by Olivia Drake
Alex wondered if she even realized that she’d spoken his first name. Ten years had passed since he’d last heard those beautiful lips utter it. Ten years of wondering where she had gone. Though he had managed to put her out of his mind, there had been occasions when something had sparked a memory. A glimpse of tawny-gold hair. A lady’s merry laugh. A drab servant in his aunt’s garden.
That last time hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. Fate—with the help of Lady Milford—had given him a second chance. Now he had only to find a way to keep Laura.
In a deliberately seductive undertone, he said, “Looking for me?”
“No! I … merely forgot my spectacles. On the table.”
“But you didn’t go into the dining chamber. You went straight to the railing and looked down into the entrance hall.”
She elevated her chin. “I thought I heard someone talking as I came downstairs. I wondered who it was.”
“I see.”
But he didn’t see. Had she come in search of him or not? Alex wanted to think she had. Hell, he wanted to believe that she intended to lure him into one of these darkened rooms, strip off that prim high-necked gown, and invite him to have his way with her.
He’d have better luck wagering that the Blue Moon diamond would drop from the sky.
Laura Falkner was like a skittish mare, and it would take patience and persuasion to tame her. His attempt to kiss her in the carriage had met with only fleeting success. Then she had rebuffed him in no uncertain terms.
You didn’t listen when I begged you not to take my father away. You didn’t care if you hurt me. And you refused to trust me when I vouched for Papa’s character.
She’d had a decade to nurse those grievances. He wouldn’t overcome them in one night. He would wear her down by inches, slowly reignite her passion until it burned away her resistance.
“There’s something we should—” he began.
“I’ve a matter to discuss—” she said.
They both stopped abruptly to stare at each other. He waved his hand in concession. “Ladies first.”
She parted her lips, then pinched them closed as if reconsidering her words. Adopting a formal tone, she said, “Since you’re still here, my lord, I’d like to speak with you on a private matter. If you aren’t in a rush to depart, that is.”
“Not at all. I’ll fetch a candle. We can talk in the drawing room.”
A genuine grin sprang to his lips as he made haste into the dining chamber. One footman still lingered there, removing the linens from the long table. “You may go now,” Alex told him. “I’ll extinguish the candles and let myself out.”
The white-wigged servant bowed. “Yes, my lord.”
Alex seized the heavy silver candelabrum with its three guttering tapers. A droplet of hot wax fell onto the back of his hand but he paid no heed. He half feared Laura would be gone when he came back out. But she was still in the staircase hall, her arms crossed beneath her bosom, walking back and forth as if lost in thought.
He noted a slight wobble to her steps as she turned around. She had drunk quite a lot of wine tonight. If she was a trifle tipsy, then so much the better. He had no qualms about exploiting such a breach in her defenses. It would take every ounce of his persuasive powers to overcome her scruples against him.
Alex led the way into the darkened drawing room, wending a path through the maze of furniture. Whatever weighed on her mind must be important, because she seemed to have forgotten about the spectacles. They were tucked in an inside pocket of his coat, where they’d stay for the moment. When he’d noticed upstairs that she was missing the eyeglasses, he’d come down to fetch them as an excuse to win her favor.
Circumstances had worked out even better than he’d hoped. There was nothing like an intimate tête-à-tête to appeal to a woman’s heart.
With that purpose in mind, he proceeded to a corner where they wouldn’t be readily visible from the open doorway. Moving aside several figurines, he made room for the candelabrum on a piecrust table. Then he caught Laura’s arm and guided her to a diminutive, gold-striped chaise with just enough room for two. “Shall we sit?”
She took a step toward it, gave him a sharp glance, and seated herself in the gilt chair positioned perpendicular to the chaise. He almost smiled. She was no fool, his Laura.
A sense of possessiveness firmed his resolve. Yes, she was his, though she did not yet accept that. They belonged to each other. And this time, he had no intention of letting her go.
He settled back on the chaise to watch her. In the golden glow of the candles, she sat with her spine erect and her hands folded in her lap. How prim she looked in the lace cap and high-necked gray gown. No longer the carefree debutante she had once been, Laura had locked her passionate spirit behind a spinsterish facade. But he knew it was there, just waiting to be freed.
She regarded him coolly. “You must be curious as to why I asked you for an audience.”
“If I’ve committed some offense today, pray forgive me. It was not intentional.”
“Offense?” A frown flitted across her smooth brow. “No, you were most kind. You made Lady Josephine very happy.”
“That was my intention.” And to please you, too.
“Well, the puppy did make her birthday very special. I’m only sorry I didn’t give her a gift myself.”
“Praise God you did not. My aunt already has enough trinkets to fill every house in Mayfair.”
Laura laughed, and he basked in the sound. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. But her amusement lasted only the briefest of moments. Then she lowered her lashes slightly, her eyes taking on a secretive aspect.
“Well,” she said in a detached tone, “it’s late and I don’t wish to keep you too long, my lord. I hope you’ll be good enough to provide me with some information. I recently heard a rumor that my father left considerable debts. Is that true?”
The blunt question caught him off guard. “Who told you that? I doubt my aunt knew anything of it.”
“My source doesn’t matter. Just do me the honor of providing an honest answer.”
Alex ran his fingers through his hair. The firm expression on her delicate features demanded candor on a topic guaranteed to doom any hope of romance this evening. Blast Martin Falkner for never informing her of the dire state of his finances. “All right, then, yes. If you must know, he did have debts.”
“How much?”
“Several thousand pounds.”
Those expressive blue eyes widened. “Did you know this when you found the stolen earrings in his desk?”
“I’d heard something about it, though I wasn’t aware of the precise amount until later.”
The Duchess of Knowles had told him that, along with additional information that Laura would never learn if Alex had any say in the matter. Those other damning facts had been relayed to him in confidence. He could speak of the debts, but not the rest; he was honor-bound to obey the vow of silence he’d made to his godmother.
“There was an auction,” Laura said, her gaze intent on him. “All of our belongings were sold, Papa’s library of books, the sterling silver, the carriage and horses, the furniture”—her voice caught—“and even my mother’s jewelry, I’m sure.”
Alex didn’t like to see the hint of distress in her expression. Once, long ago, Laura had spoken wistfully of the mother she’d never known. “I’m afraid everything was sold,” he confirmed.
“Then surely there was more than enough to pay off the debts?”
“Correct. You’ve no worries in that respect.”
She released a shaky sigh and briefly closed her eyes. Then she studied him again. “Were there any funds left over that I could claim—somehow?”
Wishing he could evade the question, Alex glanced away at the shadowy room with its black lumps of furniture. He would sooner cut out his tongue than cause her more pain. But better she hear the news from him than some malicious scandalmonger.
He leaned forwa
rd, wishing he dared to take her into his arms to soften the blow. Gentling his tone, he said, “Laura, you should know that your father was tried and convicted in absentia by a judge and jury. Any remaining proceeds from the auction were given to the Duchess of Knowles in compensation for her loss of the Blue Moon diamond.”
Her knuckles turning white, Laura gripped the arms of her chair. “What? As if that rich old biddy needs a ha’penny of Papa’s money! Just how much is that wretched diamond worth, anyway?”
“It was assessed at thirty thousand pounds.”
“Thirty thousand!” Laura gave a bitter, disbelieving laugh. “I can only imagine if Her Grace knew I was back here in London, she’d have me tossed into debtors’ prison until I paid off the rest!”
Alex covered her slim hand with his. Her fingers trembled slightly—or perhaps they merely convulsed around the chair arm. “No one will demand anything of you, Laura. I promise you that. You cannot be held responsible for your father’s crime.”
The very moment he uttered the words, Alex knew it was the wrong thing to say. He should have been more circumspect. She had a daughter’s steadfast belief in her father’s impeccable character.
Unlike Alex, she hadn’t grown up with the constant reminder that one’s parents could be flawed beyond redemption.
She flung away his hand and surged to her feet, pacing to the perimeter of the candlelight and then whirling back to confront him. “My father is innocent. But I don’t suppose that matters to those who are determined to condemn him.”
Alex stood up, too, prompted as much by gentlemanly manners as the need to assuage her anger. And to convince her to face the truth.
Stepping closer, he placed his hands on her shoulders and used his thumbs to tip up her chin. “You knew him far better than I,” he conceded. “Yet the threat of ruin can tempt a man to do acts that go against his moral fiber. And you can’t deny that the earrings were in his desk.”
She gazed at him with haunted eyes. “But not the diamond necklace. The police surely must have looked for it before our house was sold. They never found it.”
Unbeknownst to her, Alex had searched alongside the police. He had spent the better part of a week going over the town house with a fine-tooth comb, looking for a secret hiding place. He had knocked on every inch of paneling, checked every stone and floorboard for any sign of looseness. He had scoured each room from the attics down to the cellar. Then he had covered the grounds, as well, the gardens and the stable. He had been desperate to find the Blue Moon diamond so that he could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had not been wrong in his accusation. That he had not ruined Laura’s life on a false assumption.
“You’re right,” he said heavily, “the diamond wasn’t found. Not in the house nor in any bank deposit vault in London. It was presumed that your father had taken it with him.”
Laura twisted away from him. “Well, he didn’t. And now the trail is cold because no one bothered to check out other possibilities. It’s too late to trace the person who put those earrings in Papa’s desk.”
“Is it, Laura? Or do you intend to find the perpetrator yourself?”
The slight widening of her eyes proved his surmise to be correct. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”
“I believe you can.” Alex deemed it time he confronted her on the issue of her sleuthing. “You took this position with my aunt so that you could go into society and investigate on your own. I only wonder why you didn’t come back to London sooner. Perhaps your father forbade you to do so.”
She crossed her arms. “You can’t prove anything of the sort.”
Frustrated, Alex pushed back his coat and placed his hands on his hips. He wanted to strangle her—or kiss her until she forgot all about her foolish plan. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned. “You can’t be poking into the lives of the nobility, making accusations of prominent members of the ton. You’ll lose your post here, and then where will you be?”
“So you would dismiss me from Lady Josephine’s service. Why does that not surprise me?”
He scowled. “Don’t twist my meaning. I won’t let my aunt be dragged into a scandal.”
“There is no scandal—nor will there be.”
“You can’t be certain of that. Now, who is it that you suspect of this deed?”
When she stubbornly pressed her lips shut, a plan sprang full-blown into his mind. A plan that would allow him to shield her—and his aunt—from harm. A plan so brilliant, he wondered that he hadn’t thought of it before.
He went directly to Laura, gripping her hand with both of his so that she couldn’t retreat from him again. “I can help you. I have all the connections that you lack. In your present station, you can’t call on people or ask them questions. But I can. I’ll find out whatever it is you wish to know.”
“You? That’s like asking the fox to guard the henhouse.”
“At least you’re no longer denying your real purpose here.”
A flush of high color sprang into her cheeks. For a moment she looked charmingly befuddled. Then she tossed up her chin in defiance. “All right, so why would I trust you to help me? You, who tried to arrest my father. You, who told me little to nothing about your past.”
“My past? What the devil does that have to do with anything?”
She gave him a sly look from beneath her lashes. “For one, you never told me the Duchess of Knowles was your godmother. She must have a close connection to your family. Tell me, is she a blood relation?”
“No. She was a friend of my father’s. They grew up in the same household.”
Laura raised a quizzical eyebrow. “But you just said they weren’t related.”
“She’d been orphaned and my grandfather was her appointed guardian.” Alex had no intention of discussing the duchess any further. It was too risky a topic if Laura were to probe deeply. “But all that is immaterial. What matters is the name of whomever it is you suspect.”
Laura eyed him warily. Then she gave a shake of her head that stirred a few wisps of golden hair around her face. “I daren’t say. You might warn that person—or persons. The nobility protects its own.”
“Nonsense. If someone other than your father stole the Blue Moon diamond, I’d suffer no qualms over tracking down the villain, no matter how high his rank.” He drew her hand to his lips and pressed his lips to the smooth back. The faint scent of flowers stirred his blood like an aphrodisiac. “I promise you that, Laura. I don’t know how much clearer I can be.”
Alex meant every word, although he remained certain the culprit was Martin Falkner. But maybe she needed to go through this exercise to set her mind at ease on the matter. Maybe convincing her that she was chasing a ghost was the only way she could ever trust him again.
Laura drew a deep breath that lifted her bosom. Releasing a sigh, she gazed warily at him, their hands still joined. Those expressive blue eyes were a window to her soul, though he couldn’t read her thoughts as readily as he once could. She had an intriguing sense of mystery about her now. He burned to uncover all her secrets, from the taste of her lush mouth to the feminine curves beneath the concealment of her gown.
With any other woman, he would have already asserted his desires. Yet with Laura he felt as hesitant as a callow youth. One precipitous move and he might wreck this fragile peace between them …
Quite shockingly, she lifted up on tiptoe, placed her hands on his shoulders, and held her face close to his. Her nearness affected him in a visceral rush of lust. Her parted lips hovered half an inch from his mouth, so close he could feel the warmth of her breath. She murmured, “I shouldn’t trust you, Alex … truly I shouldn’t.”
“Truly, you should.”
He needed no further enticement to join their mouths in a deep kiss. A tidal wave of desire inundated him. At last he had Laura in his arms again, exactly where she belonged. Hot blood pumped through his veins and pooled in his loins. No other woman had ever become an obsession to him as she was. He
thought of her constantly, day and night. Yet he was conscious now of the need to woo her.
As fiercely as he wanted to explore the uncharted territory of her body, he would not—could not—debase her with the full force of his passion. With great effort, he focused on pleasing her with his hands and mouth. He cupped her face, letting his fingers thread into her hair as he used the kiss to cajole and caress. Whenever Laura thought about him in the days to come, he wanted her to ache with longing. He wanted her to pine for his touch. Then perhaps she finally would regard him again with the same loving adoration she had once lavished upon him.
She ended the kiss, though her eyes were slumberous and her body soft against his. “This doesn’t mean anything, you know.”
In the grip of a fever, Alex was charmed by her need to dupe herself. He ran his fingertip over her moist lips. “It’s merely the wine we drank at dinner.”
“Yes,” she murmured. “The wine.”
Laura let him nuzzle her face for a few moments longer, tilting her head like a kitten indicating where she wished to be petted. Then as abruptly as she’d entered his arms, she retreated a few steps. Despite the faint flush in her cheeks and the redness of her lips, she appeared otherwise composed.
“You will give me a few days to consider,” she said.
Alex gawked at her. His passion-soaked brain refused to comprehend her meaning. Had he asked her to—? No, he couldn’t have. He would have remembered that. “Consider?”
“Whether or not I shall allow you to help me find who stole the diamond. You may call on me in two days’ time.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he commanded.
“No. I insist upon having time to think.” Her mouth curved in a slight smile as if she found his impatience amusing. Amusing! “Good night, my lord.”
Turning, she walked out of the drawing room, leaving him alone in the circle of candlelight. Alone with his unquenched lust. Alone without any certainly about her intentions.
Alex scowled at the darkened doorway. He should be delighted that Laura had initiated that kiss. She had come willingly into his arms at last. Yet she also had ended the kiss on her own terms. And he had the irksome suspicion that somehow, she had gained the better of him.
