunt of a good friend of mine, Miles Kenton. Lord Kenton, actually.”

  “Why is she here?”

  “That’s an interesting story.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “I doubt it.”

  “Perhaps it’s not interesting, but it does paint me in an excellent light.”

  She scoffed. “I doubt that too.”

  “I was made aware that my staying in your house without an appropriate chaperone might be detrimental to your future. So Miles—Lord Kenton—loaned me his aunt.”

  “Loaned you?”

  “Well, I do have to return her.”

  She ignored him. “I barely have enough servants to take care of the two of us.”

  “She’ll be no problem. She brought her own maid.”

  “Yet another mouth to feed.”

  “You do have more than enough room here, and of course, I will increase your weekly compensation.”

  “Considerably.”

  “Come now, Alexandra. I’m already paying you far more than I would be charged at the inn.”

  “I am not an inn. I believe we have already established that.” She frowned. “Are there any other unexpected guests you intend to surprise me with?”

  “None that come to mind.”

  “You cannot invite someone to stay in someone else’s home without asking.” Alex’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “I imagine even in America, that would be considered both rude and outrageous.”

  “You’re absolutely right, and for that, I am truly sorry. I was simply eager to get started, and I didn’t want to waste a minute. Did I mention my lack of patience?”

  “One of your many flaws.” She rolled her gaze toward the ceiling. “You were confident I would allow you to stay here, weren’t you?”

  “I was … hopeful.” He really hadn’t been the least bit confident, but he suspected if he had gone to London to fetch Lady Penwood, he would return to find Alex had changed her mind about letting him stay at all. “I had planned to throw myself on your mercy if necessary.”

  She studied him for a long moment then sighed. “Arranging for Lady Penwood to stay here was surprisingly thoughtful of you.”

  “I know.” He grinned, and relief washed through him. As soon as Miles had pointed out the impropriety of Robert staying at Nimway without a proper chaperone, he knew he had no choice but to find someone suitable. He would hate to put Alex in a scandalous position. The English took that sort of thing far more seriously than Americans. Although, a similar situation would probably cause gossip at home too.

  “You do realize your arrogance tends to negate the thoughtfulness of your actions.”

  “It does, doesn’t it.” He heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “It’s yet another flaw in my character that I cannot seem to overcome.”

  “You shall have to work on it,” she said primly, but there was a definite spark of amusement in her eyes.

  “Perhaps you could give me instructions on that while I’m here.”

  “On what? Cultivating humility and modesty in place of arrogance?” She laughed, and it tugged quite oddly at something in the vicinity of his heart. “Goodness, Robert. You already have one nearly impossible project on your plate. It wouldn’t be the least bit wise of you to add another.”

  “… and after that,” Lady Penwood continued, “Lady Steadwell insisted the proper thing to do would be to ignore the situation altogether, although the rest of us agreed we couldn’t possibly. Why, it was such a public …”

  They weren’t even halfway through dinner when Robert realized he had again misread that telltale gleam of amusement in Miles’s eyes when he’d suggested his aunt as a chaperone. Lady Penwood never stopped talking. Robert hadn’t noticed on the train, but then she’d sat next to her maid and had read or dozed most of the way. Miles said she was in her sixties, and one wouldn’t think a woman of that age would have quite so much to talk about, most of it not especially interesting. But apparently talking—or rather gossiping—with like-minded women was how she spent most of her time.

 
; The first course, she filled with tales of her family, her sons, and her respective daughters-in-law, whom she seemed satisfied with although it did appear the ladies all had a considerable number of flaws. With the fish course came reminiscences of her late husband, dear departed Neville, and their life together, which drifted to talk of her home in the country and the necessity of having a well-maintained dower house because, really, who wanted their mother-in-law in the same house? From there, the discussion turned to the history and legends surrounding Nimway Hall and Somerset. He had no idea how the change of subject happened, but it was far more interesting than Lady Penwood’s endless chatter.

  Watching Alex talk about her home with her eyes glowing and her voice animated was nothing short of bewitching. In spite of his mother, while he’d always found tales of magic amusing, he’d never really believed. No, the spell Alex was weaving over him had nothing to do with legendary magic.

  “And really, I’m not sure how one avoids utter disaster at that point …”

  The discussion of Nimway was short-lived, and again, Lady Penwood turned to the comings and goings of society. This was gossip in its purest form—only a handful of people away from the subjects. Lady Penwood was almost as good as his mother. Robert never engaged in gossip himself, but he knew from experience that one might always pick up a random piece of information that might prove useful. He bit back a grin. Lady Penwood was his mother with an English accent.

  “It’s not as if one can turn the clock back and undo one’s actions. Although that would be lovely. I don’t mind admitting there are all sorts of, oh, mistakes I have made through the years that I would prefer I hadn’t.” Lady Penwood addressed Alex. “What do you think, Alexandra? Wouldn’t that be convenient? Undoing one’s mistakes?”

  “Yes, I suppose it would.” Alex sipped her wine.

  “I think it’s an excellent idea, Lady Penwood.” Robert raised his glass to the older woman. “I don’t mind saying I, too, have made mistakes I’d prefer not to have made.”

  “But we learn from our mistakes, my lord,” Alex said. Apparently, in the presence of Lady Penwood, they were back to being my lord and Miss Hayden. “Or at least we should. For good or ill, I suspect they make us who we are.”

 

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