by Dawn Ireland
At the earliest opportunity, she sent the young men on various tasks and went in search of Declan’s cousin. Anna was ensconced amidst her normal group of admirers. A dark-haired man, dressed as a pirate, hovered over her hand as if he never intended to give it up.
“Lady Anna,” Alex said. “I’m going out for a breath of air. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Lady Lochsdale, do you really think that’s a good idea? Perhaps I should go with you.” Anna’s voice lacked enthusiasm.
“No, I’ll only be gone a few minutes. You stay.” She turned and left before her friend’s conscience could get the better of her. She wanted be alone to think about what to tell Declan.
It wasn’t nearly as crowded on the stairwell, and she could walk easily by the time she'd reached the doors that led out back to the gardens.
For the first time, she appreciated the elegance of her surroundings. Formal gardens descended off a paved terrace. Flambeaux lit several walkways, inviting her to explore their depths. She chose a path to the left and wandered down the stone steps.
Several minutes later, she came upon a hidden water garden enclosed by hedgerows. At the center of the small pool stood a whimsical fountain. Several winged cherubs poured water from an urn, while white marble dolphins frolicked below.
She crossed to the pool and knelt down, trailing her fingers through the cool water. On impulse, she removed her slippers and placed them at the edge, then lifted her skirt, and waded out to the center. It wasn’t very deep, coming just below her knees, but it felt wonderful.
“Aren’t you taking the costume of a water fairy a bit too seriously?” A smooth dark voice sounded above the tinkling fountain. “Though I do admire the view it affords me.”
Startled, she searched for who had spoken. She recognized Lord Duprey by the hooded monk’s robe he’d been wearing earlier. In the flickering firelight, the costume did nothing to dispel her unease, especially as he was standing in the only exit to her secluded garden.
She felt for the reassuring heaviness of her knife. Thank God she’d sewn a sheath for her blade into a pocket, after discovering she wouldn’t be able to wear her customary boots.
With as much speed as possible, she got out of the pool and put her slippers on while he watched. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you, of course.” He crossed over to the pool, standing closer than she’d like. “Lord Worthington tells me you’re going to decide whom you’ll marry this evening. I wanted to make it very clear that I’m interested.”
He’d removed his domino. She could see the silver glitter of his eyes, in spite of the shadow cast by the hood. She moved out of his reach. “I’m flattered, but I’m afraid I’ve chosen another.”
“That would be a shame.” He stepped closer. Before she realized what was happening, he’d reached up and untied the ribbons to her domino. The green and gold creation fluttered to earth. “There, now I can see your beautiful face.”
She started to bend down to retrieve it, but he grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. With her right hand, she reached for the blade in her pocket.
“You don’t know what you’d be missing. I kissed you once long ago,” Lord Duprey said, lowering his head to hers, “but my passion wasn’t fueled as it is now.”
The demanding kiss made her feel ill. Even when Declan kissed her in anger, it had never been like this. She worked feverishly at the knife in its secret compartment. Her hand closed over her weapon as she brought her knee up to Duprey’s groin. She didn’t hit her mark, but managed to break free and back away.
He laughed, his teeth shining white in the dimness of his hood. “A fighter. I like that in a woman.”
Lord Duprey started toward her, but she held her blade out between them. “If I were you, I wouldn’t come any closer.”
The man had the audacity to smile as he continued to advance. “Do you think that little thing will stop me?”
“I’m betting it would.” Declan’s voice came from the shadows. “But then again, if it didn’t, I’d have to.”
Her guardian stood in the shadows, with his shoulder resting against one of the solitary pillars scattered throughout the gardens. With his arms crossed over his chest, he looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world. Relief flooded her, not that she couldn’t have handled the situation.
“This is a private conversation.” Lord Duprey no longer sounded quite so cocky. “It doesn’t concern you, Worthington.”
“Doesn’t it? Last I knew, Lady Lochsdale was still my ward.” Declan moved a few steps closer.
“Consider carefully, Lady Lochsdale,” Lord Duprey said. “I could ruin you. A woman who carries a knife is scandalous,” he said, taking another step toward her, “but add a few well-placed rumors about you and your guardian, and you’d never be accepted in polite society again.”
“The Countess of Lochsdale has been well chaperoned.” At the control she heard in Declan’s voice, she backed up. “As for the knife, it was a part of her costume.” He gave a slight shrug as he stepped away from the pillar.
Her attacker recognized his danger too late. In an instant he found himself dangling up against the shrubbery, Declan’s hands around his throat. The smug look on his face changed to desperation as he attempted to breathe.
“Now, we’re going to have a little chat,” Declan said. “You will not be spreading unfounded lies about Lady Lochsdale, will you?” Judging from Lord Duprey’s bulging eyes, Declan had increased the pressure. The man could barely shake his head from side to side.
Declan released him suddenly. Duprey fell to the ground, his dark monk’s robes pooling around him. “If I hear even the slightest whisper of scandal, I’ll come looking for you. Do we understand one another?”
Lord Duprey nodded and stood. At the entrance to the path, he turned and struggled to speak. At last a hoarse whisper rattled from his chest. “You haven’t heard the last of this. I’m going to enjoy seeing you brought to your knees, Worthington.”
“If you think you’re going to do it, you’ll be waiting forever.” Declan adjusted his cuffs and straightened his coat.
Lord Duprey gave them a venomous look and left.
“You shouldn’t have come out here alone.” Declan came to stand beside her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” She slipped her knife back into the sheath in her pocket and bent down to retrieve her domino. “I think I can safely remove Lord Duprey from my list.” She smiled up at his darkly masked face. “I didn’t like the way he kissed, anyway.”
“Are you such an authority?”
“I know what I like.”
Declan reached out and traced her lips with his index finger. “And what do you like?”
“I don’t think I should tell you.”
“Why not? I could help. You need to consider everything when you chose a husband. For instance, I doubt you’d get much kissing from Lord Holdon.”
“What makes you say that?” She thought of kissing the balding older man and felt slightly repulsed.
“He’s too old for you, Lady Lochsdale.”
“Perhaps, but what about Lord Brighton? He’s young and pleasing to look at.”
Declan shrugged. “I’ve heard it said he prefers boys.”
Her face grew warm. Long ago she’d overheard Paddy talking to one of the boys who wanted to hire on the White Falcon. Paddy advised against it, telling him the captain used his cabin boys as he would a woman.
“And what’s wrong with Lord Avery?”
“Nothing yet. Except he needs your money.”
“They all need my estates. That’s why I chose them.”
“I’m not letting you marry someone who can’t provide for you.”
“I can provide for myself.”
“What about love?”
“You are the last person to talk about love. I’m surprised you even know the emotion exists.”
“My decision stands, Alex. I’m not going t
o let you marry any of the four.” He reached out and took her arm, his voice softening. “I’m just asking you to wait until someone more appropriate comes along.”
She jerked out of his grasp. “And who’s going to tell Luther to wait?” This was pointless. She turned away and headed toward the path.
“Alexandra, come back here.”
She ignored him and started to run back toward the manor, favoring her aching ankle. If Declan thought he could protect her, he didn’t know Luther.
“What might you have done to upset all the women?” Morgan’s voice was muffled as he faced the library bookshelves.
“Nothing.” Declan grabbed the crystal decanter of cognac and a glass, then fell into a chair across from the fireplace. He filled his snifter, and set the decanter on a table nearby. “Lady Lochsdale is just being unreasonable.”
He raised the glass to his lips and let the fiery liquid poor down his throat. It seemed like a soothing balm compared to the last few hours.
He attempted to swirl the remaining spirits in the snifter, but the contents refused to stay in the glass. The amber liquid sprayed in all directions. Was he foxed? Not bloody likely. He must just be more tired than he realized.
After all, Morgan was still sober, and he had matched him drink for drink. Or did Morgan just appear sober?
They’d left the masquerade shortly after the interlude in the garden. No one spoke on the return trip, which was fine with Declan. The women acted like he was an ingrate and immediately retired to their chambers, so he and Morgan had sequestered themselves in the library with his favorite cognac.
How had his life become such a muddle? Why couldn’t Alex just do as she was told?
He’d complained about the foolishness of women until Morgan reached over and took the drink out of his hand. “I’m thinking you’ve had enough.”
He reached for his glass. “Had enough for what?”
Morgan kept it away from him and poured the last of its contents on the fire. The flames flared briefly, sending sparks up the chimney. Morgan put their glasses on a marble-topped table, then leaned against the mantle, studying his friend. “Lady Lochsdale looked beautiful tonight.”
“I noticed.” Hell, he couldn’t help but notice. Every man in the room had watched her. By the look on their faces, they were mentally trying to remove the transparent layers of her costume. He should never have let her go out looking like that.
Morgan crossed to a chair next to his, and sat down. “Lady Lochsdale told me you were having a bit of trouble with Lord Duprey.”
Declan sank back into the leather cushion of his chair. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He closed his eyes, but the sight of Alex in that pool was indelibly etched on his eyelids. He opened them again and tried to focus on Morgan.
“She also mentioned you’d not been pleased with her choice of a husband, and, in fact, turned down all of her possible suitors.” Morgan raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you think that’s wise?”
“I can protect her until she finds someone suitable. None of them deserve her. She’ll eventually come to see that.”
“You’d not be in love with her, would you?”
“Of course not.” Declan gazed into the fire. He had never loved any woman, and he wasn’t about to start now. Alex said he didn’t know love existed. She was wrong. He knew it existed. That was the problem.
“Might there be a possibility you could fall in love with her?”
“Never.” He tried to give Morgan a look of assurance.
“Well then, I’m thinking I’ve solved your problem.” Morgan had the look of a man who’d come up with the best idea since the invention of the carriage. “It’s you who should be marrying Lady Lochsdale.”
“What!” He shook his head. His friend had gone mad. “That’s the most ridiculous idea you’ve come up with yet.”
“Why?”
“Because, because...” He couldn’t tell Morgan that he was afraid he’d come to love Alex. He’d just admitted he wouldn’t. And he did have a choice, didn’t he? Just because he wanted her desperately didn’t mean he couldn’t keep her at an emotional distance. As a matter-of-fact, once his body got what it craved, he could treat her like any other woman.
“Exactly,” Morgan said, as if reading his mind. “I’m thinking it’s the perfect solution. You get your heir with no strings, and Lady Lochsdale would be out Addington’s reach for good.” He studied him for a moment, then added, “She might be wanting to go back to her estates, once she’s given you a son.”
“After that,” Declan said with a shrug, “she can do as she pleases.” It made sense, and best of all, she’d be his wife. His body fairly sang for joy. He got to his feet, not wanting to waste one more minute.
“Where might you be going?”
“I’ve got to tell her.”
“I’ll be letting myself out.”
He couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard Morgan chuckling as he left.
Chapter 16
“We’re getting married.”
Alex’s sleep-shrouded brain could have sworn she heard Declan’s voice. She opened her eyes. It was Declan. He sat on the edge of her bed. “What did you say?”
He leaned toward her. “I said we’re getting married.”
“That’s what I thought.” The smell of strong spirits assailed her nose. “What are you doing in my room, and what makes you think I’d marry you?”
“You certainly wanted me the other night.”
“Yes, but as I recall, you didn’t want me.”
“Things have changed.” He leaned down and started nibbling on her neck.
“How?” It took momentous effort to get out that one syllable with all her attention focused on that little spot under her ear.
Declan drew back, his hands on her shoulders. “I realized, since I don’t love you, it’s not a problem for us to marry.”
“That doesn’t make sense.” She broke free and wrapped the sheet around her naked body, then backed out of his reach. “What about Catrina?”
“She’ll find someone else. You’re the one who needs to marry quickly.”
How could she marry him when he didn’t love her? She would come to resent his indifference. But what if, once they were married, he returned her feelings? Should she take the chance?
Declan’s hair had come free of its queue and hung down around his face. She wanted to reach out, entwine her fingers in his black locks, and pull his mouth to hers. Sanity prevailed. “My lord, I—”
“Declan.”
“Fine, Declan, we can’t marry.”
He stood and ran his hand through his hair, pulling it away from his face. “Why not?”
Any of her suitors would be preferable to him. With them it would be strictly a business arrangement. Love wouldn't be involved. Before she could say anything, he answered his own question.
“You needn’t feel restricted by me, Alex. All I ask is you supply me with an heir. Something we both want. After that, I don’t care where you go.”
Stung, she got off the bed and awkwardly walked to the window, her sheet dragging behind her like a train.
“You’re welcome to return to your grandfather’s estate.” Declan sounded like he was offering her a much-awaited treat.
She turned to look at him. “How nice.” Her voice reflected hurt and disappointment, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“I’ll stay in London and let you take care of things on your estates.” He grinned at her. “Of course, I’ll expect quarterly reports.”
“Of course, and our son? Would you expect me to leave him behind?”
“He’ll stay with you until he needs to learn about his responsibilities.”
“You have it all worked out, don’t you?” She felt caught between a marriage she desperately wanted, and the knowledge that he would destroy her if he didn’t eventually return her love. “All I have to do is agree to a loveless marriage.”
“As I recall, you were going to marry wi
thout love anyway. You don’t feel anything for your other suitors, do you?” He seemed concerned about her answer.
“No.” She might as well answer truthfully. “But why should I marry you?”
“Because I can give you the freedom you crave. What better reason? I’ll let you do as you please, after you produce an heir.”
“What if you change your mind?”
“I won’t. I honor my contracts.” Declan walked over and captured a curl that lay on her bare shoulder. He appeared fascinated by it, twining the strands around his index finger. “It won’t be so bad, Alex. This may surprise you, but most women find me attractive.” He smiled at her, humor and warmth in his eyes.
The smile was her undoing. She wanted to see his smile, every day, for the rest of her life. She reached up and traced his mouth with her fingertip. He captured her hand and pressed a kiss in the center of her palm.
“All right, I’ll marry you.” This moment should be filled with joy, but all she felt was foreboding. What if she couldn’t make him love her?
A scraping noise in the hallway drew their attention to her bedroom door. Declan had left it ajar.
He motioned for her to be silent, picked up the lamp, and went out into the hall, then returned a few moments later. “No one’s there. It must have been a tree branch on the hall window.”
Declan closed the door and turned to look at her. “You’re beautiful in the lamplight.”
His devilish grin made her quiver inside.
“I think you should always wear a sheet.”
She wanted to be beautiful. Every female they’d met had flirted with him, but now he was going to be hers. He may not love her, but at least she’d be part of his life.
He was still dressed for the masquerade, but his cravat hung loose and slightly off center. His hair brushed his shoulders, giving him a slightly wicked look. Even in disarray, he’d never been more handsome.
Somehow, she had to find a way to unlock the love he guarded so jealously.
He placed the lamp on the table and slowly walked toward her. His blue eyes seemed to be lit from within by an intensity she didn’t understand. “I’ve wanted you since that first day you challenged me in the library.”
