Midnight My Love

by Anne Marie Novark

  "I'm proficient, merely. I can't play nearly as well as you." Jenny cast an anguished look at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

  "Don't be sorry, my dear. It's all right." Robert quickly turned away. He could no longer play, and Jenny had just refused to play for him. Was music lost to him forever?

  Jenny hurriedly sat at the piano and rifled through the sheet music. "What would you like to hear?"

  Easing his tall frame into a chair, Robert leaned his head against the cushioned back. She was going to play for him after all. With eyes half closed, he answered her. "Mozart, Jenny. Let it be Mozart."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Alex sat at her worktable in the observatory. It was long past midnight. She and Damien were going over two crucial paragraphs in her thesis. He searched the journals, trying to find the exact reference to the George's position when the planet reached its perihelion--the point of orbit nearest the sun.

  Damien raked his fingers through his hair. "I know it's here, Alexandra. I remember reading it just the other day."

  Alex put the paper away. "Let's give it up for tonight. It's two in the morning. I can't concentrate anymore." She stood and stretched her neck, trying to ease the stiffness.

  "Ready for bed?" He walked around the workbench and stopped directly before her.

  Alex trembled. Damien was looking at her with an intensity that took her breath away. The candle guttered in its socket, and dark shadows surrounded them in the flickering light. She kept her eyes on the floor.

  When they worked side by side, Alex could almost forget Damien's past indiscretions. The old camaraderie was back in place; only now there was an underlying current between them. At times like this--when the work was done, the lights low, and she was lulled into a sense of security--Alex felt his magnetism. She was drawn to Damien, there was no question about it. Their minds were in accord, united toward a common goal. She trembled again, pushing away the thought of their bodies in like accord.

  Alex blurted out what had been uppermost in her mind all day. "Do you think Robert was trying to kill himself when he took off in the gig this afternoon?"

  The sleepy passion left Damien's eyes. He stepped closer. "I think . . . I know Robert has longed for death since he lost his arm."

  Alexandra closed her eyes tightly, trying to suppress the grief which shook her. Damien stood dangerously near. How would it feel if he took her in his arms and held her? She could imagine his lips brushing her hair.

  When she could command her voice, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Must I live in constant dread then? That Robert will try to take his life?"

  Damien shook his head. "I think it's safe to say Robert is past the worst of his depression now. Something snapped today when he jumped in the gig. He may have started out with desperate intentions, but I believe he realized he had much to live for when death was so near."

  Alex straightened her skirts and stared into the golden eyes soberly regarding her. "Robert is very lucky to have you for a friend."

  Damien took her hand and placed a kiss upon her wrist.

  Alexandra's heart pounded in her throat. Her skin burned where his lips touched.

  "Robert is lucky to have you for his sister," Damien replied huskily. His face was inches from hers. Alex thought he meant to kiss her. Abruptly, he let her hand fall. The warmth had left his eyes, replaced by a coldness that left Alex shivering inside.

  Picking up the candle, Damien lighted the way down the darkened stairwell, leaving Alex to follow as best as she could.

  ****

  The sun was bright and the breeze pleasant as Robert reclined on a chaise longue under the old willow tree in the East Garden. Jenny sat in a lawn chair beside him. She was embroidering an intricate pattern on the tambour frame in her lap. She stole a quick glance at him and Robert thought he detected stress in her beautiful gray eyes. He suddenly wanted to take a turn about the garden and cursed his clumsiness as he started to rise.

  Jenny picked up her scissors and snipped her thread. "You must strive for patience," she said, her eyes never leaving her work. "It will take time to master rising from your chair with any semblance of grace. However, the more you do get up and about, the easier it will become."

  Robert smiled at the brown head bent over the embroidery frame. "Always full of good sense, my dear," he said. "Please walk with me, Jenny." He offered his arm, and she stood and took hold of it.

  As they strolled through the flower gardens, Jenny picked a bouquet of pink and yellow roses. "You're improving daily and losing some of the awkwardness you felt at first," she said. "Don't you think it's time you got on a horse--to see if you can ride again? Riding is different than driving, you know. Rochdale told me about a Captain Tucker who lost an arm in an accident several years ago. He still rides to hounds with Mr. Assheton-Smith and the Quorn every hunting season."

  Robert's lips tightened. "Don't push me, Jenny. After trying my luck with the gig, I'm afraid I must shy away from horses altogether. I'm content with learning the simple things first--like eating and writing. It's damned frustrating when I can't cut my own meat at dinner, and I don't find it easy to write with my left hand, as you well know."

  Jenny looked away and Robert knew he'd hurt her feelings. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Jenny had been his mainstay during this harrowing convalescence. Her acceptance of his disability, her patience when she guided his hand as he practiced writing, and her encouraging and practical advice had become dear to him.

  How could he have come this far, if not for Jenny? A month ago, he hadn't wanted to live. Now he awoke each morning, ready to tackle the hurdles cast his way. But he needed sweet Jenny to help coax him along.

  "I'm sorry, Jenny--" He stopped short when she raised tear-drenched eyes to his. He forced himself not to hug her close. "Don't cry, please. I didn't mean to be abrupt with you. You don't push me; far from it. I'm grateful for all of your patience and assistance. I owe you a debt of gratitude for helping me learn to be whole again."

  Jenny broke away from him, her lips trembling. "I don't want your gratitude," she cried and fled toward the house.

  Robert stared after her, wondering what he'd said to make her weep.

  ****

  Alex received the morning post from Sterling and retired to the back parlor. Seated at her desk, she sorted through the mail, stifling a yawn. She and Damien had stayed up late again, working on her thesis. Every night for the past two weeks they had withdrawn to the observatory after tea. Every night, Aunt Haygood's lumbago grew worse.

  Her aunt had nothing to worry about, thought Alex. Rochdale wasn't really interested in her. But he was interested in the hypothesis and the paper she was working on. His insights and different perspectives on her research were invaluable. He supported her meager efforts at writing and encouraged her when she lost confidence.

  Alex loved the late nights in the observatory. She always felt happiest when she was up there. Now she had someone to share her fascination and enthusiasm--something she'd missed since her father died.

  She dismissed the seeming intimacy that was growing between Damien and herself. She refused to acknowledge any feeling stronger than friendship. The warmth in his eyes and the caress she heard in his voice were merely his trademarks. She never allowed herself to forget Rochdale was an accomplished rake.

  Alex opened a letter from the Earl of Thane. He and Felicia would be arriving day after tomorrow. Alex rushed to tell Robert the good news. She met Jenny coming in the French doors leading to the gardens. Jenny hurried past her, head down and a handkerchief held to her lips. Alex thought she was crying.

  "Jenny, what on earth is the matter?" she called.

  Jenny shook her head and retreated toward the stairs. Alex stared after her, then saw Robert coming up the path. She went to confront her brother.

  "Robert Turlington! What have you done to make Jenny cry?" she demanded, blocking his way.

  "Nothing, I swear it," he said. "I was just thanking her f
or all of the kindness and patience she's shown me the past few weeks. Before I had finished, she'd turned into a watering pot and stormed off."

  Taking his arm, Alex clung to Robert as they meandered back down the path. "I guess I shall have to take your word for it. I'll speak with Jenny later." She waved the note she was holding in front of her brother's face. "The earl and Felicia will be arriving on Thursday. I know you'll be glad to see your fiancée."

  Robert hesitated. "Yes, of course. Though I still worry about her reaction to my injury."

  Alex gently squeezed his arm. "If she sincerely loves you, it won't matter. Besides, Jenny and I accept you as you are, and the loss of your arm is not your only flaw, my dear brother."

  Robert grinned at the mischievous light in his sister's eyes. "You do know how to take a fellow down a peg, don't you? Jenny never treats me so shabbily. She tells me if I practice patience and perseverance, I shall come about."

  Alex picked up her friend's forgotten embroidery frame from the lawn chair. "Jenny is full of pragmatic good sense, and she's as sweet as she is lovely. She would never treat you badly, because she's a guest in this house. I, on the other hand, can treat you any way I wish. A sister's privilege, you see."

  "Saucy minx," Robert said with an indulgent laugh. "I pity the man who marries you, my dear. He'll always feel the lash of your pert tongue."

  Alex saw a frown furrow his brow. "What is it, Robert? Are you in pain?"

  Robert sank onto the chaise longue. "The only pain I feel is caused by the fast approach of your suitor. It pains me to see Carlisle underfoot every day. Surely, you're not seriously considering his offer. He doesn't know where to look when he's near me. You can't deny he's uncomfortable with the loss of my arm."

  Alex forced a smile as Sir Howard came near. "It's difficult for some people to accept other's disabilities. He'll soon grow accustomed."

  Carlisle bowed low over Alexandra's hand. "Lovely day to enjoy the great outdoors," he said, then nodded toward Robert. "Glad to see you up and about, Turlington. Can't stay in bed all your life. I must say I admire the way you've recovered from your terrible ordeal."

  Alex glanced at her brother and saw his lips tighten. Robert was right. Carlisle was uncomfortable around him. The squire looked everywhere except at Robert, even when he was speaking directly to him. And for the first time, she noticed the condescending tone he used when addressing Robert, though he tried to cover his embarrassment in a loud, cheerful voice.

  Robert slowly stood. Alex saw him striving to avoid any clumsiness. "If you will excuse me, I'll take that embroidery frame back to Miss Sedgewicke."

  Carlisle grabbed the frame. "Don't bother, Turlington. We'll see that it is returned to Miss Sedgewicke. Surely a servant can carry it back to the house." He glanced around as if he could conjure an underling from the bushes and missed the murderous look in Robert's eyes.

  "I'm perfectly capable of carrying it, Carlisle," Robert said, his teeth clenched as he extended his arm toward the tambour frame.

  Sir Howard's face reddened. "Sorry, Turlington. I never meant to imply that you weren't."

  Alex hastily intervened. "Of course, you didn't. You don't realize how improved Robert is." She handed the frame to her brother and saw Rochdale descending upon them. Carlisle stiffened, while Robert visibly relaxed as the viscount walked up the path.

  Alex appreciated the way Rochdale never patronized her brother. When Robert was feeling sorry for himself, Damien told him to go take a damper. He didn't waste any pity on Robert, but tried to help him cope with his disability.

  Damien leaned against the willow tree, folded his arms across his chest and lazily surveyed the group. Alex thought he looked like a pirate with his swarthy skin and muscular build. She caught a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he glanced her way.

  Reaching into his pocket, he took out a lacy handkerchief. "You forgot this last night, my dear," he said, his voice low and seductive. "A most enjoyable and productive evening, wouldn't you agree? I'm pleased to see you looking quite refreshed this morning after being up so late."

  Alex heard Carlisle's sharp intake of breath. She knew Rochdale was purposely taunting the squire. Gritting her teeth, she accepted her handkerchief with a smile. "So thoughtful of you, my lord. Your kindness overwhelms me. Carlisle, you must know Rochdale is helping me with my research in the observatory. You recall that I told you I'm writing a paper to submit to the Royal Society. Rochdale has agreed to lend his assistance."

  Carlisle stood rigid, his lips set in an uncompromising line. "I'm delighted you've found someone to help with your little hobby, my dear. Shall we take a turn about the gardens?" He offered his arm to the reluctant Alex.

  Damien grinned. Alex knew he was enjoying her discomfort. He turned his attention to Robert. "I came to see if you'd care to ride in the south pasture this afternoon, Rob. I have a few ideas on how you could mount and control the horse with one arm. I was telling Miss Sedgewicke last evening about Captain Tucker."

  Carlisle shook his head. "Do you really think he's ready to ride? I should think after the gig ran away with him, he would realize . . ."

  Damien stared at Sir Howard and tried not to laugh. This was better than he'd hoped for. He'd deliberately asked Robert to ride in front of Carlisle, counting on the squire to voice an objection that would force Robert to accept the challenge.

  With green eyes blazing, Robert stepped forward. "Of course, I'll ride with you, Demon," he said. "Let me change into some riding togs and I'll meet you at the stables. Shall we say in fifteen minutes?"

  Alex watched as her brother walked toward the house. There was a determination in his stride and he looked more like his old self. When she turned grateful eyes on Rochdale, she flinched inwardly. She'd thought to find a friendly mocking in his gaze. Instead, she encountered a hard, implacable look.

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  Rochdale's eyes snapped. "You have nothing to thank me for, my dear." He turned on his heel and marched off to the stables.

  Alex allowed Carlisle to guide her along the stone walk in the gardens. She tried to ignore the hurt she felt at Damien's unexpected coldness. What was that all about?

  Sir Howard cleared his throat. "Miss Turlington," he began. "I really cannot approve of the intimacy I find developing between you and that libertine. It is most improper to be on a first name basis, especially with one of his stamp. I, who have courted you for more than a year, am not even allowed that privilege. Most improper, my dear!"

  "Yes, yes," she said impatiently. "I know it's a bit unusual, but since Rochdale and I are working closely together, and since he is my brother's good friend, we agreed to drop the formalities. I'm sorry you don't approve, but remember, you really have no authority over my actions yet."

  Carlisle stopped and grasped both of her hands. "Pardon me for being stern with you, my dear. I am extremely uneasy with Rochdale running loose at Willowmede. He is a very dangerous man, Miss Turlington. You don't know the half of what he's done and I wouldn't sully your innocent ears with his dastardly deeds."

  Alex withdrew her hands. "I cut my wisdoms long ago, Carlisle. I know what kind of man he is. Now, if you will excuse me, I find I have a headache."

  Sir Howard was all concern. "You must lie down at once. I wish you would take better care of yourself. These late nights pursuing your hobby cannot be beneficial to your health. I won't stand for such nonsense after we're married."

  "I think I will go lie down," Alex said. "Thank you for your visit. Lord Thane and Lady Felicia will be here on Thursday. Please come to dinner. I know you'll want to pay your respects to them."

  Carlisle beamed at the invitation. "Until Thursday, then. Go rest, my dear." He bowed over her hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

  Alex watched as he walked jauntily out of sight. She knew Carlisle was a good and honorable man. She couldn't help thinking he was extremely dull as well.

  ****

  Jenny wiped her eyes and blew her nose after in
dulging in a bout of tears in the privacy of her bedchamber. She was being silly and she knew it. Robert was engaged to be married. His fiancée was due to arrive any day now.

  She didn't know how she would manage to sit by and watch Robert and Lady Felicia together. She thought her heart would surely break, if it hadn't already. She was more in love with Robert than ever before.

  These past few weeks--taking care of him, helping him to overcome some of the obstacles he faced, listening to his fears, and offering encouragement--had been the happiest in her whole life. Spending each day with the man she loved, even though he didn't return that love, had been heavenly.

  Lately, she'd noticed Robert looking at her with tenderness in his eyes. Perhaps he was starting to feel more than friendship for her. Maybe he was beginning to love her just a little. That was nonsense, of course. He was in love with Lady Felicia.

  Jenny stared at her reflection in the mirror over her dressing table and sighed. She could never compete with the beautiful Lady Felicia Marlow. She had seen Robert's fiancée in London many times this past Season. She was a blonde ethereal beauty, tall and wispy. Was it any wonder Robert had fallen in love with her?

  Jenny would stay long enough to see if Robert truly loved Lady Felicia--and to make sure his love was returned. If Robert was happy, then she would leave Willowmede and go visit each of her brothers and their families. She would make her home with one of them and play the favorite maiden aunt.

  Jenny straightened her shoulders and blew her nose again. There was one more thing she could do to help Robert with his convalescence. He said he was frustrated because he couldn't cut his meat. Cook had been preparing his portions in bite-sized pieces for him. That wouldn't do when he went out in company. Jenny had an idea.

  She went down to the kitchens to consult Mrs. Abernathy and Mrs. Tolles. She found the women sitting at the big table drinking a cup of tea. Bread was rising near the hearth and Jenny smelled the comforting aroma of yeast. The kitchens were clean and scrubbed, neat and cozy.