“Good. I wish to speak to you about our marriage.”
Alexandra let out a deep sigh. “Do we have to discuss this right now? I'm terribly upset by your father's accident and feeling rather on edge at the moment.”
Ignoring her concerns, he went ahead anyway. “I learned something unsettling when I returned home yesterday. A certain maid, feeling rather contrite, came to confess.”
“Confess what?”
“That she purposefully used beverages with high contents of liquor to get you drunk in order to provoke you into telling me about you and father.”
“So that's what happened?” Alexandra asked with a scowl as she thought of the young maid's faux kindness as she expressed willingness to assist her. “You should have her dismissed,” Alexandra quipped, feeling irritated over what Peggy had done, the memory of her retched hangover still so fresh in her memory.
“She also confessed that she did it for me.”
“For you? What good has her actions done for either one of us, the least of all you?”
Lord Coldwell stared out the carriage window, and Alexandra noticed for the first time the resemblance between father and son. They had the same determined jawline.
Without turning his head to look at her, he answered, “Apparently she's harbored a tendre for me for years and wished for you to reveal the truth of your relationship with father in hopes it would alter things between you and me.”
Alexandra laughed mirthlessly. “And did she truly think that by orchestrating such events she'd have a chance with you? How absurd.”
“Absurd, indeed. I'm not convinced that was her motive entirely. While she was confessing, she also admitted to the fact that she thought it only proper I was given a chance to fall in love and wed for something greater than duty.”
“How bold of her.”
“Bold, indeed, but I must confess her words gave me pause.”
Alexandra held her breath, not daring to hope. “What does that mean?” she asked eagerly.
Lord Coldwell slumped in his seat. “I'm not entirely sure. All I know is that she's given me something to think about.”
Unwilling to let the conversation fizzle between them, Alexandra slid forward on her seat and asked, “Do you not wish to marry for love, Lord Coldwell?”
His gray eyes bore into hers. “I believe love is a choice, not just an emotion. I think that if two people choose to put one another first and make each other's happiness their own, love can flourish nearly anywhere.”
“But what of your parents? Love did not flourish in their union.”
He shook his head sadly. “That is a fact I am very much aware of. I often wonder how much effort they put in to change that.”
Thinking of the intimate details Aaron had shared with her, Alexandra couldn't help asking, “Do you sincerely believe love is only acquired through diligent efforts and hard work?”
“Aren't all worthy pursuits so acquired?”
“Most, though I feel your view on love is a little unfair. Yes, it's a choice to continue loving someone, making a concentrated effort to put their happiness in front of your own, but if love were as simple as that, everyone would be possessors of it.”
Lord Coldwell raised a thick brow. “I don't think it's that simple.”
“Indeed, it's not. The love between two people, the invisible strings that draw two souls together, is not as simple as making a choice or signing a contract. It's something magical that happens when it's least expected, something that shows up and sweeps a person off their feet, turning their current worldview inside out. It's magical in its appearance and sacred in its arrival. I do not think every union is favored with such a thing, though I do agree it takes work to maintain.”
“And you fancy that is what happened between you and my father?” he inquired.
Alexandra could tell the question was painful for him to ask. Sliding from her seat, Alexandra went and joined him on his. She quickly glanced toward Jenny and sighed in relief that she was still sleeping. Grasping his hand in hers, she pulled him close. “Let us experiment.”
Reaching up, she pulled his head to her own and placed a kiss on his lips. The kiss reeked of betrayal, and she hated it. She broke it at once and looked intently into his face, hoping the experiment worked on his behalf and not just hers.
“What did you feel when I kissed you?”
Lord Coldwell looked at her strangely. “Nothing at all, if I can be so bold.”
Alexandra threw back her head and laughed, feeling relief wash over her. “I felt something, my lord,” she admitted proudly.
His brows arched high on his forehead. “You did?”
“Yes, I felt like I had betrayed your father by kissing you. It felt wrong.”
He was quiet as he stared at her. Eventually, he began to nod his head slowly. “I think I might see what you mean.”
“Do you think our lack of chemistry will change if we work hard enough at it?”
Silence ensued as both parties thought about her question. “I surmise you have proven your point, my lady. Though I am still convinced that I could grow rather fond of you and eventually come to love you, I'm uncertain whether there would ever be anything between us, by way of passion, I mean.”
“Precisely,” she exclaimed excitedly as his face turned a subtle shade of pink. “I have found this with your father, and he with me, and we both value it's rarity. It was the beginning of our union that has grown into something so much more than that. I love your father and I fear I always will, though to do so will cause me great heartache, as well as you both.”
She watched as Lord Coldwell thought intently upon her words. She could tell he was turning them over in his mind, really trying to understand what she was saying and she found that made her grow more fond of him.
“What do you think of all this?” she finally asked. “Honestly, Lord Coldwell, how do my words affect you?”
“I must confess, my lady, that I find them curious and plausible, but unsettling as well. I have spent the entirety of my life with thoughts of wedding you. While my friends at school concerned themselves over their future union, some excited and some dreading participating in the season, I found myself calmly working towards the inevitable.”
“You have proven most loyal to the idea of marrying me.”
“To the idea, yes, though I'm starting to doubt my loyalty to the actual endeavor.”
“Then release me, us, Samuel. Let us both be free of the decision of our parents. I've already found happiness with your father and know there is someone out there for you as well.”
He looked down at her and smirked. “I feel like either choice leaves me wanting. If I choose to keep the contract in place and wed you, I will be haunted by the fact that you love my father for the rest of my life. While on the other hand, if I let you free, I will live the rest of my life with you as my stepmother. Both situations prove a bit uncomfortable.” To prove his point, he reached up and tugged at his cravat.
“Indeed, you have a point. I can't promise I'll ever stop loving your father, but I can promise I will never be an evil stepmother like the one so often portrayed in stories.”
He laughed. “It would help if I could think of you more as a sister than a mother.”
“It would help me as well. Does that mean you are willing to dissolve the contract?”
“Please,” he urged with sincerity, “give me time to decide things over. It's not easy letting go of what you expected your life would be.”
“I respect that, my lord, for I understand that notion all too well.”
Alexandra's heart beat fast as she followed Lord Coldwell inside the townhouse. She could barely register the fact that she was in London, so eager as she was to see Aaron and witness for herself that he would survive.
Lord Coldwell escorted her up two flights of stairs then down the hall leading to his father's bedchamber. He pushed the door open slowly, so as not to make much noise, then quietly walked inside, urging
Alexandra to follow.
The room was dark, save it were a few candles burning lowly in a sconce near the bed. As they entered, a nursemaid rose and came to them. “Your father is sleeping.”
“Very well, then we will endeavor to make ourselves brief.”
Alexandra was relieved when Lord Coldwell didn't leave, as the nursemaid so clearly wanted them to do. Stepping aside, he waved towards the bed and said, “Go see for yourself that he is well.”
She hesitated only slightly before tentatively walking towards the bed where she could make out his sleeping form. She felt most anxious about seeing him, though deep down all she wanted to do was fling herself on top of him and kiss his face all over.
As she neared the bed and Aaron came into view, Alexandra gasped. His chest was bare, giving her a clear view of his left arm that was covered in dark purplish bruises and swollen so badly it looked painful. She resisted the urge to throw herself at him and instead reached out and gingerly touched his injured arm.
She watched as the breath hitched in his throat and his eyes came slowly open. “My love, did I hurt you?”
He managed a small, sleepy smile and answered, “'Twas not you that caused this injury, but my pathetic horse.”
Aaron reached across his chest with his good arm and grabbed her hand in his own. “Am I dreaming or is it really you?”
“I can assure you I'm as real as your pain. Oh, Aaron, how badly do you hurt?”
His eyes flickered to hers as he confessed, “The physical pain will subside, but I'm not sure the pain in my heart ever will.”
Guilt consumed her, and she felt at once contrite. “I must apologize for what I did that night, telling Samuel of our relationship when you had not yet done so. I was angry, Aaron, angry at you for not telling him and solving the problem between us.”
“Darling,” he whispered, hoping the others in the room could not overhear him. “I'm not mad at that; I'm angry because you'll never be mine. I can't take away what rightfully belongs to my son because of my selfish desires. I refuse to hurt him in that way.”
She saw his chest clench and assumed he was in pain. “Aaron, do not overexert yourself. You need only concern yourself with your recovery at this time. I did not come to distress you, only to see you and assure myself you are going to be fine. We can speak of matters once you are feeling up to it. ”
He nodded his head but otherwise said nothing.
“Sleep, now. I will be here when you wake up.”
Alexandra stood at his side until he once more drifted off to sleep then followed Lord Coldwell from the room. “What is the extent of his injuries?” she asked as soon as the door closed behind them.
“His left arm is broken. As soon as the swelling subsides, the doctor will put it in a splint so it can heal properly. He is quite bruised and sore, but otherwise fine. Though the doctor assures me of that fact, it's hard not to wonder when I see him so. To see my father lying about as if dead is quite disconcerting.”
“I tend to agree.”
“Let me show you to your bedchamber. You must be exhausted after the long day of travel.”
Once inside the room that felt like home to her, Alexandra removed her glove and bonnet and placed them atop the desk then moved to the bed and threw herself, completely dressed, upon it and found that sleep was quick to overtake her.
Several hours later she was woken by loud yells in the hall. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran to the door. Pulling it wide open she saw Samuel standing tensely as Aaron shouted at him.
“What do you mean the servant girl got her drunk? A few glasses of liquor would not get her drunk that fast. There had to be something else in her drink.”
“Father, I understand your concern, but you should not be out of bed right now. Let me help you back to your bedchamber where we can continue this discussion.”
“My concern? This goes much deeper than mere concern, Samuel. Someone drugged Alexandra, and the consequences could have been lethal.”
Behind them, Alexandra spoke. “You think I was drugged?”
Both men turned to stare at her. “It appears that was likely,” Samuel confessed.
Using all of his strength, Aaron walked over to where she was standing and clasped her face in his hands and then groaned, instantly dropping his broken arm. The pain his actions caused was intense.
“Your son is right, Aaron, you should not be about right now.”
“I've more concern for you than I do for myself,” he said between gritted teeth.
“I am quite recovered from my ordeal, whereas you are not. If you do not go back to your bedchamber, I will insist your son carries you there against your will.”
Aaron looked at her and growled. “I will take myself there after you assure me you've experienced no ill effects from the drugging that took place in my home and at the hand of one of my servants.”
“I assure you I am fine,” she insisted, trying to lead him back down the hall.
“And I can assure you the maid will be fired, with no letter of recommendation either.”
“That is only fair,” she agreed as they continued walking.
Once they were back in his bedchamber, Alexandra helped him to lie down, propping his pillow behind his head so that he was comfortable. “Don't overexert yourself on my account,” she ordered before turning to leave. “You need all the rest you can manage, or your body will not heal properly.”
“Alexandra?” he called out, and she quickly turned back to him.
“Yes?”
“I may never have you the way I so desire to have you, but my heart belongs to you and no other and will forevermore. I love you.”
“Let us not speak of such things right now,” she said, trying to keep her emotions at bay.
“If not now, when? The time to say these sort of things is drawing to a close. I need you to know that you have changed me, my love, given me a new heart that functions quite differently than the one I had before. It beats wildly and passionately, but it beats only for you.”
She gazed at him with tears in her eyes. “I'm not ready to give up just yet, Aaron. There's still a chance that Samuel will change his mind and agree to break the contract.” She glanced up just then and looked about the room. “Where is Samuel? I thought he followed us here.”
“I suppose he is giving us privacy so we can say our final goodbyes.”
Alexandra couldn't help herself, she flung herself onto his chest and felt his good arm go around her. “I don't like goodbye's Aaron. I never have, and I suppose I never shall.”
“This one is particularly painful, isn't it? Having to say goodbye to someone though you know you'll see them the rest of your life and be reminded of what you can never have.”
“I can't bear the thought,” she admitted as warm tears slipped from her eyes and fell across his chest.
“Me either. Perhaps I'll go away for awhile, visit America or something.”
“Will you search for someone else to love?” she asked boldly as her eyes met his.
“There will never be someone else. I have a confession to make; I kissed someone recently just to see if they would spark the same sort of all-consuming passion in me that you do, to see if perhaps I had changed.”
“And?” she asked, one brow arched curiously though she felt jealousy swelling in her breast. “Are you changed?”
“Only by you, darling. I felt absolutely nothing but regret in the kiss. Not even the slightest stirring of passion. Only you can provoke that in me.”
“And you likewise,” she insisted. “Oh, Aaron, I love you so much it hurts.”
He kissed the top of her forehead then said, “Perhaps it will be like my current injuries, painful in the present but diminishing with each passing day.”
“You know that's not true,” she breathed angrily. “The pain will never leave.”
“I fear you are right,” he said as his eyes closed. She began to wonder if he were drifting asleep when he sa
id, “Alexandra? Can I kiss you one final time?”
In response, she lifted her face to him and pressed her lips firmly to his. The kiss was different than their others—full of longing and full of goodbye. Alexandra kissed him with all of the love she possessed and felt him do likewise, never wanting it to end.
She pressed more fully against him as she attempted to get her fill of the man who would always own her heart. Aaron groaned, and she quickly pulled away, “I did not mean to hurt you.”
“It was worth it,” he smirked.
For what felt like hours, the pair simply gazed into one another's eyes, neither of them eager for their final moment together to end. Finally, the nursemaid returned to check on Aaron and Alexandra was forced to leave. She shut the door of his bedchamber behind her and wanted to cry. Why did life always have to be so unfair?
Catching herself, she shook the pitiful thought aside and squared her shoulders, remembering the advice Levi had given her about making the most of whatever life gave them. Though losing Aaron was the most painful thing she'd ever have to do, she vowed to look forward to the future, knowing that she was blessed to share in his love, even if for a short time.
Though she kept trying to assuage her pain by reminding herself she could have it worse, that she could be marrying some ogre who would violate her and treat her horribly, it wasn't successful, and soon she found her pent-up emotions breaking forth as if from a dam. Loud, painful sobs escaped her throat, and she did not attempt to stop them.
Though her legs were clad only in her stockings, Alexandra lifted the hem of her gown and ran through the hall and down the stairs, anxious to escape her pain. Her eyes were clouded with tears, and she could barely see where she was going, eventually tripping on the last stair and falling to the landing below. Her shins ached as they hit the hard floor and she instantly crumpled into a ball.
It was there that Lord Coldwell found her. Scooping her from the ground, he cradled her in his arms and attempted to comfort her, though no comfort was to be found.
“Lady Alexandra,” he finally spoke once her sobbing quieted down a bit. “I have made my decision.”
The Marquess's Maddening Dilemma Page 14
