by Dawn Ireland
“My lord, my lady, you all right?” The driver’s voice came from somewhere above them. He stiffened.
With his hands on her shoulders, Declan lifted Alex off of him and settled her onto the seat before the driver’s torch could illuminate the inside of the carriage. “We’re fine.” He scrambled back onto his seat and picked up Alex’s cloak from the floor.
The coachman opened the door and peered inside. “Sorry about the turn. Didn’t ken I had that much speed. Saw the street at the last minute. These flambeaux aren’t much help.”
While attempting to straighten his cravat, Declan peered at the driver in the flickering light. “How much farther?”
“It’s just ahead. A few hundred yards.”
“Good, we’ll walk the rest of the way.” He handed Alex down from the carriage, paid the driver, then placed the cloak around her shoulders. They started down the street, and after several minutes, Alex broke the silence.
“You never answered my question. Will you still take me to Derby Day if I’m betrothed?”
Thank God she was going to ignore his indiscretion in the carriage. “That will be up to your future husband to decide. Once you’re married, we won’t be seeing much of each other.”
“I see.” She stopped, and he joined her, even though he had no desire to halt their progress. With her hand on his arm, she studied his face. “Will that make you happy?”
What did she want from him? He understood the rapier-wielding hoyden in breeches better than this woman. “Alex, you aren’t making sense. Three weeks ago you couldn’t wait to be rid of me.”
“I’ve gotten rather used to having you around.” She wrapped her cloak tighter about her body. “I thought you might miss me.”
“Let’s see, what might I miss about you? Trying to keep you from danger? No, I prefer my life quiet. Stepping in every time you use that knife of yours? I rather enjoy my skin intact.”
“How about stolen kisses?”
So, she wasn’t going to ignore what happened in the carriage after all. He lifted her chin so the light from the nearby torch played across her features. She didn’t look real. “I’ll not deny my attraction to you. But that’s all it is.” Hope seemed to die in her eyes. “Dammit, Alex, I have my life planned, and you’re not a part of it.”
She jerked out of his grasp. “You’d rather be lonely. So be it.” She turned and ran the last few feet, up the steps, and into the house.
Lonely? Just because he’d learned to depend on himself didn’t make him lonely, did it? He enjoyed her company, but when she was gone, would he miss her? That tiny part of him he’d considered dead answered.
Yes.
Alex threw herself on her bed, her skirts flying in every direction. She reached up under them and yanked out the rump and hip pads, tearing off one of the ties in the process. She struggled with the lacings up the back of the gown and finally took out her knife. With a feeling of satisfaction, she cut the satin strips.
Dressed only in her chemise, she sat down at the end of her poster bed and laid a cheek against the cool, polished wood. Lady Bradford had been wrong. She’d been through all the balls and suitors for nothing. How could she make Declan jealous if he didn’t love her? Her throat constricted, and she swallowed several times, trying to ease the tension. She’d made a fool of herself, but no more.
Tomorrow she would give Declan her list. There were only four names she would even consider. All four were out to increase their wealth with her holdings. She hoped their greed would make them manageable.
Lord Duprey was the only one on the list she worried about when it came to the marriage bed. He had a look in his eye she didn’t like, but he would be preferable to Luther.
She lay back, staring at the ceiling. If only the driver hadn’t opened the door. There was no doubt Declan desired her, but if she made love to him, would it make a difference? She’d broken with convention all her life, but this time she was afraid of the consequences.
“Milady, there’s a Lord Addington here to see you. I left him in the drawing room.”
Alex looked up from the letter she’d been writing to Eleanor. Her maid seemed a bit anxious. Luther had that effect on people.
“Thank you, Mary. Do you know where Lord Worthington is?”
“He left early this morning.”
“When is he expected back?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Are Lady Bradford or Lady Anna in?”
“They’ve gone on their afternoon calls. No one’s in residence, milady.” Mary studied the floor, as if tying to find a spot she’d missed in cleaning. “Besides, Lord Addington seemed very anxious to see you alone. He said to tell you he had some information about Lord Worthington.”
What trouble was Luther trying to stir up? She sighed and put her ink and quill away. She might as well face him. He’d keep coming back until she did. “That will be all, Mary. I’ll see him.”
The maid left. Alex dusted her letter and slipped it in the drawer of her writing desk, then took Berta’s shawl out of the window bench and wrapped it around her shoulders. It wasn’t cold this morning, but she needed its reassuring feel.
She entered the brightly lit drawing room and stopped a few feet from the gold brocade settee. Luther sat in a high-backed chair beside the fire, snuffbox in hand. He rose. His cream colored breeches were a perfect match for his velvet coat. Pale lace spilled from his cravat and draped at his wrists.
The man had the appearance of an angel. Then why did she have the feeling he was going to put her through hell? “Lord Addington, this is a surprise.”
“Lady Lochsdale, cousin,”—he crossed to her and gave a slight bow—“I just wanted to see you. Worthington spirited you away before I had the chance to make sure you were well.” His face wore a mask of concern.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She drew her shawl tight around her shoulders.
Luther returned his snuffbox in his pocket and studied her, as if gauging what to say. “How well do you know Worthington?”
“Not well. Why?”
“Please, sit.” He motioned toward the settee.
She hesitated before taking the seat. It was silly to be afraid. What could he do with a servant within calling distance? She sat, and he settled himself next to her.
“After you left, I made some inquiries. It seemed odd to me that your grandfather made Worthington your guardian.”
“He had his reasons.”
“I’m sure he did, but were you aware Worthington was the only man with your father when he died?” Luther made this pronouncement with a flourish. His eyes narrowed, as if watching her every reaction.
She tried to remember the particulars of that awful day. Declan had returned to The Merry Elizabeth with her father’s body, and later she’d learned they’d been set upon by thieves near the pier.
A picture of her father’s face, as he’d looked in death, played across her memory. At the time, she’d resented Declan. He still lived, while her father lay dead.
Luther appeared to be waiting for her reply. She spoke softly. “I knew he was with Father. They were both attacked.”
“Isn’t it amazing that they allowed Worthington to live? Was anything taken?”
“No, Lord Worthington carried the proceeds from the sales, but he managed to return with them intact.”
“How convenient.” Luther raised an eyebrow and took Alex’s hands, extracting them from the warmth of the shawl.
His skin felt cool to the touch, as though no blood ran in his veins. As her cousin, she couldn’t berate him for being too forward, but the intimacy made her stomach churn.
“Did you know your grandfather and I discussed making you my ward?”
“No.” Her grandfather had hated Luther. They may have discussed it, but he would never have agreed.
“Lord Lochsdale was an excellent horseman. Yet his horse threw him? Didn’t you ever wonder about that?”
With a firm tug, she removed her hands from Luthe
r’s grasp and sidled away from him. “It was an accident.” She clutched the shawl to her chest, her breathing rapid.
“Was it?” Luther gave her a chilling smile. “It appears to me, Worthington had much to gain through their deaths. Has he asked you to marry him yet?”
She wouldn’t listen to any more perversions of the truth. With a practiced motion, she reached down and swept her blade from her boot. The weapon lay along Luther’s throat before she even thought about it. He went pale under his powder, pressing his back against the settee to keep away from the point.
“For your information, Lord Worthington has no interest in me.” Saying the words out loud hurt, but she wanted Luther to know how ridiculous his claim was. Declan had made it plain he didn’t want her, but even if he had been interested, she knew he would never have hurt her family. “Now, I want you to take your lies and pompous attitude out of this house.” She let the blade slide over his throat as she removed it and stood, holding her weapon at the ready.
Luther scurried for the door, showing himself to be the coward she’d always suspected. “Luther.” Her voice betrayed none of the rage she felt toward the snake.
He turned and glared at her.
“If we happen to meet at any social events, you don’t know me.”
Luther exited the study, grabbed his hat from the footman, and strode to his carriage.
“Where to, my lord?”
“The docks, and make it quick.”
He climbed in and sat back against the seat. The bitch, draw a knife on him, would she? She must be fonder of Worthington than he had suspected.
If she wouldn’t come with him willingly, he’d have to have her abducted, and he knew just the men for the job.
Once he had her as his wife, he’d make her pay. Luther felt himself harden just thinking about it.
Chapter 12
Alex’s quiet unnerved him. Declan couldn’t be sure if it was due to last night, or Luther’s visit this morning. Williams had informed him about the unwelcome guest, but perversely he wanted to hear it from her.
They rode their horses side by side through Hyde Park. He glanced at her, noting her new riding habit with approval. The vivid blue was a perfect foil for her hair. The sun warmed the red highlights in her curls, giving them a life of their own. Even the hat enhanced her allure. The elaborate creation sat at a jaunty angle, which allowed the ribbons to billow out behind her as she took Blade to a canter.
He wished his hands could travel the velvety curves the outfit emphasized. His jaw clenched. That line of thinking would only get him in trouble.
With a slight pressure on the reins, he urged Knight to catch up with her. “Slow down, there’ll be a crush ahead. I wouldn’t want anything to happen.”
For once, Alex complied. She reined Blade to a walk and studied Declan, as if looking for something. “Luther came to see me today. He said he needed to speak with me privately.”
“Oh?” He didn’t like Alex being alone with her cousin. It wasn’t safe. He’d advised Bradford that Luther had returned to London. But until the man made some overt threat, all they could do was watch.
“Luther wanted to warn me about you.” Alex fiddled with her bracelet, turning it around and around on her wrist. “He seems to think you murdered my father and grandfather so you could marry me.”
“What?” He jerked on Knight’s reins, causing the horse to sidestep. “Did he have any evidence?”
“Not really. He simply pointed out that when my father died, the thieves let you live without taking anything.”
He’d wondered about that at the time. But as there were only a few attackers left standing, he’d finally decided they were cowards. “And how does he think I killed Lord Lochsdale?”
“I’m not sure. He didn’t mention it, just insinuated grandfather was too good a horseman to die in a riding accident.” Alex met Declan’s gaze.
“And what did you say?”
“I drew my knife and told him to get out.”
He didn’t know how to react. She should never have done anything so dangerous, and yet knowing she’d defended him made him want to hug her and shake her at the same time. If she hadn’t been on horseback, he might have done both. “That was a foolish thing to do.”
“Perhaps. But I won’t listen to his lies.”
“In future, I don’t think you should speak with him alone.”
“Don’t worry, I doubt he’ll return. I explained to him that he was wrong. You didn’t kill my family, and you certainly don’t have any interest in me as a...wife.” She reached into the pocket of her habit and brought out a slip of paper. “I thought about what you said last night, and you’re right. I shouldn’t expect you to change what you want in life because of me.” She handed him the list. “Here are the men I would find suitable as husbands.”
Her choices were numbered in her neat handwriting. He should be glad his name didn’t appear on the tiny slip of paper, but instead he had the irrational impulse to crumple it up and throw it away. “Only four names?” With deliberate movements, he folded the small sheet and slipped it in his pocket. “What if they don’t ask for your hand?”
“They will.”
He raised an eyebrow at the certainty in her voice. “I’ll have to check them out thoroughly.”
“As you wish.”
“Might I ask what they all have in common?”
Alex gave him a defiant look. “They’ll all allow me to return to my old way of life. They’re only interested in my possessions. As long as the estates make a profit under my supervision, they’ll leave me alone.”
“Are you so sure?” His fingers ached with wanting to touch her. In a low whisper he added, “I would never let you go.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not marrying you.”
Alex preferred the quiet path they’d been riding to this bustling thoroughfare, but at least now she had an excuse to look at everything but Declan. Not that it mattered. He’d seemed distracted since she’d given him her list.
A highly polished curricle, drawn by two matched horses, sped by, the occupant’s crest emblazoned on the door. Small groupings of well-dressed men and women sat atop blooded horseflesh at every turn.
At least she now understood why the women of the Ton rode sidesaddle. They perched on their horses as if on display. It would never do to gallop and have a curl blow out of place. How staid their lives must be.
“Isn’t this a surprise?” A silky low voice rose above the sound of horses and people. Alex would know Catrina’s breathy tones anywhere. She turned to see Declan’s intended riding toward them on an intersecting path, her grey mare a wonderful backdrop for her habit, a work of art in shades of coral. An older, bald gentleman accompanied her atop a docile looking bay.
With a steady hand, Declan reined Knight up beside Catrina. How Alex wished she could ignore them, but she halted Blade next to Knight.
Declan wore the expression of a boy who’d been caught stealing biscuits. “Lady Catrina, I didn’t know you were riding this morning.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. This is my cousin, Lord Danby.” Catrina gave Alex a coldly polite smile. “Lord Danby, may I introduce the Countess of Lochsdale and Lord Worthington.”
The little man bobbed his head in Alex’s direction as he twisted his horse’s reins. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’ve seen very little of you, Lady Lochsdale.” Catrina didn’t even glance her way. Instead, she gave Declan a seductive look, making Alex feel like an interloper. “Lord Worthington and I have been making up for lost time.”
At least Declan didn’t return her warm regard. In fact, judging from his clenched jaw, her insinuations annoyed him.
“Are you enjoying the Season, Lady Lochsdale?” Catrina asked.
“Yes.” She could have replied the moon was blue, and Declan’s intended would never have noticed.
“Lord Worthington, I wonder if I might see you at Lady Ashton’s this evening?” Catrina moved her h
orse closer to Declan’s mount.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Alex turned to Declan. “I think I’ll go and allow Blade to graze under that little grove of trees.” She indicated a spot several hundred feet further up the path to the right. “I’m sure you and Lady Catrina have much to discuss.”
She didn’t give Declan a chance to say no. With a tug on Blade’s reins, she cantered away. There wasn’t any reason to stay. It hurt too much, watching the two of them together, knowing Catrina would someday be his wife.
Several laughing couples dotted the main path. To avoid them, she veered off and entered a cluster of trees. To her delight, someone had put a bench under one of the massive oaks. She dismounted, wandered over to the bench, and sat down.
The branches created a canopy overhead, as if she were in the middle of a forest. She couldn’t see the path or hear the bustle of Society beyond her haven. It felt good to have some time in the woods. Alone. Problems had always seemed smaller to her when surrounded by nature. It put things in perspective.
She leaned back and shut her eyes, letting the pleasant sounds of the small creatures she heard in the underbrush soothe her. A nearby branch snapped. She opened her eyes, and a prickle of awareness spread across the surface of her skin.
She wasn’t alone.
Without warning, she was shoved forward and a cloth sack dropped over her head from behind, blocking out daylight. She clawed at the hands gripping the material, until another person yanked her to her feet. The bag fell below her waist, and her attackers wrapped it tight against her body, pinning her hands and arms. They wound a rope from her elbows to below her waist, cinching it tight.
She couldn’t breath. Her mouth opened to scream. Dust filled her lungs, choking her.
Think. She stood still, trying to make out the muffled voices of her captors.
“Ye got her? That’s a good girl. Don’t struggle. Won’t do no good anyways, will it, Spider?” The man seemed to find that funny and started to laugh.
