Kit made his way back to Mr. Burke, whose arms were laden with wine bottles. “May I help you?” he asked breathlessly, as the pressure in his chest tightened.
“I have them secure, sir.”
Kit gripped the brandy and hastily made his way back to the stone steps that led up to the kitchen. He took a deep breath and felt a trickle of sweat run down between his shoulder blades. He checked the time and, though it was still more than two hours before his guests were to arrive, he went upstairs to bathe. In his bedchamber, he saw that the valet had laid out his evening clothes. He set the two bottles of brandy on his bedside table, then opened the drawer and took out the small box that held his mother’s ring.
As he looked down at it, his father’s words echoed in his head: I spoke with Dottie Longford, and we reached an understanding about a betrothal between you and Alexandra. I think we should announce it tonight at the hunt dinner. You may present her with your mother’s diamond and sapphire ring.
“Are you satisfied, Father? This marriage is what you always wanted; what you planned for me!” Kit ground out through clenched teeth. “Even this bloody ring was your choice!” He flung the ring box on the table beside the brandy. “This marriage was the reason we argued the day of the fatal shooting. Your death brought an end to your plans for me. That day I won, and you lost, Father!”
Kit unfastened his tight neckcloth and stripped off his shirt. It was as if Henry Hatton would not be denied. He felt his father reaching out from beyond the grave to bend him to his will. There was no way out of the trap. When he married Alex, his father would win! Kit twisted the cork from the nearest bottle and lifted the brandy to his lips.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Two hours later, Mr. Burke knocked on the door of the Grange. When Nicholas saw his worried demeanor—a sharp contrast from his usually calm, capable manner—he knew something was amiss. “Come in, Mr. Burke.”
“Sir, perhaps you know that his lordship planned a dinner party for this evening?” Burke began tentatively.
“No, I wasn’t aware of it, Mr. Burke. I’ve been too busy to keep abreast of my twin’s plans.”
“All is in readiness, sir, and the guests will start arriving any moment … but … Lord Hatton is under the weather.”
“Kit’s drinking is nothing new. You’ll simply have to make his excuses to the guests, Mr. Burke. You and I are well versed in making excuses for him.”
“Sir, you cannot be aware that this is a very special evening. The guests are Lady Longford and Lord Staines, the Hardings, Rupert and the viscountess. Lord Hatton planned this intimate family gathering as an engagement dinner for Mistress Alexandra.”
Nick felt his heart skip a beat. Did Alex know about this, or was Kit about to spring a surprise upon her? “I’d better come and speak with him, Mr. Burke.” When he saw Burke’s doubtful look he added, “Perhaps douse his head in cold water.”
As they passed the dinning room, Nick caught the scent of flowers and the gleam of crystal and silver against damask. The air was redolent with the delicious aromas of roasting lamb, mint sauce, and piquantly spiced cherries flambée. They ascended to the third floor, then down the east wing to Kit’s chamber.
Nick found his twin lying on the floor beside two empty brandy bottles. “I’m afraid it’s beyond the cold-water stage, Mr. Burke.”
“Yes, sir,” he said quietly. “The dinner needs a host.”
“Oh, no, don’t look at me!”
“No one need ever know; you are Lord Hatton’s only hope, sir. It pains me to think of his disgrace and Mistress Alexandra’s disappointment. You and I know that she is the rightful future Lady Hatton … This ought to be one of the happiest nights of her life.” Burke looked into Nick’s clear gray eyes. “The guests should start arriving any time, sir. I’ll get you hot water so you may shave.”
Nick’s resolution wavered as he thought of Alexandra. He cared about her happiness as much as he cared for his own. She had been brought up to believe that she would become Lady Hatton, and if that was what she wanted, then he wanted it too.
He had misgivings about Kit making her a worthy husband, but he admitted that he would think the same of any other man. If the choice of a husband for Alex was up to him, he would selfishly choose himself. But the decision was not his; the decision was hers alone. He acknowledged that if she married Kit, it would not simply bring her a title, it would bring her Hatton Hall with all its wealth and property. The thought that it would be hers to pass on to her children seemed right and brought him a sense of satisfaction. Mr. Burke is right; when a lady becomes engaged, it should be one of the happiest nights of her life!
Alexandra sat at her dressing table while Sara pinned up her now long tresses in fashionable swirls; red-gold tendrils decorated her temples and the nape of her neck. She was wearing her oldest yet most feminine gown of palest blush pink. The skirt was designed from chiffon scarves, whose points floated when she moved. Around her neck she wore a single strand of tiny seed pearls.
Alex picked up the invitation and traced the intricate swirls of the Celtic pattern with the tip of her finger. It dawned on her that the design Christopher had painted was a marriage knot! It told her that tonight he would again press her to marry him, this time in public, and she was still not ready to give him an answer.
“Why, Sara, you’ve turned her into an innocent debutante; how did you manage such a feat?”
Alex gave her grandmother a wistful smile. “And you look like an extremely wealthy dowager in that lovely silvery-gray gown. However did you manage to find a wig to match it so exactly?”
“This isn’t a wig; it’s my natural hair, you cheeky young monkey. Neville is here; he’s brought the closed carriage so we shan’t be blown to bits. Do drag yourself from the glass, darling; it’s too late to do anything about your virginal look now.”
“I’ll be right down. I’m just going to show Mother.”
Alex and Sara moved down the hall to Margaret’s bedchamber.
The eyes of the woman in the bed filled with tears, but they were happy tears. “You get your great beauty from your grandmother, Alexandra. I can feel magic in the air tonight.”
Alex blew Margaret a kiss and hurried down to the waiting berline coach for the short drive to Hatton Hall. When it drew up in the courtyard, they saw that the other guests had already alighted from their carriages and were heading to the front door of the hall. “As it should be—the best for last,” Dottie declared as she accepted help from Neville.
The first guests were greeted by Mr. Burke, who took the ladies’ wraps and showed them into the drawing room, which was beautifully lit by scented candles. Their host turned at the same moment that Alexandra came into the room. Their eyes met, and Alexandra’s breath caught in her throat; in his formal evening clothes, Christopher Hatton was an arresting figure. He seemed taller, darker, more commanding than other men. He seemed totally different from the Kit she knew. Tonight he looked so much like Nick, he set her pulse racing. Alex watched with fascination as he easily took charge of his guests. He singled out Dottie first, bringing her hand to his lips. He murmured something outrageous for her ears alone and won her approval in a heartbeat. He turned to Annabelle. “Lady Harding, would you help pour us all champagne?” Alex watched her preen at being chosen unofficial hostess.
Alex saw him bow before a frozen-faced Olivia. He placed an affectionate hand on Rupert’s shoulder. “There is no need for me to tell you that you chose the most worthy man in England.” Alex saw Olivia begin to thaw. He gave a friendly nod to Harry, shook Lord Harding’s hand, and murmured confidentially, “You’ll find whiskey in the library, my lord.”
He took Lord Staines’s hand between both of his in a heartfelt gesture. “I am pleased to see you looking so robust, my lord.” Alex watched him listen attentively as Neville spoke of his recent illness and gave Dottie credit for his complete recovery.
When their host saw that everyone had been served champagne, he turned his
full attention upon Alexandra. Without taking his eyes from her, he said, “I would like everyone to join me in a toast to Alexandra, my guest of honor. She and I have been devoted friends since we were children. I have watched her grow into the loveliest of ladies, and it is my dearest hope that our friendship will deepen and continue forever.” He raised his glass. “To Alexandra.” His words were so heartfelt that Alex thought it could have been Nick who was speaking. How could she have missed this very attractive side of Kit before?
The genuine affection he felt for her was perceptible to everyone in the room, especially Alex. His words were tangible; she felt them touch her, as warmly as his glance caressed her. Fleetingly, she wondered if her obsession with Nicholas had blinded her to Christopher’s innate charm.
Amazed, she watched his deft touch at play with his other guests. He held them in the palm of his hand with an easy camaraderie that made the atmosphere pleasant and encouraged them to converse with one another in a civilized manner. He then again turned his undivided attention upon her, making her feel special. Kit’s words and actions were so like Nick’s, she was spellbound.
When dinner was announced, he ushered them all into the dining room and seated Alexandra beside him at the head of the table. The name cards placed the other three couples opposite each other, with young Harry Harding at the foot of the table. Alex smiled inwardly at the clever arrangement. Neville Staines, who thought the world of her, sat on her left, while Dottie took it as a compliment to be seated on the host’s right.
The food was delicious; the chosen wines complemented each successive course, and Mr. Burke’s service was impeccable. The conversation was congenial, covering a score of topics which they all lively debated. Alexandra saw clearly that this was due to the adroit skills of her dinner partner. The guests were all enjoying their dessert when their host, as if by design, introduced a topic upon which none of them agreed: politics.
Alexandra saw her partner smile as he plucked a blush-pink rose from the table arrangement. He presented it to her, then stood and pulled back her chair. “I am sure you will all excuse us.” He slipped a powerful arm about her waist and swept her from the dining room. When they reached the door, his other arm slipped beneath her knees. He lifted her against his heart and carried her outside. “There’s something I want you to see, Alex.”
“We can’t just leave,” she protested breathlessly.
“Of course we can. They are talking politics, and soon their arguments will become so heated they won’t even notice that we have left. My obligation as host is to make certain my guests enjoy themselves. Now they are doing so, at the top of their lungs, and my duty has been fulfilled. My sole responsibility now is to focus on you.”
His hypnotic words enchanted her. Tonight he spoke and acted so much like Nick, she was enthralled. Alex could feel the hard muscles of his powerful arms through the thin material of her gown, and she experienced a tingle of excitement. She lifted the rose and breathed in its fragrance, then lifted her lashes and looked into his shadowed gray eyes. “What is it you want me to see?”
“I want you to watch the moon as it rises above the lake. Alex, if I had my way, I would carry you out to see the moon rise every night. It rises pale at first, then as it sails higher, the sky turns into dark velvet, and the moonlight touches Hatton with a silver-edged magic.”
His words were so romantic, her breath caught in her throat. She brushed the petals of the rose over the shadowed cleft in his chin, and he bent his head to brush his lips softly over hers. “As darkness falls, the lingering warmth from the departed sun fills the air with the fragrance of lilies, and roses, and night-scented stocks. Their loveliness always reminds me of you.” He set her feet to the lawn and clasped her hand, enfolding his fingers around hers. A haunting call of a night heron came from the lake. “Can you feel the mystic power of the water drawing us closer? Come with me, Alex.”
His voice, low in the dark, throbbed along her spine. His romantic words, reminding her so much of Nick, mesmerized her. As they strolled toward the lake, hand-clasped, Alex was surprised at the pleasure his touch brought her. His hand felt strong and protective, and his fingers curling about hers made her aware of their possessiveness. His presence silently overwhelmed her, as if he wove a spell about her that deliberately heightened her senses. She became acutely aware of the flutter of her gown against her legs, and against his legs too, as they moved together through the moonlight. She felt the soft night air upon her skin and breathed in the intoxicating perfume of the flowers. It seemed as if Christopher had created the romantic atmosphere for her alone, and Alex had never felt more feminine than she did tonight. She leaned her head into his shoulder, savoring the moment. “You have the mystic power to draw me closer.”
As Nick looked down at her, he saw how small she was beside him, and a wave of protectiveness washed over him. Her beauty was so delicate and luminous in the moonlight that it made his heart ache with tenderness. When they reached the edge of the lake, the familiar wooden punt beckoned to them. She made no protest when he picked her up and carried her into the small boat then set her down beside him.
Alex sighed as he rowed them out onto the lake and ripples moved out in widening circles. “Hatton must be the loveliest place in all England. To know that it has been here for almost two centuries must make you feel so proud.”
“I love it with all my heart and soul.”
His voice, low and passionate, sent a thrill shivering down her spine. A woman would give much to be loved with such deep devotion.
“Alex, could you learn to love it?”
“I already love it, have always loved it.”
“I want to give you the moon and the stars!”
She pointed to their glittering reflection in the water. “Tonight, you have given them to me.”
“Look at me, Alex, while I tell you what is in my heart.” He brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek with reverence. “I desire no other lady but you to be Lady Hatton, the châtelaine of Hatton Hall. I want its beauty and permanence to wrap its strength about you and keep you secure. I want to see your children running and laughing across Hatton’s lawns. Then I want it passed down to your grandchildren, and I hope the future generations cherish it with the same deep and abiding passion that I feel.”
Alex knew that he was baring his heart to her. She realized too that he wasn’t just speaking of his feelings for Hatton. He was making it plain that he also cherished her with a deep and abiding passion. He was telling her that he loved her! The magic spell he wove around them was so perfect, she forgot altogether that she was with Kit.
He reached into his pocket and took out a small box. When he lifted the lid, the moonlight glinted off the diamonds and sapphires, reflecting the fire within the jewels. “Alexandra, this ring is precious to me, not because of its stones but because it belonged to my mother. If you would accept this ring, it would fill my heart with happiness.”
“Ohhh …” Her breath came out in a heartfelt sigh. “I will be honored to wear her ring. I will treasure it always.” Alex held out her hand, and he slipped it onto her finger. Deep within her heart she knew that Nicholas was her true love, and she believed it was Nick to whom she pledged herself.
“You accept the engagement?” Nick held his breath as he awaited her answer.
“Yes,” she said softly.
Nick cursed himself, knowing he had seduced her. He refused to press her about setting a date for the wedding; his twin would have to do that for himself. “Perhaps we should return to the house before our guests annihilate one another?”
Alex laughed. “My money is on Dottie.” She was relieved that he had not spoiled the moment by insisting they marry immediately. She sensed that he would be attuned to her wishes and desires, and her heart overflowed with gratitude that his goal seemed to be her happiness. She welcomed his arms as he lifted her and carried her from the boat, then he stood looking down at her for a long, drawn-out moment, as if he could
n’t bear to let her go. Finally, he set her feet to the grass, and his possessive arm drew her close against his side as they slowly made their way back to the hall.
Early the next morning, Nick walked over from the Grange. “Mr. Burke, when my brother comes down, would you tell him I’m in the library?” While he waited, Nick glanced idly at Kit’s gun collection and noticed a new set of duelling pistols with silver butt caps engraved with a double H, presumably for Harm Hatton. Nick was not amused at the way Kit indulged himself. He sat down at the mahogany desk and reflected on the words of the dinner guests when he and Alex had returned to the hall. Clearly, they were all anticipating the engagement, for the moment they reappeared he was heartily congratulated and Alex forced to show off the ring. He took the empty ring box from his pocket and set it on the desk.
When Kit came into the library, he looked repentant. He sank down in a chair and ran his hand through his hair in a boyish gesture. “Burke told me that you took my place and hosted the dinner last night. Nick, I’m so sorry about what happened; it was unforgivable. Going to the cellar is what did me in. When I saw the door to the underground passage, I relived the horror of being trapped in the dark as a child. I needed a brandy to settle my nerves and give me courage to ask Alex to marry me.”
Nick pushed the small velvet box toward him. “You are officially engaged. The rest is up to you,” he said curtly.
“Nick, how can I ever thank you—”
“Don’t thank me,” Nick growled. “I didn’t do it for you, damn it! I did it for Alexandra! When a lady becomes engaged, it should be one of the happiest nights of her life. If I hadn’t stepped in, it would have been a disaster. But let me make it plain, Kit: This is the last time, the absolute last time, that I pull your bloody coals from the fire!” Nick slammed his fist down on the desk.
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