You, and Only You

by Jennifer McNare

  Tiffany cast a quick, sidelong glance at Alex, but he appeared unaffected by the woman’s shockingly forthright manner.

  “Tell me, my dear,” she continued, her gaze unabashedly probing now, “however did you manage it?”

  Surprised by the marchioness’ impudent question, Tiffany was rendered momentarily speechless. Fortunately however, Alex saved her from having to come up with a response.

  “I can assure you, Lady Danbury, that one has only to spend the briefest of time in Tiffany’s company to know the answer to that question,” Alex responded with true gallantry.

  “As silver-tongued as ever, aren’t you my boy,” Millicent declared with a hearty chuckle, causing the purple feathers that adorned her garish hat to bob and sway atop her head. “In any event, I’m sure your dear mother is beside herself with glee.”

  “Having met Tiffany, she is understandably so.”

  “Indeed.”

  “If you’ll excuse us, Lady Danbury, we had best get to our box before the performance begins.” Tipping his head, Alex abruptly ended their conversation.

  “Am I mistaken, or did Lady Danbury’s gaze drop more than once to focus upon my waistline?” Tiffany queried as they walked away, an amused expression on her face.

  “You’re not mistaken,” Alex said with a shake of his head. “And the old bat is sure to be gravely disappointed, having discerned no telltale bump beneath your gown,” he continued with a derisive grin.

  “Oh dear,” Tiffany replied, raising her hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

  As they continued to their box, Alex nodded to several people in passing, but made no move to stop and converse with any of them. Though he hadn’t the slightest reluctance to stroll through the crowd with Tiffany on his arm, he simply wasn’t in the mood to entertain any more probing questions.

  “So, what do you think so far?” Alex asked, turning to Tiffany as the curtain closed on the first act.

  “Oh Alex, it’s simply marvelous,” Tiffany proclaimed, smiling brightly.

  “I thought you would enjoy it,” he responded with a pleased expression. The Barber of Seville had long been one of his favorite operettas.

  “I do,” she said, nodding enthusiastically. “I cannot wait to see Rosina’s reaction when she discovers that Lindoro is really Count Almaviva.”

  “But wait you must, at least until the second act begins,” he teased. “Shall we utilize the pause to stretch our legs?”

  Dreading the thought of making her way through the crowded lobby once more, Tiffany shook her head. “I’m fine, but you go on ahead.”

  “Are you certain? I hate to leave you sitting here all alone.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said with another bright smile. “I shall be perfectly fine. Go on.”

  “Alright then,” he said, standing up. “I confess I find these chairs deuced uncomfortable,” he admitted. “I won’t be long,” he promised, pushing the velvet curtain aside as he stepped out of their box.

  Turning her attention to the crowd below, Tiffany leaned forward, placing her hand upon the edge of the balcony as she casually surveyed the vast auditorium. Much to her surprise, she noted a great number of faces looking upward, with several curious gazes fixed pointedly in her direction. Disconcerted, she quickly sat back in her chair.

  Hearing the faint rustle of the curtain a moment later, Tiffany turned toward the sound. She hadn’t expected Alex to return so quickly. Unfortunately however, it wasn’t Alex who’d parted the red velvet. Garbed in a sophisticated and stylish gown of jade-green silk, Lucinda Langdon entered the box with a saccharine smile shaping her lovely mouth.

  “Good evening, Lady Marlowe,” she greeted as she approached Tiffany.

  “Baroness Langdon,” Tiffany acknowledged, rising to her feet.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said, her gaze darting briefly to the large diamond ring on Tiffany’s finger.

  “Of course not,” Tiffany replied politely.

  “How fortunate, for when I noticed you from my box across the way, I knew that I simply had to stop by and offer my congratulations on your recent engagement,” she said in a tone that revealed the disingenuousness of her words.

  “How considerate.”

  “Such a remarkable turn of events really,” she declared. “I admit, I was beginning to wonder if anyone would be able to lure Chesterfield to the altar,” she continued, her lips reshaping themselves into a malevolent smirk. “But apparently all it took was the proper incentive.”

  Incentive? Tiffany’s brow wrinkled in confusion at the peculiar comment. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Oh, you needn’t act coy, my dear. Everyone knows that Chesterfield has been trying to get his hands on that land your father owns for years now. And now, thanks to you, he finally has.”

  Land? What land? Tiffany stared blankly at the baroness, struggling to make sense of the woman’s bizarre assertion.

  “You and your father should be quite proud of yourselves,” she continued, tapping Tiffany’s forearm lightly with the fan she held folded in her hand. “Regardless of your method, you’ve managed to snag one of the most eligible bachelors in England. It’s quite a coup, and I for one commend you for it.” Despite her words, the insincerity was all but dripping from the baroness’ ruby-red lips.

  Completely nonplussed, Tiffany was mercifully spared from uttering a retort as the velvet curtain was pushed aside and Alex entered the box, carrying two champagne flutes in his hands.

  “Baroness Langdon, this is a surprise,” Alex said, eyeing Lucinda dispassionately. “I wasn’t aware you were in London.”

  “Hello, Alex,” she cooed with unabashed familiarity, flashing him a dazzling smile.

  He cringed internally. “Is Winston with you this evening?” he asked politely.

  “Sadly no,” Lucinda said with an exaggerated pout. “He comes to town so infrequently these days.”

  Alex merely nodded.

  “Well, I suppose I should be going,” she said. “I just popped in to say hello after all, and to congratulate the two of you on your engagement, of course.”

  “How thoughtful of you,” he replied coolly, stepping aside so that she could pass.

  Casting one last malevolent smile in Tiffany’s direction, Lucinda turned and left the box, the cloying scent of her perfume wafting behind her.

  As the second half of the performance got under way, Alex noticed a discernible change in Tiffany’s demeanor. Whereas before, when she’d sat enthralled, watching the performance in marked delight, her attention now appeared to be elsewhere. Damn that bitch Lucinda, he thought irately, wondering what in the hell she’d said to have caused the change in Tiffany’s mood.

  As Tiffany silently pondered Lucinda Langdon’s disturbing claims, she couldn’t ignore the unsettling possibility that there was at least some degree of truth to what the baroness had said. And now, despite her earlier enjoyment of the dynamic stage production, the characters presently held little interest for her as her thoughts remained focused upon everything the baroness had said.

  Was it possible that the true motivation behind Alex’s proposal was to acquire the land the baroness had mentioned? Was she merely being used as a pawn, as an incentive, to facilitate an intractable business dealing between Alex and her father? No, surely not, for it seemed an implausible notion. But then again, her father’s reaction to Alex’s courtship and proposal had struck her as odd. She recalled his incongruous demeanor when Alex had formally asked for her hand and the fact that he’d seemed not the least bit surprised that a man of his reputation had so abruptly set aside his reluctance to marry. With a sick feeling in her stomach, she thought back to the night of her birthday ball when her father had so boorishly sent her away so that he could speak with Alex alone. Could that discussion possibly have involved her? As much as she didn’t want to believe the baroness’ vile claims, she was simply unable to disregard them completely.

  She wasn’t naïve. She knew that marr
iages within the aristocracy were more often than not based on financial dealings between the two families involved, rather than any type of romantic feelings, or lack thereof, between the intended bride and groom. So then, if that was the case here, why would her father and Alex have deliberately kept it from her? It made no sense, no sense at all. But even so…

  As the curtain drew to a close upon the second and final act and the thunderous sound of applause filled the air, Tiffany’s thoughts were still spinning in a jumbled whirl. Although she’d tried to set aside the baroness’ comments and focus her attention upon Rosina’s fate, she had been woefully unsuccessful. Nonetheless, rising to her feet beside Alex, she forced a smile to her lips as she lent her applause to the others.

  Wending their way through the exiting throng a few minutes later, they were hailed on two separate occasions by acquaintances of Alex, but in both instances, the people to whom she was introduced were all exceedingly polite as they offered their congratulations on her and Alex’s impending nuptials. Nonetheless, with her thoughts still in turmoil, Tiffany was relieved when they finally made their way outside.

  “Are you cold?” Alex asked, as they waited for his coach to advance in the queue at the front of the opera house.

  “No, the breeze feels nice,” Tiffany replied, enjoying the feel of the cool night air after the warmth of the crowded theater.

  “The nights will be growing colder before long,” he mused.

  He was right. The weather was slowly changing with autumn coming just around the corner. “I don’t mind. In fact, this is my favorite time of year.”

  “Autumn?”

  She nodded. “I love the crispness in the air and the changing colors of the leaves as they fall from the tress and blanket the ground.”

  “You’ll like Chesterfield then,” Alex replied, smiling. “It’s surrounded by towering oaks and flowering maples whose colors range from the most brilliant yellows and golds to the most vibrant of reds.”

  “It sounds beautiful.”

  “When I was a boy I used to love scooping the fallen leaves into huge piles and then throwing myself into their midst.”

  “I did that once too,” Tiffany proclaimed. “But then after my governess spent more than an hour picking tiny bits of leaves from my hair, I was soundly chastised and forbidden from ever doing such a thing again.”

  “She sounds like a harridan,” Alex said in an exaggeratedly sympathetic tone.

  “Oh, she wasn’t altogether terrible,” Tiffany admitted with a remembered smile. “As long as I didn’t soil my good dresses or muddy my shoes and stockings, anyhow.”

  “Mine was no different really, for soiled clothing is surely the bane of any governess worth her salt,” Alex commiserated with an understanding chuckle. “Nonetheless, I found it nearly impossible to resist the lure of a newly-formed mud puddle, especially when there was the possibility of frogs to be caught.”

  “Oh my.”

  He grinned unabashedly. “Would you be surprised to learn that I was a bit of a scamp in my younger days?”

  “You, my lord?” she queried facetiously, eyebrows raised.

  “Difficult to believe, isn’t it?” he countered, winking playfully.

  “Exceedingly.”

  As his coach pulled to the front of the queue, Alex was pleased to see that Tiffany’s mood seemed to have improved, however, once they were comfortably settled and the horses were set into motion, he watched her expression grow pensive once again.

  “Something is troubling you,” he said softly. It was both a statement and question.

  Looking up, Tiffany could see the mixture of curiosity and concern in Alex’s penetrating silver gaze. Dare she ask him about Baroness Langdon’s claims? What if they had merit? And if they did, did she really want to know, she asked herself. Yes, of course she did. Didn’t she? “I-” she began, but then faltered, unable to voice the question aloud. “It’s nothing,” she said. “A slight headache, that’s all.”

  He didn’t believe her. Studying her expression, he could almost see the internal conflict warring within her. If this was Lucinda’s doing he was going to wring her bloody neck. “Tiffany,” he prompted.

  She couldn’t lie to him. He was far too perceptive. Besides, deep down she knew that she wouldn’t have even a moment’s piece of mind until she knew the truth. “If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?” she queried hesitantly.

  Her expression was earnest, her gaze beseeching. What on earth was this about? “Yes, of course,” he agreed.

  Summoning her courage, Tiffany looked him boldly in the eye as she asked the question that had been plaguing her thoughts for the latter part of the evening. “Why do you wish to marry me?”

  He blinked in surprise. Of all the things she could have asked, he certainly hadn’t expected that. But nonetheless, he had agreed to answer her honestly, and to the extent he could without hurting her, he would. “Did you not hear me when I answered Lady Danbury’s question,” he replied softly.

  “Yes, I heard you,” she responded, dropping her gaze to her lap. “But surely there is much more to it than that.”

  “Of course there is,” he acknowledged. “Have I not proven time and again what you do to me, Tiffany? How desperately I want you?”

  “Yes, but …” she trailed off, shaking her head gently from side to side.

  But what? Was she expecting a declaration of love? Somehow he didn’t think that was what this was about, but if it was, could he give it to her? Was what he felt for Tiffany love? In all honestly, he wasn’t entirely sure. But if this wasn’t about that, if this was about something else entirely, he was dammed if he knew what it was. “But what, Tiffany?” he coaxed. “Please, tell me.”

  She hesitated for one long moment, and then slowly raised her head. “Is there another reason you want to marry me? Something that doesn’t have to do with me at all?”

  Something that didn’t have to do with her? Alex felt a sudden sense of foreboding. “What are you trying to ask me, Tiffany?”

  Just come out with it, her inner voice chided. “Did you ask me to marry you… because of the land my father owns?” There, she’d said it.

  Oh hell! “Why would you think that, Tiffany?” he asked calmly, even though he was afraid he already knew the answer.

  “Baroness Langdon suggested as much,” Tiffany admitted.

  Damn it, he was right. Alex recalled the night he’d been with Lucinda. It had been the same night he’d learned of yet another one of Melborne’s stall tactics. He’d been in a fine temper that evening and Lucinda had been all too eager to listen as he’d vented his frustration in regard to William Marlowe. God damn that spiteful bitch to the pits of hell, he thought furiously. Clearly she’d surmised that he and Tiffany’s engagement was somehow related to the land deal, and had conveyed as much to Tiffany. As a result, he was going to have to choose his next words very, very carefully in order to remain truthful and still keep Tiffany from learning about the damnable wager.

  Moving across the aisle, Alex sat down next to Tiffany. Taking her hand, he looked her squarely in the eye. “Listen to me very carefully, Tiffany,” he began, his tone earnest. “I asked you to marry me because I wanted to, because I care about you, and because I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind since the very first moment I saw you that night at the theater,” he told her honestly. “And while it’s true that your father and I have recently come to terms in regard to an ongoing business dealing, I can assure you that it has absolutely nothing to do with my feelings for you,” he continued truthfully.

  Tiffany felt the tension slowly leaving her body as she listened to Alex’s words, for she could hear the utter sincerity in his voice. If he’d suddenly professed to love her, she might have doubted him, but he hadn’t.

  Alex could see the gradual softening of Tiffany’s features. Releasing her fingers, he raised his hand to her face, running his thumb gently along her cheek. “Do you believe me?”

 
“Yes,” she whispered. “I believe you.”

  “Good,” he whispered back, and then slowly lowered his lips to hers.

  Later that night as Tiffany prepared for bed, her thoughts were once again preoccupied as she pulled her silver-plated hairbrush through her long, blonde curls. The night’s events, comprising of the drive to the opera house, the performance, Lucinda Langdon’s malevolent comments and her subsequent discussion with Alex, all intermingled within her head. Sighing contemplatively, she smoothed the last of the tangles from her hair and then set down the brush atop her vanity table. Dressed only in her cotton night rail, she rose from her seat and walked over to the widow, pushing the draperies aside. Gazing up at the crescent moon, she stood lost in thought for several minutes before finally allowing the heavy curtains to fall back into place.

  Turning to her bed, she doused the lamp that sat upon her bedside table, kicked off her slippers and then slid under the cool linen sheets, settling them over her midsection. Resting her hands atop her stomach, she idly ran her index finger along the band of her engagement ring as she tried to recall the exact words Alex had said to her earlier that night. “While it’s true that your father and I have recently come to terms in regard to an ongoing business dealing, I can assure you that it has absolutely nothing to do with my feelings for you.” It had nothing to do with his feelings for her, he’d said. The more she thought about it, the more it troubled her. Was she just being paranoid, or had Alex chosen his words with careful deliberation, not lying to her per say, but rather omitting a portion of the truth? As much as she wanted to believe that the baroness’ claims had no merit, and that Alex had been completely honest with her, there was a small part of her that still had doubts.

  Chapter 15

  “Good morning, Penrose. Is my father at home?” Tiffany asked, as she entered the front hall the following morning.