You, and Only You

by Jennifer McNare

  “Yes, well, what were we discussing, dear?” she asked, as she attempted to collect her bearings.

  As they resumed their earlier conversation, fortunately only Alex and Tiffany seemed aware of the physically charged atmosphere that lingered between the two of them. And while Aunt Rose remained blissfully unaware, she did, however, manage to stay awake for the remainder of their drive.

  “Regrettably, I have some pressing business matters to attend to tomorrow,” Alex told Tiffany as he walked her to her front door a little less than an hour later. “But I would like to call upon you later in the week, if you’re amenable.”

  Though she didn’t wish to appear too eager, she couldn’t repress her pleased smile. “I would like that.”

  “Excellent,” Alex replied with an engaging smile of his own. “Until then, my lady.”

  After placing a light kiss upon the back of her hand, Alex took his leave, leaving Tiffany feeling as if she were floating on a cloud.

  Chapter 11

  Entering through the doorway of White’s after a long day of business-related activities, Alex was ready for a much needed break as he greeted the host, handed his coat and hat to the waiting footman and then made his way to the main gathering room. Glancing about, he wasn’t surprised to see that the exclusive gentlemen’s club was far less crowded than usual. With a quick sweep of the room, he could see that the man he was looking for had yet to arrive. With a friendly nod toward a group of acquaintances, he requested a drink from one of the uniformed waiters and then moved purposefully to an unoccupied corner of the room. Settling into a comfortable chair, he waited for his drink and the arrival of Brendon Leighton; the former arriving considerably before the latter.

  Walking into the room with a rueful expression, Brendon walked briskly to Alex’s side. “Sorry, old man,” he said with an apologetic grin. “I was unavoidably detained.”

  “And did this unavoidable detainment have a name?” Alex queried with a knowing smirk.

  “Jacqueline,” Brendon replied unabashedly, dropping into the chair next to Alex.

  “French?”

  “Oui,” he replied roguishly, crossing his ankles and reclining contentedly against the chairs plump cushion.

  “Actress?”

  “Ballerina,” he said with a blissful sigh. “Extremely flexible,” he added, waggling his brows wickedly.

  “Well then, clearly you’re forgiven,” Alex said benevolently. Chuckling, he raised his glass in salute.

  “I knew you would understand.” Raising his hand, he summoned a nearby waiter.

  When his drink arrived, Brendon took it from the waiter and then held it aloft, grinning at Alex. “Here’s to the night ahead, may it be one we shall never forget.”

  “Here, here,” Alex replied with a matching grin.

  When Alex walked through the front door of his townhouse shortly before dawn, he was surprisingly steady on his feet. Though he’d only just dropped Brendon off at the docks, neither of them had drunk nearly as much as they might have on such an occasion.

  After leaving White’s and heading to Covent Garden to watch a highly-touted boxing match between two of London’s best-known bareknuckle pugilists, he and Brendon had visited a few of their favorite local pubs, and then ultimately ended up at Boodle’s several hours later. Within minutes of their arrival at the private club, they’d been heralded by several of their friends and had soon been coaxed into joining a high-stakes card game that had lasted well into the early morning hours. As he was never foolish enough to gamble when he was too far into his cups, he’d refrained from overindulging. Fortunately Brendon was likeminded, and as a result, both of them had left the table relatively sober, in addition to being significantly plumper in the pockets.

  All in all, it had been a highly enjoyable evening, as well as a very profitable one. And of course, the fact that he wouldn’t have a splitting headache to deal with later on was an added bonus, he thought, as he made his way up to his bedchamber. He doubted that the Marquess of Melborne could say the same, however, for on their way out the door, he’d spotted Tiffany’s father at another of Boodle’s high-stakes card tables, looking quite the worse for wear. Considering the sullen expression he’d observed upon William’s face, he could only imagine that the marquess’ evening hadn’t gone nearly as well as his own. Not surprisingly, he felt little sympathy for his future father-in-law.

  Opening her eyes, Tiffany lay quietly for a moment, unsure what it was that had woken her. Glancing toward the window, she could see that it was still dark outside. Hmm, perhaps it was nothing, she mused, allowing her tired eyes to drift shut. But then she heard it, a series of muffled thuds, followed by the unmistakable sound of cursing in the hallway outside her bedchamber door. What on earth? Was that her father’s voice? Concerned, she swung her legs out of bed and reached for her silk wrapper.

  Pulling the gown’s sash tight at her waist, she hurried across the room and pulled open the door. She saw him then, one hand pressed against the wall, as if he were trying to regain his balance. “Father, are you alright?” she asked, hastening to his side. As he turned to face her, she was met with a bleary-eyed gaze and immediately detected the potent smell of alcohol. Good heavens, he was completely soused, she realized.

  “What the devil do you want?” her father snapped, slurring his words as he attempted to focus upon her face.

  “Nothing father…I…here let me help you,” she said, reaching for his arm.

  “I don’t need your damned help,” he barked, yanking his arm from her grasp. Pushing away from the wall, he attempted to stand on his own. Taking a step forward, he teetered precariously upon the balls of his feet.

  “Here, father,” Tiffany said, reaching for him once again. “Let me just get you to your room.”

  “I don’t need any help from the likes of you,” he muttered gruffly as he steadied himself.

  “Father,” Tiffany said in a calming tone, “if you’ll just hold onto my-” Her words were cut off as he rounded on her. He jerked his arm free of her hold and slapped her, his face mottled in fury.

  “Did you not hear me, girl? Leave me be damn you!” he shouted.

  Tiffany staggered backward, her hand clutched to her cheek, her eyes wide with shock. Despite his callousness, her father had never raised his hand to her before.

  William stared at her for a moment, his expression slightly dumbfounded, as if he too was shocked by what he’d just done. But then, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath, he abruptly turned away and staggered down the hall in the direction of his bedchamber.

  With her hand still pressed to her face, Tiffany watched him go, and then stepped back into her room and quietly closed the door. With an inner strength she didn’t know she possessed, she walked back to her bed with her shoulders straight and her head held high, refusing to allow even a single tear to fall from her eyes. He wasn’t worth it.

  Sitting in the peace and serenity of the rear garden the following morning, Tiffany reached down and picked up a fallen oak leaf from the ground. Twirling it slowly between her thumb and forefinger, she tried to put the previous night’s events out of her mind as she studied the delicate variations in color.

  “You’re looking rather somber this morning. Is there anything I can do to help lighten your mood?”

  “Alex,” she said, rising to her feet. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I hope that I’m not disturbing you,” he replied with a warm smile as he approached.

  “Of course not. I’m delighted to see you.”

  “I can’t stay long,” he said. “But I wanted to see you before I left town.”

  “You’re leaving?” Tiffany’s heart seemed to plummet to her toes.

  “Only for a few days,” he clarified. “I have business in Gloucester, and regrettably it is something that cannot wait.”

  Tiffany felt relieved at once. “Oh, I see,” she said smiling up at him. A few days wasn’t so terribly long, she reasoned.r />
  Narrowing his eyes, Alex’s gaze suddenly focused upon the slight discoloration upon Tiffany’s cheek. “What happened to your face?” he asked in concern, drawing a step closer. Grasping her chin, he gently tilted her head to the side, eyeing her cheek intently.

  “My face?”

  “You have a bruise on your cheek,” he clarified. “Right here,” he said, brushing his thumb ever so lightly across her left cheekbone.

  “Oh,” she said, casting her eyes downward. “It’s nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Alex prompted, dropping his hand and taking a small step back.

  “I merely tripped, that’s all,” Tiffany dissembled, “and bumped my cheek against a doorframe.”

  “A doorframe?”

  Tiffany lifted her gaze back to his face, struggling to appear nonchalant. “Silly isn’t it? I’m not usually so clumsy.”

  She’s lying, Alex thought. But why? Well, whatever the reason, he could see that she was clearly uncomfortable discussing the matter, so for the time being he decided not to press her. “Shall we walk for a moment?” he asked, extending his elbow. “I promise I won’t let you fall,” he said with a teasing smile.

  Smiling in return, Tiffany eagerly took his arm.

  After a brief stroll, Alex had left Tiffany alone in garden once again, but not before he’d promised to take her to visit the Great Exhibition upon his return. Surprisingly, though he’d been before, he was looking forward to it nearly as much as she was.

  Reentering the house, he was presently making his way to the foyer when he happened upon William in the hallway. Considering the state he’d been in the night before, the marquess’ haggard appearance was hardly a surprise, but it was the ring on William’s right hand that abruptly drew Alex’s attention. Recalling Tiffany’s unease when he’d mentioned the bruise, he couldn’t help the sudden thought that passed through his head. Could that have been the cause of Tiffany’s bruised cheek? Dear God, the mere possibility pained him beyond measure. It also had him seeing red.

  “Chesterfield, what brings you here this morning?” William said dispassionately, as he noted his presence.

  “I came to inform Tiffany that I would be leaving town for a few days,” he replied. “I have business in Gloucester.”

  William nodded disinterestedly. “Well, pleasant journey to you,” he said, his tone dismissive.

  “Actually, I wonder if I might have a brief word with you before I take my leave, Melborne?”

  William quirked his brow questioningly.

  “Perhaps it would be better if we spoke privately,” Alex said, glancing up and down the hall.

  The marquess hesitated for a moment before answering, his expression ill-disposed. “Fine,” he said in a peevish tone. “We can talk in my study.”

  As William led the way, Alex tried to control his escalating temper, for he could be wrong, he reminded himself.

  “Something to drink?” William asked as they entered the empty room.

  “No,” Alex responded as William pulled the door closed. “This won’t take long.”

  William motioned to the nearest chair, but Alex shook his head. “Like I said, this won’t take long.” Pinning William with his piercing gaze he asked bluntly, “What happened to Tiffany’s face.”

  “Excuse me?” William replied, clearly taken aback by the question.

  “What...happened...to...Tiffany’s...face?” he repeated, enunciating each word in a steely tone.

  Alex watched as understanding entered the marquess’ eyes. He could see the guilt that sparked there as well, and his fury mounted.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” William replied, his expression suddenly wary.

  “I think you do.” Alex’s own expression was hard and uncompromising as he took a step forward.

  “What did she tell you?” William demanded, his eyes narrowing as his demeanor rapidly grew defensive.

  “She said that she tripped and bumped her cheek against a doorframe,” Alex said quietly, noting the look of surprise that crossed William’s face.

  “Well then why-”

  “Don’t,” Alex said harshly, cutting him off. “You put that bruise on her cheek and we both know it.”

  “How dare you,” William spluttered.

  Alex took another step forward, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

  “Damn you, Chesterfield,’ William began, squaring his shoulders, “you have no right to question me about-”

  Alex grabbed him then, his hands ruthlessly gripping the marquess’ jacket as he shoved him back against the wall. Eye to eye, toe to toe, he glared at William in fury. “I have every right,” he ground out. “And if you ever so much as lay a finger upon her again, I will make sure that you regret it for the rest of your miserable life,” he continued, his tone cold and menacing.

  Assured that Tiffany would suffer no further abuse from her father, Alex finally exited the house a few minutes later. But even so, as he entered his waiting coach, leaving her behind was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.

  Chapter 12

  The following week, just as he’d promised, Alex took Tiffany to visit the Great Exhibition. And it was even more spectacular than she’d imagined it would be. From the beauty of the building itself, to the priceless works of art showcased throughout, the Crystal Palace was truly remarkable in both its design and visual appeal. Strolling past the various exhibits housed within its glass walls, she was amazed by the sheer size and scope of the exhibition as well. Numbering over thirteen-thousand, the exhibits showcased everything from metal presses and firearms to envelope making machines and furniture. There was also an area set up for visitors to watch the entire process of cotton production from spinning to finished cloth. But it was the wide variety of scientific displays and demonstrations that truly captured her interest. There were electric telegraphs, microscopes, air pumps and barometers, as well as musical, horological and surgical instruments, all of which she found extremely fascinating.

  Fortunately, Alex was the perfect companion, for much to her delight his interests seemed to parallel her own. However, despite her desire to carry on, after several hours of touring the exhibition, she was beginning to tire.

  “Have you had enough for today?” Alex asked, eyeing her perceptively.

  Tiffany nodded. “I think so,” she acknowledged with a touch of regret, for there was still so much she hadn’t seen. All in all though, it was a day that she would never forget, and she would be forever grateful that she had been able to share such a wonderful experience with Alex.

  “Shall we go and fetch Lucy then?”

  “Yes, let’s do.”

  As his aunt Rose hadn’t felt up to the day-long excursion, Lucy, the housemaid who’d been sent out to the garden to keep watch over them that first day, had accompanied Tiffany and Alex on their present outing. Sending her off with a handful of coins, the delighted young maid had been allowed to tour the exhibits on her own, with instructions to meet them later on at the central fountain.

  When they reached the agreed upon meeting spot minutes later, Lucy was there waiting for them.

  “Did you enjoy the exhibition, Lucy?” Tiffany asked as they made their way to the exit and Alex’s waiting carriage.

  “Oh yes, my lady,” she replied, bobbing her head enthusiastically. Holding two small packages in her hands, she then turned to Alex. “And thank you ever so much, my lord,” she continued shyly.

  “You’re more than welcome, Lucy,” Alex said with a smile, glad to see that she’d spent some of the money he’d given her.

  Tiffany hid a grin as she watched Lucy’s face. It was clear that Alex’s smile had the same effect upon Lucy that it seemed to have on virtually every other woman he encountered. She looked utterly dazzled. She could hardly blame her though, for no matter how many times Alex’s smile was directed at her, the result was always the same. Looking at him now, it was hard to believe that he might one day be hers, for despite all th
at had occurred during the past week, at times she still couldn’t help wondering if it was all just a glorious dream.

  Shortly after depositing Tiffany and Lucy at the Marlowe residence, Alex was seated in his study, reviewing the daily correspondence that had been placed atop his desk. Aside from a handful of business related communications, there wasn’t much of interest. Tossing the document he’d been reviewing for the past several minutes onto the desktop, he leaned back in his chair. Laying his head against the top of the backrest, he simply allowed his thoughts to wander. Not surprisingly, they soon turned to his impending marriage, and ultimately to Tiffany. Though he didn’t blame her, he had to admit that there was still a small part of him that resented the circumstances that had brought about his upcoming trip to the altar. Hells bells, a mere month ago he would have laughed outright at the notion that he was to become permanently leg-shackled within the year. Nevertheless, here he was. It defied all reason.

  And yet, if he was to acknowledge the one blessing in the situation, it was surely Tiffany herself. Throughout the course of the past two weeks, they’d spent a significant amount of time together, properly chaperoned of course, and in that time he’d learned a great deal more about her personality. He had to admit, he wasn’t disappointed. In addition to their undeniable physical attraction to one another, they had quite a few similar interests, as well as several shared character traits. Like him, she was an avid equestrian, extremely well-read, she shared his interest in astronomy as well as philosophy and she had a keen interest in social reform as well. In addition, she had a kind, generous nature, she exhibited a delightful sense of humor as well as a modest and unassuming graciousness, and she was fiercely loyal to her friends. In truth, aside from her self-confessed lack of musical talent, inability to sew a straight line, and a mediocre artistic ability, she possessed virtually all of the qualities a man could possibly ask for in a wife.