The table in the library was now covered with plans and drawings—hers and Robert’s— and in spite of her self-imposed edict not to spend time at night in the library alone with him, nearly every evening after dinner, they perused the plans, frequently making a change here and an adjustment there. It was those moments that Alex considered most dangerous, just the two of them in the shadowed library with only the silent presence of Shakespeare and Milton, Byron and Keats to witness their presence. His dark head bowed over the drawings next to hers, the scent of him—of spice and man and adventures as yet undreamed of—wrapping around her soul. And if on occasion his hand would brush hers or his shoulder press against her own, she firmly ignored the sharp sense of awareness that increased with those inadvertent touches. Or at least she tried.
Still, aside from a bit of flirtatious banter aimed equally at Lady Penwood and herself, Robert had never been anything but a perfect gentleman, which was oddly annoying. A result, no doubt, of those damnable dreams. With every passing night, the blasted things were more intense and, well, real, as though she and Robert were having an illicit tryst in some mystical place made of nothing but unyielding desire and sheer sensation. And even when she awoke it wasn’t the least bit easy to ignore the lingering feel of his fingers caressing her derriere, his lips whispering against her breasts, and the sweet aching need between her legs. As much as she would prefer to deny it, they were indeed dreams of unforgettable delight.
Not that it mattered. Any of it. They were merely dreams and no more significant than any others she’d had in her life, although she couldn’t remember ever having any even remotely like these. She’d never dreamt about Philip or George or Julian, and she’d been prepared to marry them. She certainly didn’t want or need anything more than the casual friendship she and Robert had formed thus far. And hadn’t she spent the last week telling herself that very thing?
Alex peered out the parlor window for the dozenth or so time to check the front drive for Brian’s carriage bringing Robert and Lady Penwood back to Nimway. Unless their train was terribly late or there had been difficulties with the ride from Glastonbury, they would be arriving any minute now, and Alex’s patience had worn thin. When Robert had suggested accompanying the older woman on her trip to London, Alex had thought it a grand idea. After all, she was used to being alone, and life at Nimway could return to normal. Why, there were all sorts of tasks she could accomplish while her guests were away. And while she had managed very nearly everything on this week’s list, the week itself had dragged on at an interminable rate. She hadn’t so much as suspected she would miss him. And Lady Penwood as well, of course.
It was rather a shock when Alex realized she’d been too busy savoring her independence and struggling in her position as guardian to see how very alone she’d become. But the house was empty without him—without them—and Alex couldn’t wait until their return. She refused to dwell on what would happen once Brynmore was completed, Lady Penwood returned to London, and Robert moved to his family home. Or when he might leave England altogether. His plans for Brynmore did not include permanent residence.
At long last, she heard the sound of a carriage coming up the drive but resisted the urge to run outside. While she might well have missed him—missed them—she wasn’t at all sure she wished Robert to know that. It would go straight to his head. He would read all sorts of things into an admission like that.
Still, it would be rude not to greet her guests at the door.
Alex stepped outside just as Robert was helping Lady Penwood out of the carriage while Brian assisted Pearson with the luggage. Robert glanced up at her on the front steps. Her breath caught, and her heart fluttered in the oddest way. His gazed locked with hers, and he grinned that unrelentingly American grin of his.
“Good day, Alexandra.” Lady Penwood stepped up to the door, her gaze raking over Alex as if looking for flaws or faults. Admittedly, Alex had taken a few more pains with her appearance today than she usually did.
Alex beamed at the older woman. “Welcome back, Lady Penwood. I’ve missed you.”
Lady Penwood’s expression softened. “I’ve missed you as well, my dear girl.” She leaned closer. “I don’t mind telling you the peace and serenity of Nimway will be a welcome respite after the chaos of London.”
Alex widened her eyes. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?”
“Oh, I had a grand time.” Lady Penwood glanced around. “But I found I missed the tranquility of country living. I never imagined such a thing.” She shook her head and continued into the house. “I’ve always preferred the city.”
“Good day, Miss Hayden.” Robert took her hand and brought it to his lips, his gaze never veering from hers.
“Good day, my lord,” she said with a cordial smile. Dear God, was the man more attractive than he’d been a mere week ago? Was his smile more compelling? His lips more inviting? And surely he wasn’t this tall? “Did you have a pleasant stay in London?”
“Pleasant enough. There were all sorts of matters that needed my attention, but the London office is running smoothly.” He lowered his voice, her hand still in his, his gaze still locked with hers. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn her heart beat faster. “I have missed you, Alex.”
“Alexandra,” she murmured then cleared her throat and reluctantly pulled her hand from his. “Welcome back.”
“It’s good to be back.” He grinned. “I have to admit I was a little disappointed when we drove up and you weren’t working in the garden.”
“I’m certain you’ll survive.” She glanced with satisfaction at the now tidy flower bed in front of the drive. “There’s nothing more important than a good first impression, you know.”
“I do know.” He studied her for a moment as if he couldn’t look at her enough. It was at once flattering and disquieting.
“Wilcox picked up your post for you.” He pulled a letter from his pocket and handed it to her. “He says work at Brynmore is going well.”
“It appears to be. I’ve been there several times in your absence.”
“I’m eager to see how things are progressing.” He nodded toward the carriage. “Wilcox and I are going to drive over, and he’ll fill me in. I’ll be back by dinner.”
“Now?” An unguarded note of disappointment sounded in her voice.
“No time like the present.”
“But it’s time for tea.” What a stupid thing to say. And didn’t she sound the tiniest bit pathetic? Or lonely?
“You know I’m not overly fond of tea.” His grin widened. “You just don’t want me to leave. Why, Miss Hayden, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you missed me.”
She sniffed and raised her chin. “Then it’s fortunate that you do know better.”
He laughed. “I won’t be gone long.”
“It scarcely matters to me how long you’re gone.” She shrugged in an offhand manner.
He leaned closer. “One of the things I like about you, Alex, is that you’re a terrible liar.”
“Alexandra,” she snapped.
He laughed again then bounded down the steps and joined Brian in the carriage, casting her a jaunty wave.
As much as she tried, she couldn’t help smiling as the carriage rolled off. The blasted man made her smile. And laugh. It was good to have him back where he belonged.
Where he belonged? Where on earth had that thought come from? Where he belonged for the moment, perhaps, but that was it. She didn’t want or need anything more than the casual friendship they now shared. Certainly, she’d missed him, but as no more than a friend, a companion. And no more than she’d missed Lady Penwood. Back where he belonged, indeed.
She glanced at the envelope in her hand, recognizing her mother’s writing. Where were her parents at the moment? The last she had heard, they were traveling through Switzerland. She tore open the envelope.
“Beg pardon, miss.” Pearson inclined his head toward the house. “Lady Penwood is waiting for you in the parlor.
For tea, miss?”
“Yes, of course.” Mother’s travel adventures could wait. Alex slipped the envelope into the pocket of her favorite day dress, the one that made her eyes look just a bit greener and her skin glow. Even better, it had pockets. She blew a resigned breath and hurried to the parlor. A moment later, Pearson wheeled in the tea tray.
Alex settled on the sofa and poured the tea. “How was your holiday?”
“Quite nice.” Lady Penwood glanced around the room. “Oddly enough, I did miss Nimway. I had no idea I’d become so attached.”
“Nimway has been known to have that effect on people.”
Lady Penwood frowned thoughtfully. “It must be the fresh country air.”
Alex bit back a smile. “Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
“Although I must say it was good to be back in London. I can’t tell you all the friends I ran into,” Lady Penwood began and launched into a recitation of who she had seen and what she had done and, of course, the latest gossip. For the next quarter hour, she barely stopped long enough to take a breath, which suited Alex, as all that was required of her was an occasional nod and an appropriately murmured “Really?” or “How very interesting.” She did try very hard to keep her mind on what Lady Penwood was droning on about and not let her thoughts wander to her other houseguest, now annoyingly absent.
“… and my word, the rumors swirling about his lordship.”
“What?” Alex’s thoughts snapped back to the dowager. “Who?”
“Why, our dear Robert, of course. Lord Brynmore is the topic of a great deal of gossip and speculation,” Lady Penwood said with a smug smile as if she knew she now had Alex’s complete attention.
“Is he?”
Lady Penwood’s brow rose. “Surely you’re not surprised?”
“I really hadn’t given it any consideration one way or the other.” Alex paused. “What exactly is being said about him?”
“You know, the usual sort of thing.” Lady Penwood took a bite of one of Mrs. Lamb’s excellent shortbread biscuits and gave a small moan of appreciation. “Oh, I did miss these. I wonder if your Mrs. Lamb would ever consider taking up residence in London …”
“She hates London,” Alex said quickly. It was not above Lady Penwood to try to poach Alex’s cook. She forced a smile. “Some of us are just more content in the country.”
“Are you?”
Alex started. “I’ve never really given it much thought. I do enjoy visiting London, but Nimway is my home. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”
“Hmm.” Lady Penwood took another bite and studied her thoughtfully. “Robert seemed quite at home in London, but then New York is rather a large city in its own right, as I understand.”
“So I hear. But you’re changing the subject.” Alex adopted her most curious tone. “You simply must tell me the gossip about Lord Brynmore. I’m dying to know what you’ve heard.”
“There’s always gossip about handsome, rich, eligible men with titles. Given that until recently, no one even knew he existed, well, everyone is talking about him.”
“Are they?”
“Oh my, yes. And as I know him, everywhere I went, I was pumped for information. Most of it about why he isn’t married and who I think might suit him and that sort of thing.” Lady Penwood finished her biscuit and picked up her cup. “There is a great deal of speculation about which eligible young miss will ultimately catch his eye. You’d be surprised how many possibilities there are, all eager and willing to be the next Lady Brynmore. His name has been linked with any number of appropriate young ladies. People are actually wagering on the prospects. I myself wagered a tidy amount, although discretion dictates I keep the name to myself.” She smirked and sipped her tea. “Robert didn’t seem particularly averse to any of them. The man is exceptionally charming, you know.”
“You saw him in London, then?” Alex asked casually, as if she didn’t care one way or the other, as of course she didn’t.
“I ran into him at Lady Tilden’s summer ball. It’s quite the social event, in spite of the time of year. Why, even people who have left the city for the summer return from the country just to attend. I try never to miss it.”
“And Lord Brynmore was there?” Alex prompted. She did wish the woman would get on with it.
“Oh my, yes. The man was never without a partner and appeared to me to be enjoying himself immensely.” She thought for a moment. “Given my observation, there are at least three young women who could be the future Lady Brynmore. At least three he seemed particularly taken with. Why, I introduced him to one myself, the granddaughter of a dear friend. I could be wrong, I suppose. You know what a flirt our Robert is.”
“Indeed I do,” Alex said coolly, trying and failing to ignore an immediate and completely illogical surge of annoyance.
“An appropriate wife would serve him well. London society is an extraordinarily difficult fortress to breach even when one has wealth and a title.”
“Indeed,” Alex murmured absently. Why on earth she would find Lady Penwood’s gossip irritating was beyond her. She had no claim on Robert whatsoever. Nor did she want one. Her response was completely irrational and utterly absurd.
“I understand the world of London business is not substantially easier. A wife from a good family would ease Robert’s way.”
Even so, she’d been all alone at Nimway and, in spite of her best efforts, had found herself thinking about him in passing, missing him now and then and, blast it all, dreaming about him while he was off dancing and flirting and selecting a future wife. How could he? How dare he?
“Alexandra?”
Alex’s gaze jerked to Lady Penwood. “Yes?”
“I said the right wife from a respected English family would be just the thing to vanquish the difficulty inherent in his being American.” Lady Penwood nodded firmly. “And I said as much to him.”
“Did you?”
“I also offered to lend whatever assistance he might need in his quest for the perfect bride.”
Alex chose her words with care, shoving aside a sharp stab of what was apparently jealousy. “So he is looking for a wife?”
“Don’t be silly. Men rarely realize they are looking for a wife.” She smiled in a decidedly wicked manner. “I simply put the idea in his head.”
“I see.”
The older woman studied her for a long, thoughtful moment. “And how are things here at Nimway?” she asked at last.
“Quite well,” Alex said and launched into a recitation of life at Nimway, what she had managed to accomplish in their absence, and the progress at Brynmore Manor.
By the time Lady Penwood had decided she needed a bit of rest after the long day of travel and retired to her room, Alex had nearly forgotten about the letter from her mother. Now she pulled it out and read the missive.
Her stomach lurched.
Mother and Father were coming home. To Nimway.
A heavy weight thudded in the pit of her stomach, and she sank down onto the sofa.
According to Mother’s letter, her parents were currently in Vienna and planned to wander through Switzerland and Bavaria for a few weeks but expected to be back in England by mid-September, no later than the eighteenth. Mother was apparently longing for Nimway—it had been nearly two years, after all—and autumn had always been her favorite time of year. Alex skimmed the rest of the letter filled with travel observations and affectionate comments about Father’s inability to understand train schedules. None of it penetrated the sheer panic gripping Alex.
Good God, it was already late July! Mother would be here in no more than eight weeks. And she would surely notice the lack of staff, the peeling paint in the bedrooms, the water stains on the ceilings, the barely standing stables and outbuildings and, dear Lord, the roof. She’d realize at once that Nimway’s magic had vanished and it was entirely Alex’s fault. Mother would know what Alex already knew—her only child was a complete and utter failure and not worthy of being the Guardian of N
imway Hall.
Mother would be kind about it all. There would be no harsh words or accusations. Certainly there would be some chastisement, to be expected and well deserved. Worst of all would be that awful look of disappointment in her eyes. Mother had trusted Alex to be the guardian, had placed in her hands the sacred charge passed from mother to daughter through the ages. And Alex had failed. There was no mention in the family chronicles of any guardian failing Nimway. Ever. Alex would be the first. She wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Would Mother remove Alex as guardian? There was no record of a guardian’s position being rescinded, but there was nothing that prohibited it either.
She rose to her feet and paced the room, wringing her hands in front of her. Panic wouldn’t solve anything. She was the Guardian of Nimway Hall, and guardians did not throw up their hands in surrender and run screaming into the night. No, guardians did what needed to be done. She closed her eyes and breathed in a deep breath, and a measure of calm washed over her. What she needed was a plan.
No.
What she needed was money. She strode to the parlor window and stared at the drive and Balesboro Woods beyond. She could sell some of the land, although it would be like ripping her very heart out. Nimway was not meant to be parceled off. Besides, she needed money immediately, and the sale of property would take far more time than she had. No, if she was going to set Nimway to right, she needed to begin immediately. There were items around the house she had already considered selling, but that too would take time she didn’t have. She could borrow money again, perhaps, but she’d just paid off her previous loans. This time, she’d be forced to use Nimway as collateral, but risking the loss of the estate was terrifying, and she’d prefer not to go that route.
THE LEGEND OF NIMWAY HALL: 1888 - ALEXANDRA Page 10
