THE LEGEND OF NIMWAY HALL: 1888 - ALEXANDRA

by Victoria Alexander

  She nodded. “We barely skimmed the surface at dinner. Magic and legend are part and parcel of the history here. Your mother will love that.” She choked back a laugh.

  “Are you making fun of a man’s devotion to his mother?”

  “No, not at all.” Her eyes widened innocently.

  He didn’t believe it for a minute. “My mother is the only thing that kept my brother and myself from becoming my father,” he said without thinking.

  She studied him curiously. “From what you’ve said about him, I gather you’re grateful for that.”

  “You have no idea.” He chuckled then paused. “It seems to me I’ve said quite a bit about my family, but you’ve said very little about yours.”

  “Nor do I see any need to.”

  “Well, if we’re going to be friends …”

  “Are we going to be friends?”

  He met her gaze firmly. “I hope so.”

  “Then I shall consider it,” she said primly, belying the amusement in her eyes. “Although I do think I’ve given you a great deal of information about my family as well as Nimway.”

  He scoffed. “You haven’t told me anything at all.”

  “Nonsense, Robert.” She thumped the stack of books in his arms. “I’ve given you centuries right here.” Alex smiled pleasantly. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Sleep well.” With that, she nodded and took her leave.

  “Good night, Alexandra.” His words trailed after her. Friends was certainly a beginning. And who knew where a friendship might lead?

  “Good day, Lord Brynmore,” Lady Penwood said brightly from her seat at the head of the dining room table.

  “Good morning, Lady P.” Robert smiled at the older woman.

  “A nickname, Robert?” The corners of Lady P’s lips quirked upward. “How very American of you.”

  “I am very American.” He glanced at Alex. The butler had directed him to the dining room while discreetly mentioning that Alex usually ate in the small breakfast room. But Lady Penwood had looked askance at this apparent breach of protocol and had overridden any protest on Alex’s part. Pearson was far too well trained to say more, but Robert understood his meaning. Men did have to look out for one another when navigating the treacherous waters of female territorial claims. “Good morning, Miss Hayden.”

  “My lord.” Alex smiled politely and nodded toward the sideboard, where a modest buffet was laid out. “Do help yourself.”

  “Thank you.” Robert escaped to the sideboard and filled a plate with coddled eggs, bacon, and ham. “I don’t mind saying I’m starving this morning.”

  “At most country houses I’ve visited, breakfast is served to diners,” Lady P noted under her breath.

  Robert winced.

  “We’re quite casual here at Nimway,” Alex said in a restrained tone.

  He suspected it took a great deal of self-control.

  “Well, dear, if your mother were here …” Lady P aimed a pointed look at Alex.

  “If my mother were here, Lady Penwood”—Alex refilled her cup from the ornate silver pitcher on the table—“we’d be in the breakfast room.”

  Lady P cast her a chastising look and turned to Robert. “I trust you slept well, my lord?”

  “As well as could be expected.” His gaze shot to Alex’s cup. “Is that coffee?”

  “Indeed it is.” This time her smile was genuine. “I quite like coffee.”

  “Excellent.” Robert sat down across the table from Alex. She poured him a cup and passed it to him. “I was afraid you’d only have tea. Nothing like a good cup of coffee to start the day.”

  “I prefer tea.” Lady P considered Robert. “‘As well as can be expected’ doesn’t sound particularly good.”

  “His lordship never sleeps well his first night in a new bed,” Alex offered then sipped her coffee.

  Lady P’s brow rose. “Oh?”

  “I ran into Miss Hayden last night in the library, and she was kind enough to recommend some books. I find reading often helps me get to sleep, don’t you agree, Lady P?”

  “Well, yes, I suppose,” the older lady murmured.

  “I must admit, Miss Hayden, while I thought The Flora and Fauna of Somerset was conducive to sleep, it was nothing compared to Modern Methods of Farming and Land Management. That book could put a dead man to sleep.”

  “I’m glad you found it helpful, my lord.” Laughter danced in Alex’s eyes.

  “I must say Alexandra doesn’t look as if she slept at all.” The older woman studied her closely. “Or perhaps you’re feeling ill?”

  “I’m quite well, thank you. I simply have a lot on my mind.”

  Lady P shook her head in a sympathetic manner. “Pity you don’t have a husband to bear some of the burdens of Nimway, my dear.” Lady P turned to Robert before Alex could say a word. Just as well given the look on Alex’s face. “I must agree with you, though, Robert. I, too, have difficulty sleeping in a new bed, although I do think the fresh country air makes an enormous difference. I must say I slept rather well.” She paused. “And I had the most interesting dreams.”

  “Dreams?” Alex and Robert asked in unison. He glanced at her. A blush washed up her face. And wasn’t that interesting?

  “Oh my, yes. Difficult to remember the details.” She thought for a moment. “All I can recall is the overwhelming sense of all being right with the world. As well as the urge to return home.” Her eyes widened. “I won’t, of course. You may count on that. I take my responsibilities very seriously.”

  Too bad. Robert had realized last night that this chaperone business was a terrible idea. Eminently proper and the right thing to do but terrible nonetheless. Lady Penwood took the whole thing entirely too seriously, and as long as she remained at Nimway, he wouldn’t have a moment alone with Alex. Not at all what he’d had in mind.

  “I’ve been having dreams myself,” Robert said casually. He glanced at Alex. She stared back. “For weeks now.”

  “Weeks?” Alex murmured, an odd, uneasy note in her voice.

  He nodded. “Ever since I first left Nimway.” And you.

  “Dreams can mean all sorts of things, you know. Why, they can not only reflect your current state of mind, but they can foretell the future as well.” Lady P’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Do tell, Robert. What are your dreams about?”

  “Like you, I can’t remember details, although I know I’m here at Nimway.” He sipped his coffee. “While specifics are vague, the overall feeling is one of great, oh, I don’t know. What is the word? Delight, I suppose. Yes, that’s it.” He glanced at Alex. “Unforgettable delight.”

  Alex choked.

  He shrugged. “I regretted waking up.”

  “Goodness.” Lady P’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward eagerly. “What a pity you can’t remember the details. What do you think it means?”

  “I have no idea.” Robert turned to Alex. “What do you think, Miss Hayden?”

  “I think dinner last night might have disagreed with you.” Alex’s gaze met his over the rim of her coffee cup.

  He smiled slowly.

  “In which case the dream would have been unpleasant.” Lady P waved away Alex’s comment. “And he did say he’s been having them for some time.”

  “Regardless, the very idea of dreams being able to foretell the future is as absurd as last night’s discussion of crystal balls.” A firm note rang in Alex’s voice, but there was a faint look of discomfort in her eyes.

  “And yet just last night, you were talking about crystal balls—”

  “Which was as silly a discussion as this one,” Alex said coolly. “Utter nonsense and nothing more significant than idle dinner table banter.”

  “Still, you did say Nimway was a place of magic.”

  Her gaze met his directly. “Do you believe in magic?”

  “I don’t disbelieve.” The moment he said the words, he couldn’t figure out why. It wasn’t what he had intended to say even if it was true.

  “I
do on occasion,” Lady P offered.

  Alex rose to her feet. “Well, I for one have more practical matters to see to. If you will excuse me, Lady Penwood, Lord Brynmore.”

  Robert stood. “And I have some correspondence to deal with. I was hoping to use the desk in the library this morning.”

  “Certainly.” Alex turned to leave. He had the distinct impression she couldn’t wait to make her escape.

  “I’m to meet Wilcox at Brynmore this afternoon,” he added. “I was hoping you could join us.”

  She hesitated. “I have errands to run this afternoon.”

  “Well, you are my consultant on matters pertaining to the house.”

  “Then I shall certainly be there.” A vague note of reluctance sounded in her voice.

  “I should very much like to see Brynmore for myself,” Lady P said brightly.

  The last thing he wanted was the chaperone joining them. This was his chance for some time alone with Alex. “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “What a wonderful idea.” Alex beamed at the older woman. “I suspect you’ll have all sorts of insightful suggestions about what should be done with the place.”

  “Well, my taste has always been remarked upon.” Lady P smiled modestly.

  “I’ve no doubt of it. That’s settled, then. You shall join us on our visit to Brynmore today.” Alex offered Robert a bright smile. “Unless Lord Brynmore has any objection.”

  “Nothing I can think of.” And wasn’t that a shame. “No reason at all why you shouldn’t join us, Lady P.” He paused. “Although the house is an unsightly mess at the moment.”

  “Nonsense.” Lady P waved off his comment. “It shall simply be an adventure.”

  “Won’t it, though.” Robert summoned a weak smile.

  “Goodness, discussion of dreams this morning, crystal balls last night, and today, we are off on an adventure.” Excitement rang in the older lady’s voice. “What a whimsical little group we are.”

  “Indeed we are. This afternoon, then. If you will both excuse me.” Alex nodded politely and immediately fled the room.

  And wasn’t that odd? But something had happened to Alex when he’d mentioned his dream. As if she knew they were dreams of her. Not that she could have known. And Lady P was having dreams as well. Given that, was it at all possible that Alex was dreaming as well? Was that part of the magic of Nimway?

  “I quite look forward to seeing your house, Robert.” Lady P swept past him. “And rest assured, I shall not act on my dreams and leave Nimway. Not when you and Miss Hayden obviously need me.

  “And do try to remember, dear boy, that I’m old, not dead.” She scoffed and continued on her way, adding over her shoulder, “I know full well the meaning of unforgettable delight.”

  Chapter 9

  Dreams? Good God! The man was having dreams?

  Alex sped through the conservatory and out the door leading to the back gardens, noting several additional cracked panes of glass that needed repair, and headed toward the lake on the grounds just north of the house. There was no other place at Nimway quite as conducive to serious thought as the lake.

  He was having dreams? She was having dreams? What on earth did that mean?

  She drew a calming breath, and her step slowed. It probably meant nothing at all. She was simply startled by his revelation. Yes, that was it. Why, wasn’t Lady Penwood having dreams as well? When one thought about it rationally, this sort of thing was probably to be expected when people’s ordinary lives were disrupted by travel or staying in a new place or any number of circumstances.

  Which didn’t explain Alex’s own dreams. She was exactly where she always was. She reached the lake and skirted along the shore to her favorite spot—the spot she had claimed as her own when she first stumbled upon it as a girl. The small cove with its large boulders overhanging the lake, half hidden by the sweeping branches of willow trees, was special, a sanctuary and a place of magic—at least in her own mind. As a child, she had been convinced that if she stared out at the placid water long enough, she would be able to see water nymphs and fairies dancing over the glassy surface. To this day, she wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t on occasion glimpsed those magical creatures, although admittedly, it had always been when she’d dozed on a perfect summer afternoon. And even if Nimway’s magic had vanished, the serenity and peace of this secret spot always soothed her mind and eased her soul.

  She pulled off her shoes and stockings then settled in the curve of the concave boulder and dangled her feet just above the water. From the first moment she’d spotted the large rock, she’d been convinced it was a throne carved by the ages—Merlin and Nimue’s throne—big enough for both to share, as it should be, and now expressly for her. And wasn’t there an ancient crack toward the top of the back face that looked suspiciously like an A? Obviously the A stood for Alexandra. There was as well something here that had always comforted her. Even more than the house itself, this was where she felt the presence of all those daughters of Nimue who had gone before her—felt their wisdom and strength and courage. She used to attribute that to Nimway magic. Now it was simply the serenity of nature and the comfort of history. She breathed deep and let the peace of the place wash over her. Within moments, her nerves had calmed, and rational thought returned.

  It wasn’t so much that Robert had dreamed as the look in his eyes when he talked about those dreams. Unforgettable delight? What utter nonsense. Still, if she didn’t know better, she’d think his dreams were very similar to hers. It was ridiculous, of course. The idea that he was having the same sort of dreams she had—about improper, erotic, passionate encounters—was at once concerning and a tiny bit exciting. And absurd. Regardless, there was no way to find out if his dreams were like hers without bringing up the subject, which might lead to all sorts of things she preferred to avoid. And really, couldn’t her dreams be attributed to the simple fact that not only were there no potential suitors in sight, but she didn’t especially want one? The last thing she needed was involvement with yet another man. Especially this one. Given how often the blasted American lingered in her mind, he was no doubt far more dangerous than Philip or George or even Julian. At least to her heart. After Julian, she’d vowed not to fall in love again. Her heart as well as her pride had been battered enough, thank you very much.

  No, the best course was to keep her relationship with Robert businesslike. A cordial friendship was appropriate as well but nothing beyond that. She would keep her distance as much as possible. There would be no more late-night meetings in the library. Other than the time spent with him at Brynmore and meals, of course, she would avoid the man while still managing to be a gracious hostess. Yes, that was a plan. Alex liked plans almost as much as she liked lists.

  She gazed out at the lake and ignored the laughing voice in the back of her head murmuring, “The best-laid plans …”

  Keeping Robert at arm’s length was not as easy as Alex had thought it would be. In spite of her efforts, his lordship was slowly but surely working his way into her … not her affections exactly but her life. It had been five weeks since she’d vowed on the shores of the lake to limit their relationship to business and polite friendship. Both were becoming more and more difficult.

  It wouldn’t be a problem at all if the blasted American wasn’t so, well, nice. He was thoughtful in regards to those who worked for him as well as the remaining Nimway staff, never making demands but rather requests. Pearson appeared to approve of him, and the females at Nimway—Millie, Mrs. Hopkins, and Mrs. Lamb—adored him, and they were not especially fond of men in general. He had a natural wit and effortless charm that were only enhanced by his dashing good looks. A day didn’t go by that he didn’t make some astute observation or wry comment that would have her and Lady Penwood laughing with far more enthusiasm than Lady Penwood deemed appropriate for a well-bred lady, although she conceded that, since they were in the country, allowances could be made. He was, as well, considerate and kind. When Lady Penwood had remar
ked that she was missing her friends and family, Robert had insisted on accompanying her back to London. They’d been gone a full week and were expected back any minute.

  Work at Brynmore Manor was progressing slower than she would have imagined, not that she was complaining. Already, Robert’s money had allowed her to repay her loans and pay her taxes. And for the first time in a long time, Alex had started prioritizing necessary repairs with the prospect of actually having them done. Repairs that went well beyond mere cosmetic improvements. With every storm, there was a new leak in the roof, and it moved closer to the top of her list. The longer the reconstruction of Brynmore took, the better off her own finances became.

  Brian insisted Brynmore was coming along well. Given the state of disrepair, much of the building had to be torn apart before it could be put back together, which made no sense to her at all. Why not simply build on what was there? Both Brian and Robert had explained to her—in that annoyingly patient manner men tended to have when speaking to a woman who could not possibly understand the finer points of something as masculine as construction—that in order to be certain the house was stable and sound and would stand into the future, the framing and supports and all sorts of heretofore unknown other things needed to be examined and reinforced. The house had to be gutted before it could be rebuilt. She accompanied Robert to Brynmore several times a week, although at this point, there was little for her to do. Still, he was paying her for her opinion, and she was more than willing to offer it. Lady Penwood frequently accompanied them, which was fine with Alex, although Robert wasn’t quite as pleased.

  Nimway itself was more alive than it had been in months. She didn’t yet have the resources to rehire the gardener completely, but she did have enough to employ him for a few days to clean up the gardens, and the grounds were much improved. Lady Penwood had somehow made the acquaintance of other ladies of a similar age in the county, and once a week, they joined her for an endless afternoon of whist and elderberry wine. At first, Robert had met with his employees and business associates in from London at the inn in the village, but it was entirely too small and inconvenient. Alex now allowed Robert the use of the large downstairs parlor for such meetings, which did tend to take most of the day. Aside from those who worked for Robert, the number of people coming all the way to Somerset to seek his advice or engage him in some sort of business opportunity was significant. And if he wasn’t occupied by meetings, he was engaged in correspondence and whatever else a captain of American industry did, assisted by his secretary, Mr. Hamill, who had taken up temporary residence at the inn in the village. She’d also granted Robert use of the library, and he had claimed it as surely as if he had planted his flag in new territory. It was almost as amusing as it was annoying. The man was far more intelligent than she had expected, as well as accomplished and respected. And most impressive.