My Lady Vixen

by Connie Mason

  “No, my lord,” replied the butler. In truth he knew exactly where Alexa had gone but he had grown so fond of the lady that he wished no harm visited on her. Hence, he lied, for he cared little for Adam’s dark, brooding looks. Let him locate her himself if he was so intent upon finding her, that good man decided as he closed the door in Adam’s face.

  Still shaken, Adam returned to the inn for lunch—having missed breakfast he felt the first stirrings of hunger. Well into his meal Adam could not help but overhear the conversation between two men seated at the next table, making him grateful that he had returned. From what he had heard so far the men were obviously a lawyer and his client.

  “What kind of a chance do I have, Wayne?” the younger man asked. He looked to be over thirty with thinning blond hair and sharp features. The pronounced bags under his eyes led Adam to believe he was well along the path to dissipation.

  “It’s difficult to judge which way the court will decide in a case such as this, Billy, but I truly believe your chances of controlling the Ashley fortune, at least until your cousin. Lady Alexa, turns twenty-five, to be excellent. Unless, of course, she remarries.”

  “I’ll make certain that doesn’t happen,” smirked Billy knowingly, “unless she’s willing to settle for me.”

  “Are you absolutely certain the lady’s husband is dead, Billy? If not all this is a waste of time.”

  “I heard it directly from Charles Whitlaw before he left for India, Wayne,” Billy assured him smugly. “He’s the one who brought Lady Alexa from America after the death of her husband. He was in his cups one night and hinted to some deep secret in her past but refused to divulge just what it was. Believe it or not he appeared frightened of my esteemed cousin.”

  Adam nearly choked as he smothered a laugh. The Vixen’s anger could be formidable, as Charles well knew. He wondered why Charles and Alexa had split, especially since this Billy Ashley appeared on the verge of wresting Alexa’s holdings from her. Until that moment he hadn’t realized John Ashley was dead. As often as Adam had wished for Ashley’s demise, it no longer seemed important to him. But at least he now knew where Alexa was living. She obviously was staying at Ashley House. But rather than face her at a time when he was far from feeling his best, Adam put the meeting off until the following day when he deemed himself better able to cope with his emotions.

  Before Adam presented himself at Ashley House the following evening he had accomplished many things. One of which was to pay a visit to Lawyer Wayne. He smiled to himself as he recalled the encounter as well as the stunned look on Billy’s face, who just happened to pay a visit while Adam was speaking with the solicitor.

  Claude Wayne nearly fell off his well-padded posterior when Adam was shown into his office and introduced himself. “You … are the husband of Lady Alexa Ashley Foxworth?” he gasped in disbelief. “That’s impossible, sir! Adam Foxworth, Lord Penwell, is dead.”

  “You have proof of that?” Adam asked coolly, flicking an invisible speck from his impeccably clad arm.

  “Well … er … that is, proof enough,” Wayne hemmed and hawed. “Do you have proof of your identity, sir?”

  “Actually, I do,” announced Adam, enjoying himself immensely. Then he proceeded to extract several documents from his pocket including a letter of credit and a large bank draft bearing his name. Wayne studied everything very carefully before handing them back, his face mottled, clearly distraught by the turn of events. He and Billy Ashley had grand plans to bilk Lady Alexa out of the bulk of her estate before that young lady reached her majority. The unfortunate appearance of the lady’s husband had effectively put a damper on their well-laid plans.

  At that point Billy Ashley sauntered into the office, not bothering to knock or be announced. “Wayne, what do you hear from the courts?” blustered Billy before he saw Adam sitting in a chair. “Are our bribes sufficient to assure me the Ashley estates?”

  Wayne paled, motioning frantically at Adam who rose to his full height as he faced Billy. “Who is this man. Wayne?” Billy asked, an unexplained frisson of fear stiffening his spine.

  Wayne cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “I’m afraid you’re in for a shock, dear boy,” he replied in a voice much too high. “This is Lord Penwell, Alexa Ashley’s husband, who has been miraculously resurrected.”

  Billy started violently, his face twisted with rage. “Impossible! Charles would not lie! This man is an impostor!”

  “There are too many people in England who could verify my identity.” Adam said lazily. The dangerous gleam in his icy gaze was not lost on Billy Ashley. “I believe lawyer Wayne is quite satisfied with my credentials. As for Charles Whitlaw, I fear his information was false. As you can see I certainly am no ghost.”

  With an exaggerated bow Adam left, the loud curses of Billy following him out the door. He laughed heartily, something he hadn’t done in months, experiencing a surge of elation that held until he stood resolutely before the elegant door of Ashley House. It was very late, for Adam had first attended the theater and postponed his date with a furious Fannie until the following evening.

  Though Mac had begged to be allowed to accompany Adam when he called upon Alexa, he was denied his request. Mac’s all-consuming fear was that Adam might do his wife bodily harm when he finally faced her, but Adam promised he would not hurt her. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands on her!” Adam spat derisively.

  “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble in her behalf, Adam,” Mac reminded him, “You could have stood by and done nothing while she lost everything to Billy Ashley.”

  “No I couldn’t, Mac. Sooner or later my name will be made known as one of the Americans here to negotiate a peace treaty with England. I should never have allowed you to talk me into coming here in the first place. Besides,” he calculated slyly, “Alexa’s possessions are mine by law. I couldn’t allow so valuable an estate to pass into the hands of a man like Billy Ashley.”

  I wouldn’t tell Alexa your views,” Mac grinned implishly. “I imagine she fancies the estate hers.”

  “The law is the law, Mac.” Adam smirked as he imagined Alexa’s face when he told her he was taking over her properties, “I’m on my way there now to inform her that her husband is very much alive despite her efforts to the contrary.”

  The house looked deserted. Only one dim light was visible, and that coming from a window near the rear of the house. But Adam was not deterred. He knew Alexa had to be there. With a determination born of long months thinking of just such an encounter, he grasped the knocker firmly in strong fingers and set up a furious pounding. For several painful minutes there was no answer. Then, when he was on the verge of giving up in disgust to return in the morning, the door slowly opened.

  Alexa had fallen asleep curled up in a chair in her father’s den, an opened book lying in her lap. Owen and Bertha had already retired to their own quarters and Alexa, unable to sleep for thinking about her appearance at court in a few days, had wandered into the study and fallen asleep. The racket at the front door startled her awake, but only after several minutes was she able to gather her wits sufficiently to move. In a daze she walked to the door, halfway between waking and sleeping. It never occurred to her to wonder who might be visiting at so late an hour, or that to open the door might invite danger. What she did think of was Davie, and that something might have happened to him. With lamp held aloft to light her way. Alexa slowly opened the door.

  Adam’s first glimpse of Alexa, her lovely features flushed from sleep, her ebony hair falling in disarray about her slim shoulders, caused his body to swell with desire and his heart to beat erratically in his breast. Reining in his stampeding emotions, Adam felt himself drawn into the fathomless deep violet depths as Alexa’s eyes grew wide with shock the moment recognition dawned.

  “You!” Her voice was a throaty rasp reminiscent of the Vixen. “It can’t be! You’re dead!”

  “Not dead, Alexa,” Adam replied coldly. “But very much alive, no thanks to you.�
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  Alexa’s slim hand fluttered upward to clutch convulsively at her throat. “Adam! Thank God!” Then she did something she only did once before in her life. She fainted.

  With the grace of a panther, Adam swooped her up before she hit the floor, at the same time stomping out the fire from the smashed lamp she had dropped when she fell into her swoon. Glancing about, he saw no servants lurking in the shadows, having no doubt been dismissed for the night. Closing the front door with his foot, Adam scowled at Alexa’s limp body resting peacefully in his arms, then came to a swift decision. He felt a thrill of excitement pounding through his blood as he bounded up the stairs, picked the first bedroom he came to and deposited her unceremoniously on the bed. As fate would have it, it was Alexa’s own room.

  He moved about lighting a lamp and wetting a cloth to place on her forehead, stopping to stare at her as he feasted his eyes on her beauty so long denied him. When he had looked his fill he placed the cloth on her brow and loosened the buttons of her bodice. After a few minutes Alexa began to stir, moaning softly and thrashing about. When her eyes finally focused she discovered Adam sitting calmly beside her on the bed, a sardonic smile curving his sensuous lips.

  “Oh, Adam, Adam, my love. It’s true, you are alive! I wasn’t just dreaming.”

  “Why, Alexa,” Adam said mockingly, “how can you doubt it?” Struggling, she sat up, noticing for the first time Adam’s stern countenance, his cold eyes, the cynical twist to his lips. Oh, God, she groaned inwardly, he hates me! He’ll never forgive me!

  “You left me in little doubt of your feelings the last time we met.” Adam accused, giving her a look of intense animosity. “Why did you wish me dead, Alexa? I can understand everything but that.”

  “No, Adam. It’s not true. It was Charles! He’s the one who wanted you dead! He arranged everything without my knowledge. I just recently found out that he paid to have you set upon after you left his ship. What happened?”

  “Somehow Mac got wind of what was planned and arrived in time to save my neck. So you see, my love,” he stated with bitter emphasis, “I foiled your attempt to end my life. Your lover should have left me for the hangman had he wanted me dead.”

  “Adam, you must listen to me,” Alexa begged desperately. “I acted as I did to save your life. Charles promised to set you free if I returned to England with him.”

  “As his mistress?”

  “Aye, but …” Suddenly Alexa was aware that Adam was no longer listening to her. His eyes were drawn to that enticing portion of her upper breasts and neck that showed through the opening in her bodice where the buttons gaped apart.

  With a will of their own his hands thrust forward, his long fingers caressing her throat and the tops of her breasts. “How was Charles, Alexa?” Adam asked softly, accusing. “Did he make you moan as I did? Did he do all the things you love? All the things I taught you?”

  Alexa gasped, unable to speak as his strong hands suddenly tightened about the slender column of her neck, his face a contorted mask of pain. “Adam,” she gagged, “please. You’re hurting me.”

  “No more than you hurt me, I’ll wager.” His fingers tightened, Alexa’s face grew white, then red, and she knew that death was imminent.

  “I … love … you …” she managed to gasp out only seconds before the pressure to her throat eased.

  “Oh, Jesus, Alexa!” Adam shuddered convulsively. “Do you realize I nearly killed you; how near death you were?” He flung himself away, unable to control his emotions. For months he had dreamed of facing Alexa, of punishing her in some way too horrible to contemplate. And he nearly succeeded! Oh God, what had he become? What had she done to him? Breathing deeply in an effort to gain control of his rampaging emotions, Adam whirled about to glare murderously at Alexa. “What happened between you and your lover? Has he tired of you already? Or have you tired of him?”

  Alexa tried to speak but couldn’t; her mouth was dry, her throat sore and raspy. Sighing disgustedly, Adam poured her a glass of water from a pitcher sitting nearby and waited impatiently until she could form the words she wished to say. “I … I left Charles the moment word was received in England confirming the war’s end. I knew then that he no longer presented a threat to me.”

  “A threat? Do you think me stupid enough to believe that Charles forced you into his bed?”

  “Yes … no … I mean, you’re not stupid, but Charles did not force me. Not into his bed. I mean. I never shared his bed.”

  Adam sighed wearily. “You lived with Charles for months and you expect me to believe you never shared his bed?”

  “Aye, Oh, Adam, I was …” She paused dramatically, then clamped her mouth tightly shut. No, she would not tell Adam about Davie. Not yet. Not until she knew what he intended for her. Once he learned he had a son he might be tempted to take him away from her and she couldn’t allow that. Davie was her whole life and she would kill to keep him with her.

  “… was what, Alexa?” Adam asked, eyeing her curiously.

  “Nothing … I meant to say I was unwilling.”

  Sarcastic laughter met her ears and Alexa felt herself tremble. From the first moment she met Adam she had never really feared him until now. “Your flimsy explanation does not do you justice, my love. Somehow I expected better from you.” His smoky eyes blazed with an unholy light as he boldly raked her figure from head to toe.

  Realizing Adam wasn’t going to believe her no matter what. Alexa wanted him gone. Far away where he wasn’t likely to learn about Davie and lay claim to him. “What are you doing in England, Adam?” she asked, sullenly. “Did you come all this way just to tell me you hated me?”

  “I had no intention of seeing you at all. I came to England as part of a delegation sent to negotiate a peace treaty. A relative of yours, Billy Ashley, is what brought me to Ashley House.”

  “Billy! What has he to do with us?”

  “I accidentally learned your father died leaving you a wealthy woman,” Adam casually explained. “I also heard Billy Ashley was attempting to wrest your holdings from you by having himself declared your guardian. I quickly disabused him of that notion. You can forget about Billy Ashley and any plot he may have hatched.”

  Alexa was dumbfounded. “You did that for me? But … I don’t understand. If you hate me so much why …”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, my love,” Adam said contemptuously. “I did it for myself. I am your lawful husband and your holdings now belong to me. Did you really think I’d allow your wealth to slip through my fingers so easily?”

  Red dots of rage exploded behind Alexa’s eyes. “You bastard!” she cried, nearly knocking him off his feet as she sprang at him. “Get out of here, I don’t need you!”

  “I hear Charles is on his way to India. With whom have you replaced him? A woman of your passions cannot live long without one man or another.” His words were spoken with deadly calm as he captured Alexa’s flailing arms, pinning them to her side and pulling her plaint form hard against his maleness. Through the thickness of her skirt she felt him grow large and prod between her legs.

  “Damn you, Adam, leave me alone. I won’t give in to you. If it’s a woman you want, go find a whore!”

  “I have one,” he laughed crudely, flinging her on the bed and settling his considerable bulk on her frail form, making it impossible for her to escape him. “You’re also my wife, Alexa, or have you forgotten?”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing, and I don’t deserve your contempt. Adam. I saved your life, damn you! I should have let you hang!”

  “Maybe you should have, Alexa,” Adam agreed softly. Before she could offer a tart reply. Adam’s hard mouth claimed hers, slanting first one way, then the other in a kiss meant to punish as well as show his contempt.

  Struggling beneath him. Alexa felt her breath leave her soul as his kiss deepened and his tongue ravaged the soft inside of her mouth, stabbing, probing, insulting in its boldness. His fingers dug hurtfully into the tender flesh of her upper arms an
d Alexa whimpered, wishing she had the comfort of a sword in her hand.

  At the first touch of her mouth against his, Adam was driven beyond reason, beyond time and space as his blood took fire and blazed white-hot through his veins. Lifting himself slightly he began ripping and tugging at her clothes until he finally bared her beautiful breasts to his hot gaze.

  Abandoning her lips, his eager mouth fell to a nipple, dusty rose and pouting prettily beneath his gaze. “This is rape. Adam!” Alexa managed to gasp out.

  Ignoring her taunts. Adam continued to nuzzle and suck at her breasts, vaguely thinking that she had somehow changed since he had last had her; her breasts seemed fuller, more firm. His mouth continued its brazen assault as he tugged off the rest of her clothes and tossed them on the floor. Then he worked furiously to free himself of his own constricting clothing before renewing his salacious attack.

  “You’ve changed, Alexa,” he murmured, his hands skimming sensuously over her body, discovering once again all the secret places he had forbidden himself to think about these many months. Passion, as well as anger, caused his hands to grasp roughly, almost hurtfully, at her tender flesh.

  “If you’re trying to hurt me, Adam, you’re succeeding,” Alexa complained, flinching beneath the onslaught of his ardor.

  “I should hurt you, my love. You deserve to be hurt, damn it!” cursed Adam. “But for some unexplained reason the need to possess you, to lose myself in your warm flesh, is far greater. If I can’t punish you with one weapon I shall use another; one you are accustomed to.”

  “Adam, I won’t …” began Alexa stubbornly.

  “You will,” Adam interrupted harshly.

  Before she could reply Adam’s lips were once again claiming hers, forcibly at first, then softening, swallowing her cries of protest deep in his throat while his hands played at her breasts. With the heel of his palm he molded the mounds, caressing the taut nubs with a thumb. Alexa whimpered, drawn against her will into the vortex of his passion.