Alex snorted. "No one else need be involved. I am sure you can come up with enough mischief on your own. Do you remember the trouble we found ourselves in at Cambridge?"
Ainsley chuckled. "That was a lifetime ago."
Alex shifted, leaning heavily on his cane. "It was, indeed."
"I haven’t wanted to pry, but what happened?" Ainsley motioned to the cane with his head.
"I was tossed from my berth during a storm on the passage back. I hit the corner of the table in my cabin." Alex rubbed absently at his thigh, feeling only slightly guilty for lying to his friend.
Another clap of thunder shook the dishes displayed on a nearby shelf. Alex blinked rapidly several times and took in a ragged breath.
Ainsley grinned and elbowed Alex in the ribs.
"Are you a military man?"
Both men turned toward the voice behind them. The voice belonged to man with tanned skin and somber eyes.
Alex raised a brow. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we have met."
The rugged man pulled his broad shoulders into a precise posture.
Ainsley took a small step back. "Ah, let me do the honors. Captain Sharpe, may I introduce Alexander Bellingham, the Earl of Grayson."
Alex bowed slightly. "Lord Grayson, Captain Jack Sharpe of His Majesty's Royal Navy."
Captain Sharpe stepped forward, his hand extended.
Alex grasped it, impressed by the man’s firm grip. "To answer your earlier question, Captain Sharpe. I am not a military man."
Captain Sharpe’s gaze turned puzzled. "Oh, I apologize. I thought you were speaking of ship life."
Alex took a step back, his face becoming a stony mask. "I was returning after being abroad for some time. I would certainly not consider such a short time ship life."
"I see. I had hoped to have found a commonality. Again, my apologies for interrupting." Captain Sharpe’s face fell slightly, disappointment evident in his voice.
Alex shook his head. "No need to apologize, Captain." Alex studied the man, sensing something familiar about him. "A navy man. I've heard many a sailor lament the peace in which we find ourselves. Do you find it difficult as well, sir?"
Captain Sharpe shrugged. "Of course. It is not as if I can collect prize money, standing here gabbing with the lot of you." He smiled, revealing white teeth, then grimaced.
Alex chuckled at the man’s candor.
Ainsley placed his empty glass on a nearby tray. "What was the name of the ship you served on, Sharpe?" He rubbed his chin. "The Fentwood?"
Captain Sharpe’s eyes lit up. "The Fleetwood, my lord."
Ainsley nodded. "Oh, yes. The Fleetwood."
Alex sucked in a breath, drawing the eyes of both men. "The Fleetwood, you say?" Alex squinted at Captain Sharpe. Was that why he had looked familiar? Captain Dennison had engaged the Fleetwood, as it escorted a merchant fleet to port, several years back. He had gone so far as to board the ship and raid it. Alex had been assigned to guard the Captain of the Fleetwood while the others plundered the ship. Was Sharpe that Captain? Alex shook his head, doubting it was the same man—praying it wasn’t. If it was the same man, did Captain Sharpe recognize him?
Dennison had ordered the Captain killed, but Alex had refused. It had nearly cost him his own life. But in the end, Alex had convinced Dennison not to kill the Captain because the raid had been successful. And what better way to increase Captain Dennison’s reputation than a survivor’s tale?
Alex lifted his glass but no brandy passed his lips. He studied Sharpe discreetly, trying to discover if the man recognized him. Perhaps it would be best to keep the Captain at a distance. He allowed Ainsley and Sharpe to carry the conversation; Alex only nodding and smiling at the appropriate times.
Finally, Mr. Garvey stepped forward. "I am ready to join the ladies. What say the rest of you?"
An echo of agreement sounded throughout the room.
Alex sagged in relief, using his walking stick to support him.
"I couldn't agree more," Ainsley said with a wide grin as he straightened his waistcoat.
Alex entered the parlor behind the rest of the men. His leg ached, forcing him to lag at the back of the group.
His eyes roamed about the room, stopping when they found Miss Marleigh. The sudden wetness of his palms made the alabaster ball atop his walking stick slippery. He paused long enough to wipe his hands down the sides of his pants, then slowly made his way toward the settee where Miss Marleigh sat with her cousin.
Before Alex made it halfway across the room, Lord Nathanial captured the seat next to Miss Marleigh.
Alex stopped, watching the two talk. Miss Marleigh's smile was tight and false, in Alex's opinion. He should go and help free her from the unwanted conversation. He took only two steps when he recalled the evening before. He had thought he was saving her from the company of Mr. Poole, but she had not been happy with his interference. Perhaps she would not desire it tonight either.
Alex turned and moved instead to a chair in the corner of the room. Sitting down, his eyes closed partially, and his breath slowly released as he gently rubbed at his leg. The wound throbbed. It was a constant reminder of his and Abigail’s beginnings and his less then gentlemanly behavior toward her.
An excited flurry erupted as footmen came forward and began to move the furniture to the perimeter of the room. Carpets were rolled up and removed. It appeared a dance was to be the evening’s entertainment.
Miss Martindale led Miss Marleigh over to the pianoforte and motioned for her to play. Soon, a lively tune echoed through the room and several couples danced about.
Alex grumbled to himself, having never been fond of dancing. Although, he conceded, the music did help drown out the sounds of the storm raging outside. Alex sat in his corner, discreetly watching the merriment, or at least the merriment which surrounded Miss Marleigh.
She played a handful of upbeat songs, before Miss Barton took over the task of playing.
Lord Nathanial sauntered over and bowed over Miss Marleigh's hand, obviously asking for the next set. Alex clenched the ball of his walking stick.
Miss Marleigh gave Lord Nathanial the same tight smile she had given him earlier, but still, she nodded.
Alex growled low in his throat. It was not as though he knew her so very well, but he thought he recognized disinterest when he saw it.
"She is a lovely creature, is she not?"
Sir Richard stood next to Alex's chair.
"To whom are you referring?"
Sir Richard chuckled, his shoulders bouncing lightly. "The young lady you have been unable to keep your eyes off."
Alex twisted the alabaster ball around in his hand. "I don't know of what you are speaking."
"I'm not daft, Grayson. Miss Marleigh is a remarkable young lady. A great talent on the pianoforte. And I never have met a girl with a kinder disposition. Perhaps not the wealthiest prospect here, but respectable. I should say she would make you a very good match."
Alex swallowed. His throat felt thick and dry. "There is more to a lady than her money, Sir Richard. As you are well aware, I don't need money."
"Which is why I was pointing out her other virtues."
Alex rubbed his hand over his thigh. "You are wasting your breath. She knows who I am. There is nothing which could turn her attentions toward me." He scowled up at Sir Richard. "If I were interested. Which I am not."
Sir Richard put a finger to his lips. "I believe you are wrong—very wrong."
“About what?” Alex snapped, watching Lord Nathanial and Miss Marleigh dance. Alex’s stomach burned.
Sir Richard gave him a sideways glance before returning his gaze to the dance floor. “All of it.”
The dance ended and Lord Ainsley approached Miss Marleigh. She smiled brightly at him, nodding as she curtsied.
Alex glared at the back of Ainsley’s head. Had she ever smiled like that at Alex?
"Why don't you ask her to dance yourself, instead of glowering at everyone who asks her." Lady Ca
rtwright stood next her husband.
"She does not wish to dance with me."
Lady Cartwright guffawed. "And how did you come by this notion?"
"The lady made it very clear last evening she did not desire my company. Besides, I can't dance with my injured leg." Alex pushed himself to standing. "I’m tired. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I will retire for the evening."
"I heard mention that a waltz is next." Lady Cartwright's voice sounded at his back.
Alex froze. A waltz? He had not waltzed in years; even then, it had only been in lessons. Could he even perform the steps with his leg? Alex glanced at Miss Marleigh, his heart hammering, and shook his head. No. As much as he desired it, it was not to be.
The music ended and Alex moved toward the doorway, only going slightly out of his way so he could pass near her.
She turned from the dance floor, bumping hard into Alex’s chest.
He stood as still as a statue.
Her head dropped back and her gaze caught his. "I'm sorry. I didn’t mean—." She took a small step back.
Alex cleared his throat. "It is I who should be apologizing. I was just leaving. I should have minded my steps better."
Her deep brown eyes stared up at him and he could not seem to form a complete sentence.
"So early? The evening has only just begun."
Alex gripped his cane harder, trying to focus his thoughts. He kicked out his injured leg a bit. "I…I’m…I’m not up for dancing, just yet." Alex gulped and took a step back. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."
“You are not bothering me.” Her voice lowered. “Captain.” The corners of her mouth quirked up slightly.
Lord Nathanial approached Miss Marleigh, ignoring Alex though he stood right in front of her. "Miss Marleigh, might I claim another dance? I’ve heard tale it is a waltz." He waggled his brows at her.
Her face colored up and she shook her head. "I find I am quite fatigued, my lord. I think I shall sit the next one out."
He reached out for her. "Come. Surely you can dance one more set? I confess, I have found no one else as proficient on the dance floor as you."
Miss Marleigh pulled her arm from his grasp. "As I said before, I am far too exhausted. Now if you will excuse me, I am in need of some air."
Miss Marleigh turned, leaving Lord Nathanial standing with Alex, both men staring after her retreating form.
Miss Marleigh pulled open the doors at the far end of the room. The moist air blew in, bringing several leaves with it.
Alex’s brow creased when the current weather did not change her course. What was she thinking going outside? It may not be pelting down rain at the moment, but Alex could feel that more rain was coming. He had developed almost a sense for the weather while captaining the Destiny.
Alex’s lips pursed when he saw Lord Nathanial follow her out to the terrace, keeping a slight distance between them. When he shut the door behind him, Alex felt his stomach clench.
He started in the direction of the terrace but stopped midstride. What was he doing? Had she not already indicated he was not to interfere? Perhaps she had previously arranged to meet Lord Nathanial out on the terrace.
The thought did not ring true, forcing Alex forward. A clap of thunder shook the windows in their casing. He stopped and blinked several times before continuing on.
Alex opened the door quietly, holding tightly to the knob to keep it from slamming closed by the wind. He stepped out onto the brick paved veranda, pausing behind the ivy topiary next to the doors.
“You may return to the parlor, my lord. As you can see, I am well. I only need a moment and then I shall return also.” Miss Marleigh’s voice was insistent.
Lightning lit up the sky and seconds later the thunder followed, drowning out Lord Nathanial’s response. Alex closed his eyes and bit his lip before peering around the plant.
He pulled back. Why was he intruding on her private moment? She was not his. It was not his right to spy on her. He should return to the parlor and retire as he had planned.
"Let me go, my lord!" Miss Marleigh’s panicked voice rose over the wind.
Alex peeked around just as she slapped Lord Nathanial across the face.
He grabbed hold of her wrists, pulling her closer to him. “I know you are interested. I have seen the looks you have cast in my direction.”
Miss Marleigh shook her head and tried to pull back. “No. You are wrong.”
“I am never wrong, Abigail.”
Alex stepped from behind the topiary. "I believe the lady made her desires clear, my lord. Leave her be."
Lord Nathanial smirked at Alex. "This is none of your concern."
Alex looked over to Miss Marleigh, her eyes wide, her skin pale.
He clutched the top of his walking stick tightly. "I have decided to make it my concern. Now release her or I shall do it for you." His voice was thick with anger.
Lord Nathanial looked at Alex's walking stick and threw his head back in laughter, releasing Miss Marleigh’s wrists. “I should like to see you try.”
She crossed the space between them quickly, coming to stand behind Alex. "Be careful, my lord. I fear he is in his cups."
Alex glanced over his shoulder and chuckled. "You are warning me to be careful?"
Lord Nathanial lunged at Alex.
In one swift motion, Alex struck Lord Nathaniel at the knees with his stick sending him sprawling to the ground. He grabbed at his knees, moaning and crying in pain.
Alex turned to Miss Marleigh. “Did he harm you?”
She shook her head, a drop of rain falling onto her check. Then another. Before Alex could move, rain showered down, soaking them both.
Alex put his hand on Miss Marleigh's elbow and motioned to the terrace doors with his stick. "You can’t return. You are soaking wet."
He led her past several darkened doors, finally stopping at the fourth set. Alex twisted the knobs and pushed the doors open. He hoped the room they entered was far enough from the parlor for them both to leave without being seen.
The only light in the room came from a small fire in the grate casting a low glow. It looked to be the library.
He closed the door behind him and turned back toward her. Her wide eyes staring back at him brought the realization that he had likely taken her from one damaging situation into another. It would not appear any less scandalous for them to emerge from a darkened library together then from a terrace.
Alex felt for the door behind him, twisting the knob and opening the door again. "You are far enough away, you should be able to get to your chambers without being seen. I will see to Lord Nathanial. He will not make any mention of his indiscretion nor bother you again." Alex squeezed his hand around the top of his cane. "I guarantee it."
Miss Marleigh tipped her head to the side. She licked the rain off her lips before biting the lower one.
Alex felt a warmth spread from his chest to the rest of his body.
She took a few steps forward, closing the distance which separated them. Lifting a shaky hand, she ran her thumb down his cheek, tracing the line of his scar. "How did you get this?”
“It was a punishment for not following orders.” Alex hardly recognized his own voice.
She dropped her hand, a soft smile curving her lips. “Thank you, Lord Grayson, or Captain Stringham. I'm not sure which man is the real you."
Unable to stand there any longer without touching her, Alex sketched a brief bow and exited back into the rain.
Chapter 12
Abigail sat in the window seat of her room, staring at the gardens below. A raindrop streaked down the window, growing as it added other smaller drops to its bulk.
She licked at her lips, remembering the feel of the rain on them the night before. A little shiver went down her spine, causing the hairs on her arms to raise. When she thought of what could have happened on the terrace and then in the library….
How could two such similar events cause such opposite reactions in her?
&
nbsp; The thought of Lord Nathanial kissing her brought bile to her throat. She had not realized he had followed her out.
But Lord Grayson had saved her. Her face flushed remembering him with his wet hair, rain dripping down his face. And the softness of his cheek as she ran her finger down his scar. What had she been thinking with such an untoward action? What must he think of her? Her face heated even more.
She had wondered briefly if he would lean in and kiss her. But then he had bowed and made his escape.
She sighed, tracing a raindrop down the window with her finger. This was the third day of inclement weather. The first day, she had braved the wind and cold, but yesterday, no one had gone out of doors. It looked as though today would be no different.
A knock sounded and Clara opened the door, followed by Hannah.
"You must hurry and get dressed. The men are to have a fencing tournament. It is sure to be diverting."
Abigail stood from the window seat and moved to the dressing table, where Hannah separated the braid running down Abigail's back.
Hannah brushed Abigail's hair until it crackled, then after twisting the hair this way and that, she pinned it into place until a lovely knot sat at the back of Abigail's head. The ministrations brought back memories of Sally, Abigail's maid, before her uncle had come to Ridgewood Hall and replaced the entire staff. Abigail sat quietly, staring into the mirror.
"Stop wool gathering and get your dress on or we shall miss breakfast entirely." Clara stood beside the bed, her toe tapping impatiently.
"Patience never was one of your virtues, was it, cousin?" Abigail’s mind flitted back to the day at the pond with Lord Grayson and her face flushed. She stood and moved closer to the wardrobe. Raising her arms above her head, Hannah lifted off her night clothes and draped them over the back of a nearby chair.
"I thought the pink dress would help cheer up this dreary day, miss." Hannah looked over her shoulder at Abigail. "If that is acceptable to you?"
Abigail smiled at the girl, unsure why she was so timid. Hannah was much more at ease around Clara, who, on occasion, was quite demanding.
Miss Marleigh's Pirate Lord (Regency House Party: Havencrest Book 1) Page 9
