by CJ Archer
"Northbridge!" Twickenham bellowed. He cleared his throat and stretched his neck, causing the loose skin of his jowls to tighten above his neckcloth. "No harm done. Now excuse me, I can't linger. Good day gentlemen."
He hurried off, followed by the onlookers. Alex and North went in the other direction, and Alex for one was glad to get away. Lord Twickenham was the second last person he wanted to see, beaten to the prime position only by his wife. He felt like he was being haunted by Twickenhams of late. It was nothing less than he deserved, he supposed.
"You were deliberately riling him, weren't you?" Alex said to North. His friend might act the fool sometimes but he wasn't stupid. That scene had been one of his best performances.
"I don't trust him." Northbridge removed his hat, rubbed a hand through his curls and slapped it back on his head. "He happened to come by at precisely the right moment, letting that oaf get away."
Alex stopped and stared at him. "You think he hired him to attack me?" He shook his head and started walking again. "And I suppose you think he was the one who tried to run me down too."
"He might be. It's certainly a possibility."
"Why?"
"Jealousy. You were his wife's lover."
"They had an understanding." North scoffed and Alex had to admit it sounded pathetic. What gentleman in his right mind would willingly allow his beautiful wife to stray? "And anyway, Louisa and I are no longer lovers."
"Perhaps he doesn't know that." North shrugged. "It's merely a possibility."
It was, but only a thin one. Twickenham was a weak-willed man and Alex couldn't see him trying to murder anyone. Besides, it didn't explain why the attacker seemed familiar. Despite their close proximity, Alex hadn't seen the man's face. All he could say for certain was that he was tall, powerfully-built and had brown hair.
"Did you get a good look at him?" he asked.
North shook his head. "Not really. Brown hair, average features. He had one of those faces that could belong to anyone. He was damned big though. Looks like he knows how to use his fists too." He shot a sideways glance at Alex and winced. "At least your bloody nose will give that nurse of yours something to do. Perhaps now she'll earn her keep."
"She does earn her keep," Alex growled, swiping at his nose again. It had stopped bleeding but he must look a mess if the stares he received were anything to go by. "And you'll not tell her or my family about this. Understand? None of your mischief-making, North. Got everyone in an unnecessary panic last time."
"Unnecessary?" Northbridge barked out a harsh laugh. "You think warning the people you live with that someone is trying to kill you is unnecessary? Christ, Redcliff, but you're pig-headed. I only wish I'd told your brother too."
"Do that and I'll lay you flat."
"I'd like to see you try."
Alex grunted. "I don't want to worry the women. Philly's flighty enough as it is and Aunt Harry's too old to be burdened with that sort of information."
"What about the Appleby nurse? She seems the sensible sort."
"She is but telling her would achieve nothing. She can't protect herself let alone me. Not since I took away her pistol."
North chuckled. "I like her more and more. Are you sure I can't have her?"
"You're too much of a dandy for her tastes." Alex laughed out loud until he caught the edge of his friend's sharp glare.
"What did she say about you taking away her pistol?"
Alex shrugged. "She was angry at first but she's not said anything since. I think she's become resigned to the fact she must live by my rules when in my house."
It was North's turn to laugh out loud. "You don't know much about women, Redcliff." He slapped Alex on the back. "Never mind. It'll be fun watching you learn the hard way."
Alex rolled his eyes. "The day I take advice about women from you will be the day you are happily married."
North screwed up his nose. "Now there's a gruesome thought." He checked his reflection in the bow window of a tobacconist and readjusted his hat. "I'll walk you home to your apple blossom, but a word of advice my friend. You might want to check under her pillow next time you happen to be in her room."
"You're the fool for thinking a London gun maker would sell a weapon to a woman," Alex said. North's answer was a dismissive wave.
They didn't speak for the remainder of the journey. Alex was too distracted looking out for his attacker and thinking about getting into Georgiana's room to follow his friend's advice. Of course that led to contemplating ways of getting her into bed.
The walk home was much too short.
***
"Hold still," Georgiana said. She pressed the cloth soaked in calendula oil to the bridge of Redcliff's nose and inspected the purplish skin around his eyes. "How did it happen?"
"A footpad got in a lucky punch." He began to undo his waistcoat, having already relinquished his blood-stained coat, neckcloth and collar to Trent. The valet had whisked the garments away, leaving Georgiana and Redcliff alone in the master bedroom.
She stood before a seated Redcliff and gingerly touched his cheek. No facial bones appeared to be broken and his nose was still straight. She traced the shadow of his jaw, not because she needed to but because she liked the feel of his skin. She brushed a fingertip across his top lip, leaving behind a curving smile in response. If she leaned forward, just a little, she could replace her finger with her own lips and kiss away his pain.
But that was madness and she'd better remember her place or suffer the consequences.
"Don't stop," he said when she pulled away.
"I was checking for damage and now I'm finished."
"Of course you were."
She held the cloth at arm's length. "Hold this to your nose. It will help with the swelling."
"I prefer you to do it." He tossed the waistcoat onto the bed and regarded her. "Thank you for tending to me." He covered her hand with his. Despite her determination not to be affected by him, the simple touch had her wanting more. "You're very gentle."
She relinquished the cloth to him and took a step back. "So it was a footpad? In the middle of the day?" she said, clutching at a sensible thought before the non-sensible ones chased them all away. "In St. James's Street? That's very stupid of him. I assume he didn't steal anything from your person?"
"He did not. Northbridge was with me and together we foiled him. Pity we couldn't detain him." He told her how they'd tried but had been thwarted by the unfortunate timing of Lord Twickenham no less.
The coincidence struck Georgiana like a body blow. She felt for the chair behind her then sat heavily and stared at him. "Lord Twickenham?"
"Yes," he said, puffy eyes narrowing. "Why such interest?"
She shrugged. She couldn't tell him she was alarmed by Twickenham's arrival right at the crucial moment, thereby allowing the attacker to escape. To do so would mean admitting she knew about the death of his friend, Cottesloe, and his affair with Lady Twickenham—and the possibility one or both of the Twickenhams were trying to kill him. If he found out the extent of her knowledge, he might close up even tighter and she'd have even less chance of discovering his secrets.
"Was Lord Twickenham all right?" she asked instead. "Was he hurt?"
"Only his pride."
"And Lord Northbridge?"
"North has an uncanny ability to get out of scrapes with nothing worse than a few specks of dust on his coat. Of course he thinks that's the end of the world."
She forced a smiled and tried not to think about what might have happened if Redcliff had been alone. She had no doubt he could defend himself quite adequately, but it was a comfort to know he had a capable friend to help him.
Redcliff's face grew serious and he caught her hand. She couldn't back away. His thumb rubbed her knuckles, over and over as if he would wear them down. His gaze held her still just as much as his hand and she felt herself blooming beneath its ferocity, like a daisy on the first warm day of spring.
He lowered the calendula-soaked clot
h to his lap and took her hand in both of his. "I think you're worried for me."
"Yes," she whispered. "Of course I am." Of course, of course, of course. He was infuriating, rude, often disagreeable...and yet he had a way of making her feel special. To have this man, this handsome, powerful and desirable man give her his devoted attention was heady indeed. What woman in her position wouldn't be concerned for his welfare?
The corners of his mouth curved into a slow smile and he brought her hand to his lips.
A brisk knock on the door halted the progress. He sighed. Georgiana hurriedly withdrew her hand.
"Alexander!" It was Lady Weatherby.
Georgiana busied herself with the contents of her medical bag while Redcliff opened the door to his aunt and sister.
"Good lord!" Lady Weatherby tapped the end of her parasol on the floor. "We just arrived home and Worth told us you'd been involved in another incident." She lifted the veil covering her eyes and scrutinized his nose. "What happened this time?"
"Is that blood?" Phillippa said, inspecting his shirt cuff. "Was it another runaway carriage? Or were you fighting." She gasped and her eyes widened. "You were, weren't you? Staunton said you're quite the pugilist. Did you give the other fellow a bloody nose too? Or did you break his arm? Or perhaps you carry a dagger on your person and—."
"Phillippa!" Lady Weatherby ushered her niece into the room and shut the door. "Good afternoon, Miss Appleby," she said coolly. "Now, Alexander, tell us what happened. And spare us the gruesome details."
Phillippa clicked her tongue in disappointment.
Redcliff told them everything but if Lady Weatherby thought it odd that Lord Twickenham was responsible for the footpad getting away then she didn't say.
"How brave Lord Northbridge is." Lady Weatherby touched Phillippa's sleeve. "And to think he's an earl too."
"You forgot to mention rich," Redcliff said, meeting his aunt's level gaze with a challenging one of his own.
"And good with horses," Phillippa added. "I would very much like to ride that beautiful black creature he was exercising yesterday."
"Over my dead body," Redcliff snapped.
"Don't tempt me," his aunt said. Everyone stared at her but she turned her attention to Georgiana. "It would seem Alexander is fortunate to already have a nurse on hand. I trust there is no permanent damage, Miss Appleby?"
"None."
"And the bruising and swelling? How long will it take to fade?"
"Several days."
Lady Weatherby tapped her parasol on the floor in time with her clicking tongue. "Several days! And at this crucial time too." She rounded on Redcliff who regarded her with a slightly amused tilt to his mouth. "If I find out that you did this on purpose to get out of your obligations—."
"Aunt! That is rather extreme, don't you think? Even for me."
She sniffed and leaned heavily on her parasol. "It wouldn't work anyway. Unless your nurse has any vigorous objections, I insist you join us. We have Lady Bromley's musical soirée tonight and there'll be a sore need for single young men. There always is at Lady Bromley's parties."
Redcliff opened his mouth but Georgiana got in first. "I have no objections." She smiled at him. He scowled back at her.
"Is Lord Northbridge going?" Phillippa asked.
"Most likely," Redcliff said, turning his full attention on his sister. "He goes to everything. Why?"
She shrugged. "Because if he's going, you'll have at least one man to talk to."
"Alexander isn't there to talk to men," Lady Weatherby said, walking back to the door. "It's a pity you'll have to go about looking like that, Alexander, but it can't be helped. Although I dare say there will be some silly girls of the party who'll find your bruises fascinating."
"Particularly if you regale them with how you fought off a footpad," Phillippa said. "Was he very big?"
"Huge," Redcliff said, chucking his sister under her chin.
"Thrilling!" She clapped her hands and bounced on her toes. "Perhaps it would be best not to mention Lord Northbridge's involvement though. It's not quite so romantic having him help you."
"Poor North. I'd hate not to give him some of the credit." He tugged his lower lip. "Indeed, let's talk up his role. We can tell all the ladies how he saved me and beat the footpad black and blue single-handedly. They'll never look at him the same again."
Georgiana detected a mischievous gleam in his eyes and smiled to herself. Poor Lord Northbridge, indeed. He would have every young lady swooning at the soirée. She had a feeling it was something he intensely disliked, despite appearances.
"Oh, we couldn't do that," Phillippa said, all seriousness. "They'd never believe Lord Northbridge capable of hitting someone. Everyone knows how he hates to do anything requiring effort. Besides, fighting would mean getting dirty."
Redcliff laughed. "You don't remember him very well at all, do you?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
Lady Weatherby stalked passed them to the door. "Come along, Phillippa. Alexander needs to rest. We should leave him alone. All of us," she added with a pointed glance at Georgiana.
"Not unless he wants to be alone," Georgiana said. "He's quite fit and healthy, just a little bruised. It's really nothing."
"Doesn't feel like nothing," Redcliff said with a pout in her direction.
Phillippa's bouncing grew more pronounced. "Then you can still go riding this afternoon, Alex. Wonderful!"
"I'm not sure about riding," Georgiana said. "It's difficult to tell how much damage has actually been done and the jarring movement might unsettle the delicate structure of the facial bones."
"Delicate? My brother?" Phillippa snorted a laugh. "Oh no, Miss Appleby, Alex is as strong as an ox. If we promise to go no faster than a trot, will you let him go? Pleeeease," she said, grasping Georgiana's hand.
Georgiana looked to Redcliff. He cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms, waiting. "No faster than a walk," she said.
"Not even a trot?"
"No."
Phillippa's bouncing ceased as suddenly as it had begun and she sighed. "Very well. You're still coming with us aren't you, Miss Appleby?"
Lady Weatherby's grip twisted around the handle of her parasol. "That wouldn't be—."
"Of course she is," Redcliff said. He put a hand to his aunt's back and steered her out the door. "Don't fret, Aunt, I'll be quite safe."
"Alexander! Don't vex me so. You know my nerves aren't strong."
"Nonsense. Your nerves are stronger than mine. Now, you ladies had best go and change into your riding habits."
"I don't have a riding habit," Georgiana said, attempting to rein in the conversation which had galloped on without her. How had she ended up agreeing to the outing? "Perhaps I'll stay here after all."
"You can borrow one of mine," Phillippa said brightly. "We are of a size."
"There. All settled." Redcliff picked up Georgiana's medical bag and handed it to her.
She left with Phillippa and Lady Weatherby. So much for keeping their relationship one of physician and patient. It would seem she couldn't avoid him, no matter how much she wanted to.
***
Alex was determined to keep a close watch on Phillippa this time. It was decidedly difficult with the delightful distraction of Georgiana beside him riding Starlight, the gentlest horse in his stable and dressed in his sister's second favorite riding habit of pale blue cambric with braided gold epaulettes on the jacket and matching gold braiding half way up the sleeves. Phillippa had insisted Georgiana complete the outfit with a cravat of white muslin, tall hat adorned with ribbons and feathers of the same shade as the habit, then announced she looked very handsome. Alex thought Georgiana had never looked more feminine. Out of her plain gowns, she was truly a beauty.
Unfortunately he wasn't the only one to think so. Almost every gentleman of his acquaintance happened to be out riding and all of them stopped to talk or wanted to join them. After they'd enquired about his black eyes and listened to his brief account o
f what had transpired in the lane off St. James's Street, they invariably turned their attention to one or both of the women. Some of his younger friends preferred to speak to Philly but most positioned their horses alongside Georgiana and there they stayed. It wouldn't have been a problem except that she engaged them all in conversation, and not the polite, teeth-grinding sort but clever and entertaining.
Alex eventually brushed the gentlemen off when Starlight grew skittish with so many horses crowding around. He reached down and held the bridle until the mare resumed her plodding pace.
"All right?" he asked Georgiana.
She nodded. "Thank you for inviting me. I'm quite enjoying myself." Indeed she did appear refreshed. Color infused her cheeks, her eyes sparkled like a lake in the sunshine and that sensual, kissable mouth flirted with a smile. He couldn't take his gaze off her. She looked like a goddess, one who belonged on the horse wearing such an elegant outfit. "Although I'll be glad when my feet are firmly on the ground once more," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "As lovely as this horse is, she grew quite frightened just now."
"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you."
At least he could admire her and not worry about Phillippa. If anyone could control a nervous horse it was his sister. He looked around to check on her.
She was gone.
CHAPTER 10
"Where's Philly?" Alex said to no one in particular. "Phillippa!" He scanned the faces of the nearby riders but she wasn't among them. Where the devil had she got to this time? "Phillippa!"
"She was here only a moment ago," Georgiana said. "I heard her voice."
"I'll check behind those trees." He pointed to a thick stand of weeping willows nearby. "If you wouldn't mind staying here in case she returns, Miss Appleby, I would be most obliged."
She nodded but her gaze was already darting around the scenery.
When he found Philly he was going to throttle her until she understood she could not run off. Not in Hyde Park. It was acre upon acre of people and coaches, shadowy corners and a deep lake. Philly couldn't swim. And she was an innocent when it came to the threats posed by some men...
