by Candace Camp
“Lord Buckminster is married?” Alexandra was surprised. He had not seemed wedded. She glanced at Penelope.
The girl was laughing. “No. She means Bucky’s mother. She is almost exactly like Bucky, except even more horse mad. As long as you ride well, she’ll like you, and if you don’t, well, she’ll just feel sorry for you and go off for a ride without you.”
“But we are getting far afield here,” Nicola declared. “Lady Exmoor will have our heads if we come back without your acceptance as one of our party tonight.”
Alexandra smiled. “I would love to, but I am afraid I must stay here and help Aunt Hortense. My mother is rather ill, you see, and needs looking after.”
“Don’t be silly, dear,” Aunt Hortense told her. “You go on to the opera. I am quite capable of looking after Rhea by myself.”
“Oh, but Grandmama invited you, as well, Miss Ward,” Penelope assured her. “But it is all right. Sebastian told Grandmama about your mother’s indisposition, and—”
“Oh, he did, did he?” So he had run to the Countess to gossip, after all. Alexandra supposed she should have known better than to hope that he would try to protect her reputation.
“Yes, but you mustn’t blame him. We had already heard all sorts of wild tales about what happened,” Penelope said. “The servants’ grapevine, you know, is the fastest transmission of news known to mankind. Mama had heard that Mrs. Ward was dead and that you had vanished. So of course Thorpe had to step in and set the record right. He told Grandmama that it was errant nonsense—you should have seen Mother’s face!” Penelope’s plain, heart-shaped face lit up at the memory, turning her almost pretty. “She was thoroughly put out.”
“What did he say?” Alexandra asked.
“That you were not gone, that he had talked to you that very morning right here in the house. He said a thief had apparently entered the house, and that Mrs. Ward must have disturbed him, for he knocked her unconscious and fled.”
Alexandra nodded, relief—and a kind of warm pleasure—spreading through her at the thought that Thorpe had covered up the scandalous incident as well as anyone could expect. It would have helped him to separate the Countess from Alexandra if he had told her about Alexandra’s night in a brothel, but he had refrained. He had protected her name. It was also obvious that he had said nothing to anyone about her mother’s mental condition before the blow.
“Mama was not pleased. She asked Thorpe if he was calling her a liar, and he said, ‘Of course not, merely ill-informed.’ That made her even madder, I think.”
“She was furious at Sebastian,” Nicola agreed. “That’s when Lady Exmoor said she thought she would ask you and your aunt to the opera this evening. She thought it would help take your mind off the ordeal.”
“That is very kind of her. But it really is impossible for both of us to leave. Mother’s servant was injured, too, and she is feeling too poorly to take care of Mother, so I’m afraid that—”
“But, no!” Penelope assured her. “Willa Everhart—you remember, the Countess’s companion—offered to come stay with your mother.”
“That is too kind. She must not.”
“She insists,” Penelope told her. “Lady Exmoor said that you must not deprive Willa of the pleasure of feeling useful. Willa, you see, is deeply grateful to the Countess, for she would be virtually penniless if it weren’t for the Countess’s support. She is always looking for some way to pay the Countess back, except that, of course, Lady Exmoor doesn’t have enough errands to occupy Willa’s time. Lady Exmoor said that you would be doing Willa a favor, really.”
“I would like to go,” Alexandra admitted.
“Then go ahead, dear,” Aunt Hortense urged her. “I will stay here and help Lady Exmoor’s companion. You know I’m not very fond of all that singing, anyway. I’m sure she and I will manage just fine.”
“There, you see?” Nicola told her triumphantly. “It’s all arranged. You must come. Lord Thorpe will be there.” She added this last statement with a roguish air, as if Sebastian’s presence would be what convinced Alexandra.
Penelope nodded eagerly. “Yes. I heard him tell Grandmama that he would be attending tonight, and he would drop by her box.”
Alexandra hesitated. It would be an awkward situation if both she and Sebastian were there. “Then perhaps I had better not. Lord Thorpe would not want—I mean, well, we are scarcely friends.”
“No, I would not call it friendship,” Nicola agreed, her blue eyes dancing. “Quite frankly, I’ve never seen Sebastian so smitten.”
“Smitten?” Alexandra repeated in disbelief. “Oh, no, I am sure you are mistaken.”
Nicola chuckled. “Not about this. Trust me, I have known Sebastian for years and years, and I have never known him to act like this about any woman.”
“Truly?” Alexandra could not quite suppress the leap her heart gave at the woman’s words.
“Yes. He’s a tough nut to crack. Believe me, untold numbers of women have tried.”
Penelope nodded. “Mother always said that Sebastian hasn’t a heart, that’s why no one’s been able to capture it.”
“It’s because of Lady Pencross, of course,” Nicola explained. “It’s not that he’s heartless, but that he cared too much. She broke his heart, and he’s never allowed anyone to get close to him since.”
Alexandra’s interest was by now thoroughly piqued. She leaned toward Nicola, saying, “Lady Pencross?”
“You haven’t heard about that?”
“I just met the man recently.”
The name Pencross sounded vaguely familiar to her, though. Then, with a jolt, Alexandra remembered. That had been the name of the woman at the ball who had come up to her and made the peculiar comments about Sebastian. She remembered Sebastian’s stiff manner and brief words with the woman. She had wondered at the time what had prompted him to act that way.
“He wouldn’t be likely to talk about her,” Nicola went on. “When Sebastian was young, only eighteen or so, he fell madly in love with Lord Pencross’s wife, Barbara. She was about ten years older than he, but a beautiful woman. She still is, actually, although she must be in her forties by now. Anyway, Sebastian met her and fell in love with her. They had a wild, passionate affair. Everyone knew about it—it was quite the scandal of the Season. Sebastian even called a man out in defense of her honor.”
“He fought a duel?”
Nicola nodded. “Yes. Bucky was his second, so I know it’s true. Needless to say, Sebastian’s family was terribly embarrassed by the whole thing. Bucky says that Sebastian’s father called him home and told him he was a disgrace to the family, and he cut off his allowance until he came to his senses. Sebastian was furious and hurt. His family stopped speaking to him—including his mother and sisters. He still hasn’t forgiven them for it. He provides for them, of course, but he hardly ever goes home.”
“What happened with Lady Pencross?” Alexandra asked, too enthralled to bother to hide her interest.
“Well, the rumor is that Sebastian wanted her to run away with him, to leave the country and the scandal, and go to India.”
“He made the mistake, you see,” Penelope added, “of thinking that Lady Pencross loved him as much as he loved her. But she was merely entertaining herself with a younger man. I heard she laughed in his face when he suggested giving up her money and position as Lord Pencross’s wife to go live in love and poverty in India with Sebastian.”
“She refused him?”
Nicola nodded. “He was terribly disillusioned. He went off to India by himself and made his fortune. I don’t think he would have come back except that his father died, and he had to assume the title.”
“I see.” Alexandra thought that she did indeed see. It made sense to her now that Thorpe had been so quick to believe the worst of her. The woman he had loved when he was young had proven faithless, her love false. It would be hard for him to trust any woman, easy to be suspicious and hard.
“He hasn’t loved a wo
man since,” Penelope added. “It’s very romantic, but sad, don’t you think?”
“Yes, I do.” Alexandra paused, thinking. “What happened to Lady Pencross?”
“It was a scandal, of course, but eventually it subsided. She is accepted by most, though not the high sticklers, of course. I have seen her several times this Season. Her husband is much older than she, and he is in ill health. But she is not at his bedside. He is back on the family estate, and she is here, doing the social rounds.”
“She sounds a heartless sort.”
Nicola nodded. “I believe she is. But I have little connection to her. She travels in a different set, and I see her only at very large balls.”
“Or at the opera or a play,” Penelope added.
“Really?”
“Yes. I suppose we might even see her tonight.”
Alexandra’s interest was thoroughly kindled. She would like very much to see this woman again, now that she knew who she was. She had not been paying enough attention the first time.
“I’ll point her out to you if I see her,” Nicola told Alexandra shrewdly.
Their talk drifted away from the topic of Sebastian and his former love, but Alexandra’s thoughts kept returning to it, and she paid only partial attention to what the others were saying. The conversation moved to various activities that were taking place in London. The Season was in full swing, and the June weather was glorious, prompting many an outing. Nicola and Penelope, it seemed, were going to a balloon ascension in a few days, and they urged Alexandra to come with them.
“They’re terribly exciting, I hear,” Penelope said. “I have never been to one before. Mother thinks that they are vulgar spectacles, but she finally relented this time. Please say you’ll come.”
“It’s to be a race of some sort,” Nicola added. “The one who lands farthest away from London wins. It’s quite something to see.”
“Bucky says balloons are the conveyances of the future,” Penelope attested, her eyes alight.
“Is Lord Buckminster to be one of the party, too?” Alexandra asked, thinking once again that Penelope seemed enamored of the man.
“No, but I am sure that we will meet him there. Bucky rarely misses these ascensions,” Nicola said, glancing at Penelope significantly. The color in Penelope’s cheeks rose.
“Well, I could hardly miss it, could I?” Alexandra said. “I should love to accompany you.”
“Good. Then it’s settled.”
They made a few arrangements for that evening, and Nicola and Penelope took their leave. Aunt Hortense rose from her chair.
“Well,” she said, “they seem like nice girls.”
“Yes,” Alexandra agreed absently. “I’m glad you like them.”
“Odd to think that Penelope might be your cousin.”
Alexandra turned toward her aunt, startled by her words. “Why, yes, I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it. But if the Countess is correct…” Alexandra’s voice trailed off. “Oh, Aunt Hortense! I feel so strange. I scarcely know who I am any longer! All my life I have been so sure of myself, so confident in the knowledge that I was a Ward, that you were my family. Now all that may be false.”
“But it hasn’t changed the essentials,” Aunt Hortense pointed out firmly. “Whether your last name is Ward or Exmoor—”
“Montford,” Alexandra explained. “I think that Exmoor is a title.”
“Whatever it is.” Aunt Hortense waved that aside. “You are still you. Exactly the same person. With the same strengths and weaknesses, the same beliefs.”
“I know, Auntie, but still…I feel so unsettled. I wish I could learn the truth, one way or the other.”
“Hopefully you will, dear. If Rhea comes to, she could clear it all up.”
Alexandra did not respond. She had little faith in Rhea being able to tell them anything.
THE COUNTESS’S CARRIAGE WAS a large, old-fashioned, elegant affair, a golden coat of arms painted on its gleaming black side. Lord Buckminster, who was riding a horse beside the carriage, dismounted, tossed his reins to a liveried groom and went to hand Alexandra into the carriage.
“Miss Ward,” he said, grinning jovially. “Jolly good to see you again. I must say, you look a picture tonight.”
Alexandra had taken some care with her looks, choosing a deep blue gown that she thought offset her coloring well and exposing as much of her white bosom as would be considered proper in polite society. Her hair was upswept in a mass of curls, pinned here and there with small white rosebuds. One long curl fell carelessly over her shoulder and trailed onto the creamy expanse of her chest, brushing against the top of her breast when she moved. Whatever Lord Thorpe might feel for her, she was determined that there be some desire intermingled with it.
Willa Everhart had arrived at their house an hour ago and, despite her constant flow of chatter, seemed to have Rhea’s sickroom well in hand. Alexandra had left Willa sitting with her mother and Aunt Hortense in her room, ready to help should any crisis arise. So Alexandra was able to leave the house without worry and climb into the Countess’s carriage.
The Countess leaned forward to take Alexandra’s hand and patted the seat next to her, indicating that Alexandra should sit beside her. The Countess seemed in good spirits, her color high and her blue eyes shining. Her gleaming white hair contrasted elegantly with her gown of deep purple satin accented by black lace. Penelope, as usual, looked faintly dowdy in a white dress that was overly fussy. Lady Ursula—for Alexandra had no doubt that it was Penelope’s mother who dictated her clothes—dressed the young woman in a girlish way that was entirely unsuitable for Penelope’s looks, Alexandra thought. White with ruffles and pink bows might do for a cotton-candy sort of miss, but ruffles and bows looked silly on Penelope, and the white color merely washed out her already pale skin.
Nicola sat beside Penelope, looking, as she always did, both beautiful and elegant, with her blond hair and dark blue eyes. She was dressed in a deceptively simple sea-green gown that Alexandra could see at a glance must have come from one of the best modistes. She was a contrast of sophistication and beauty to Penelope, and Alexandra wondered why some of her elegant style had never rubbed off on Penelope.
They drove to the opera, making social chitchat along the way. None of the women referred to the recent trouble Alexandra had gone through, for which she was grateful. It would be grand, she thought, to forget all about it for a while.
Inside the opera house, they made their way toward the Countess’s luxurious box. It was something like a royal procession, Alexandra thought, with the Countess nodding politely to acquaintances, giving some favored person a little wave or even, as she did with one dumpy, middle-aged woman, pausing to press her hand and murmur a pleasant greeting. Alexandra watched the older woman’s tall, poised figure in admiration. The Countess, she thought, was exactly what a real lady should be.
They stopped along the way, and Nicola touched a finger to Alexandra’s arm and leaned closer to murmur, “There is Lady Pencross. In the green, over by the potted plant.”
Alexandra looked quickly in the direction of Nicola’s gaze. It was, indeed, the small beauty who had approached Alexandra at the ball. She was smiling at the man standing in front of her, her lips curved in a subtle, mysterious way that hinted at delightful secrets. Alexandra felt a thrust of pure, bitter jealousy. This, then, was the one woman whom Sebastian had loved!
Lady Pencross’s gaze slid to Alexandra and Nicola. She nodded faintly to Nicola, then gave Alexandra a second, measuring look. No expression marred her lovely features until she turned back to the gentleman in front of her.
“A completely vain woman,’ Nicola said contemptuously. “She looks much younger than she is, I have to admit. They say it’s because she rarely smiles or frowns. Emotions are too wrinkle-inducing, you see.”
Alexandra smiled. “I take it you don’t like the woman.”
Nicola curled up one corner of her mouth. “Love is so rare. I cannot abide someone
who could throw it away as she did.”
A shadow touched Nicola’s eyes, turning them a midnight-blue, then was gone. “Most women would give anything to have a man love them the way it is said that Sebastian did. And he is a good man, for all his determinedly misanthropic ways. I believe that he is cynical because he is a disillusioned romantic. That romantic nature will come out again.” She cast a sideways glance at Alexandra, a glance in which there was more than a little curiosity.
It was then that Alexandra saw Sebastian. He was standing some distance down the wide corridor, leaning negligently against the wall. His eyes had fallen on the Countess, and he was looking around searchingly. He saw Alexandra, and he straightened, levering himself away from the wall.
Alexandra stopped, her eyes locking with his. Heat spread through her as suddenly she recalled the feeling of his hard body against hers the other night, the insistent pulse of his desire. He began to walk toward her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ALEXANDRA BLUSHED AND GLANCED quickly away from Sebastian, only to meet Nicola’s speculative gaze.
“You care for him, don’t you?” Nicola asked.
“Don’t be absurd,” Alexandra replied gamely. “I think he is an odious creature, and he thinks even worse of me.”
“I have never known Sebastian to introduce a woman to the Countess,” Nicola said significantly. “And why did he go rushing over to your house when your mother was attacked?”
“My aunt sent for him,” Alexandra replied. “She didn’t know anyone else to turn to.”
“That may be, but I have to point out that Sebastian is not known for flying to anyone’s aid, whether they are strangers to London or not.”
