Midnight My Love

by Anne Marie Novark

  The two women rose when they saw Jenny.

  "Miss Sedgewicke!" exclaimed Mrs. Tolles, the small round housekeeper. "What can we do for you, Miss?"

  Mrs. Abernathy fetched a cup from the cupboard. "How 'bout a spot o' tea, Miss?"

  Jenny smiled her thanks. "That would be most welcome." She sat down and sipped her tea, considering her next move.

  "I've come to ask for your help," she began, looking at each in turn. She saw a spark of interest in the women's eyes. "Your master is recovering nicely, but he's still very disheartened with his disability. He mentioned one thing in particular that's bothering him." She looked at Mrs. Abernathy. "I know Robert is grateful for all of your consideration in preparing foods he can easily handle. The stews and puddings have been wonderful. He manages well with the fork, but when it comes to cutting meat, he's experiencing great difficulty."

  Jenny smiled at the cook. "Robert is lucky to have such caring people in his household. Sending in his meat already cut has been extremely thoughtful. But your master must learn to do things for himself. When he goes out in company, he must be able to fend for himself at the dinner table."

  Mrs. Abernathy nodded. "Yes, Miss. Mrs. Tolles and I have been talking about it. But we can't think of a better way."

  When both women looked at her expectantly, Jenny knew she had their allegiance. "I've come up with a plan," she said. "It's simple, really. He needs an extraordinarily sharp knife. Not just any knife. It must be special. Something he can carry with him to dinner parties and one he's comfortable using."

  Mrs. Tolles jumped up. "I know the very thing. There's a small jeweled dagger in one of the cases in the armory. It's been in the family for years. It's beautiful, Miss, with a silver filigree holder."

  Jenny clapped her hands. "Perfect! Sterling or one of the footmen can sharpen and hone it. It must be sharp enough to shave with. Could one of you practice to see how best it can be used efficiently with one hand? Then you can show Robert. I would rather he didn't know this was my idea."

  "But, Miss . . ." protested the housekeeper.

  "Please, Mrs. Tolles. I have my reasons," Jenny said quietly. "Have someone fetch that dagger. The sooner, the better."

  ****

  Damien watched Robert as he practiced maneuvering his great black gelding around the field. It had taken considerable pressure to persuade Robert to mount again, but he knew Robert was finally past the dangerous depression which had threatened his life.

  Slackening his reins, Damien allowed his horse to roam at will, grazing on the green summer grass of the fertile pasture. Grinning, he thought of the good use he had made of Sir Howard Carlisle. The squire had made an unforgivable gaffe when he insinuated Robert was unable to handle a horse.

  Damien knew Robert could barely tolerate the man. Who could blame him? The way he lived in Alexandra's pocket was disgusting. But after Carlisle's blunder, Damien could have shaken his hand. Robert was ready to prove he was not a helpless invalid.

  His grin faded when he thought of the gratitude reflected in Alexandra's eyes when she realized what he'd done. Damien didn't want her gratitude. He didn't know what he wanted from her. He knew he desired her in the physical sense, and the nights in the observatory were taking their toll. The more time he spent with Alexandra, the more attractive she became.

  Her emerald eyes, her full lips, her low musical voice--the sensual combination tormented Damien until he thought he would burst from need. He decided he'd visit the village soon, find a buxom barmaid, and relieve the smoldering tension in his loins. All he needed was a woman--any woman would do.

  Damn it! Why was he trying to deceive himself? Only Alexandra could douse the fires burning inside of him. Her alluring body wasn't the only thing he craved. He admired her quick wit, her intelligent observations, and her dedication to her father's theory. Her thesis would be outstanding and well received by the Royal Society.

  Damien enjoyed working with her. Astronomy had always fascinated him, but there were few people in the ton who shared his interest. Long ago, Robert's father had taken him under his wing and had even given him a small brass telescope one Christmas. He'd carried it with him ever since; it was in his coat pocket even now.

  Robert rode up beside him and Damien pulled on his horse's reins. His friend's face was ruddy from the exercise. He almost looked like his old self again. "You seem to be doing splendidly, Rob. Ready to take a fence or two?"

  "Not yet," Robert said with a grin, patting Titus's sleek shining neck. "Although, I think I've accomplished quite a bit this morning. It isn't as difficult as I thought it would be. Who knows? I may try my hand with the gig again."

  Damien rode beside Robert as they guided their mounts to the stables. "Perhaps. But before you try your skill with the ribbons, maybe you should master some simpler tasks. I know you've been working on writing with your left hand. Have you thought about shuffling cards and playing whist?"

  "Yes, and I must learn to take snuff without spilling it all over my blasted shirt," he said.

  Damien laughed. "If you visited Town more often, you would know the correct way to take snuff is with one hand. You would do well to emulate Brummel. He uses his left hand and does it with infinite grace."

  Robert threw his reins to a waiting groom and dismounted. "I'm sure you can show me the precise way. I know how much you admire the Beau." He ducked as Rochdale tossed his riding crop at his head. He picked it up and handed it back to the viscount with a grin. "Aim's wide off the mark this morning, Demon. Never known you to miss a target before. I think I'll go to the kitchens to beg sustenance from Mrs. Abernathy. Care to join me?"

  Damien declined the invitation, smiling to himself as Robert started for the house. He was glad to see his friend regaining some of his self-confidence. He was recovering rapidly, and soon Damien would be able to leave Willowmede.

  It was time he left. More than time. He had to get away from Alexandra. It was becoming increasingly difficult to be near her and not touch her. Damien detested the feelings he experienced when Alex was near. He had sworn no woman would ever hold power over him and he meant to stand by his oath.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Robert entered the house by the back way, going through the servants' hall toward the kitchens. His stomach growled with hunger. The workout he'd put himself through with Titus had stirred his appetite.

  He felt good that he was still able to ride. With some practice, he knew he would be competent again. Jenny was right. He would come about with patience and perseverance.

  Walking into the kitchen, he discovered Mrs. Abernathy busily preparing a pheasant for the night's meal. He smiled. "Don't let me disturb you, Mrs. A. I thought I'd make a sandwich to tide me over until tea-time. Is there some cold meat and cheese in the pantry?"

  Mrs. Abernathy wiped her large hands on her apron. "And what if there is? Ye won't be making yer own sandwich, m'lord. No, not while I have a breath left in me body. You sit right down and let me make you some fine sandwiches and pour you a tankard of ale. It won't be a minute before we have ye fixed up." She waddled off to the pantry to fetch the cold Yorkshire ham and some sharp cheddar cheese.

  Robert grinned as he sat at the table near the hearth. Nothing pleased Mrs. Abernathy more than to be able to feed someone. All of his life, she had tried to fatten him up.

  His thoughts were diverted when Sterling and a menial entered the room. They stopped short when they saw their master, and Robert noticed they looked strangely uneasy. Sterling was carrying a gold dagger of sorts. It looked vaguely familiar.

  "My lord!" said the butler. He quickly handed the dagger to the footman and dismissed him. The young man hesitated, looked at the dagger, then glanced anxiously at his lord and master.

  Something was up. Robert thought he'd never seen two more guilty looking people in all his life. He confronted his servants. "What have you got there, David? May I see it?" He held out his hand. David looked at Sterling. The butler nodded.

  Robert exami
ned the beautiful knife. He would know it anywhere. More like a short dirk than an actual dagger, the handle was turned in gold with a large ruby embedded in the end of the hilt. Carefully, and a bit awkwardly, he unsheathed the blade and admired its gleam in the sunlight pouring from the window. The sheath was worked in gold and silver filigree, set throughout with tiny rubies. It was a magnificent instrument.

  Robert stared at Sterling. The butler heroically held his lord's penetrating gaze. "This has been up in the armory for years," he said quietly. "I often admired it as a child. Been in the family since before Cromwell, I believe. What are you doing with it, Sterling?"

  The butler cleared his throat. "It was thought, my lord, meaning no disrespect, you understand . . . It came to someone's attention, that your lordship was having difficulty at the dinner table. Someone thought a very sharp knife, one sharp enough to shave, would be of benefit to you, my lord.

  "Someone thought a special kind of knife, one which your lordship could carry with you, would help at the table. Especially when eating in company."

  Robert regarded the dirk, then gazed at the butler thoughtfully. "This was Miss Sedgewicke's idea, wasn't it?"

  Sterling stared at an invisible spot on the opposite wall. "I couldn't say, my lord. It was Mrs. Tolles who sent me for the dagger."

  Robert smiled slowly. Ah, Jenny. What will you think of next? "And what is the plan, Sterling? Out with it! I might as well know what's in store for me."

  The butler gazed at his master. A look of understanding passed between the two men. "Well, my lord," he said, clearing his throat again, "I'm to sharpen the blade until it shaves the hair off my arm. Then Mrs. Tolles and I are going to practice cutting meat with one hand to find the most proficient way to use the blade."

  Robert nodded. "Go on."

  "We were going to demonstrate to your lordship so you could practice and feel more adept when eating in company," Sterling said.

  Robert handed the dagger to the butler. "I know this is Miss Sedgewicke's idea. I don't understand why she wants to keep it secret. It's of no matter. We're going to give her a little surprise. Sharpen that blade as soon as possible. Then bring it, along with some meat, up to my rooms. I'll practice today and tomorrow, and I'll use it at dinner Thursday night."

  Mrs. Abernathy returned with a tray of sandwiches, almost dropping them when she saw Robert and the dagger. Robert smiled. "Mum's the word, Mrs. A." He bit into the sandwich's thick crust and chewed thoughtfully.

  So, Jenny thought she was pulling a fast one on him, did she? He would show her he still had a few tricks up his sleeve, even if he had only the one.

  ****

  The rattle of carriage wheels on the gravel drive heralded the arrival of Winston Marlow, Earl of Thane, and his daughter, Lady Felicia. Alexandra placed her copy of Bravo of Venice by Monk Lewis on the lacquered table beside her chair and crossed to the window to observe the arrivals.

  The earl's traveling carriage was a sight to behold. It was glossy black trimmed in silver with brass mountings. Besides the coachman, there were three outriders, two footmen, and two postillions. All were dressed in the magnificent maroon livery of the Thanes. Another carriage followed with a mountain of baggage on top and Lord Thane's personal servants within.

  It looked as if they meant to make a long stay. Alex fervently hoped not. The carriage stopped in front of the portico and the steps were let down. The earl emerged, followed closely by his beautiful daughter. She carried a small white pug in her arms.

  Lady Felicia Marlow was a lovely creature. She had silver blonde hair which framed a perfectly oval face. Her skin was porcelain, her nose short and retrousse, her lips were like rosebuds, and her eyes cornflower blue.

  Alex didn't know Felicia very well. When their paths had crossed in London, the girl always dutifully asked after Robert. Yet Alex sometimes wondered if the girl actually loved him. She had watched Felicia flirt heartlessly as she danced with all the Town bucks this past Season.

  She tried to dismiss the notion that Felicia wasn't true to Robert. Alex had encouraged him about Felicia's reception of his terrible loss, yet she wasn't really certain how his fiancée would feel about it. Despite her rare beauty, Felicia was regarded by the ton as spoiled, arrogant and demanding. Alex had little hope those characteristics lent themselves to constancy, especially when one of the engaged parties had returned maimed from the war.

  Sterling announced the guests and showed them into the Blue Saloon. Alexandra greeted them with a smile. "We've been eagerly awaiting your arrival, my lord. Won't you sit down? Would you care for some refreshment after your long journey? There's a nice burgundy laid by for you, Lord Thane. And we have ratafia or tea for you, my dear." She nodded to Sterling, then sat on the sofa beside Lady Felicia.

  Alex saw at once the younger girl seemed nervous and withdrawn, even a bit uncomfortable. Perhaps Felicia was anxious about Robert. She turned her attention to the earl.

  Winston Marlow, the seventh Earl of Thane, was a large round man with a jovial disposition. He tended toward corpulence like his friend, the Prince Regent. And like Prinny, Lord Thane refused to wear corsets. He was a member of the Carlton House set, indulged himself to excess, was phlegmatic and indolent, and never bestirred himself unnecessarily. He had one passion--fishing.

  The earl settled his great bulk in the large leather chair by the fireplace. "Well, well. Sad business about your brother, m'dear. How bad was he wounded?" He took out an exquisite porcelain snuff box and proceeded to take a pinch, sneezing three times and spilling half his mixture onto his chartreuse waistcoat.

  Alex hid her amazement at these extraordinary proceedings and answered calmly. "Robert is up and about now. He has regained his health remarkably well. He'll be happy to see both of you." She hesitated, not knowing how her audience would take the news. She took hold of Felicia's hand. "I'm afraid we were a little vague with the details concerning Robert's accident. You see, he was delivering orders in the heat of the battle. His horse was shot from under him and they both went down."

  She paused. The girl was trembling. She was so beautiful and perfect looking. Alex was afraid her brother was going to experience another devastating loss. She suddenly wished for Rochdale's strong presence. Quickly, she banished that treacherous thought from her head.

  "You see," Alexandra continued, "the horse fell on Robert and crushed his right arm. They tried to save it, but it was hopeless. Gangrene set in, and the arm had to be removed."

  Felicia looked horrified, then sobbed and buried her face in her pug's fur. Alex placed her arm around the girl's shoulder and let her cry.

  The earl shook his head. "A tragedy, to be sure," he said gruffly.

  Alex nodded. "Yes, it is tragic. Yet it could have been so much worse. We're thankful he's alive and healthy. Rochdale brought him home and has been immensely helpful in Robert's recovery. He's helped my brother relearn many things using only the one arm. In fact, they are riding again at this very moment."

  Lady Felicia looked up. Alex saw that even tears could not diminish the beauty of the girl's lovely face. If only her future sister-in-law's disposition equaled her looks, all would be well.

  Felicia dabbed her eyes with her lace handkerchief. "When must . . . may I see Robert?" she asked with tremulous lips.

  Alex hoped the slip didn't portend to trouble. "Robert should be back by the time you've changed out of your traveling dress and rested a short while. Let me show you to your chambers, where you can freshen up. I've had the Rose Bedroom prepared for you. I'm sure you'll find it to your liking."

  The Earl of Thane heaved his massive body from his chair. "Well, it won't help matters if I miss out on any of my fishing. If you don't mind, Miss Turlington, I want to check on those trout. You did say they were rising, didn't you? I'll get my gear and a servant can show me to the stream." His eyes glowed at the prospect.

  Alex smiled. "Don't you want to rest after your long trip? I'm sure the trout can wait, my lord."

 
; Lord Thane patted his hostess's hand and shook his fat jowls. "Trout never wait, m'dear," he answered simply.

  Alex rang the bell and directed a footman to accompany the earl. She then took Felicia up to her chamber. "Your maid has already unpacked and soon you will be rid of your traveling dirt."

  Felicia set the little pug down on the thick Aubusson carpet and looked around the charmingly appointed room. Alexandra knew it would please even the most discerning tastes. A mahogany four-poster with a dark rose counterpane dominated the room. Two gilt chairs in the French style stood by the tall windows. The walls were hung in rose damask, the ceiling and plaster-work were painted a rich ivory.

  "How lovely," exclaimed Lady Felicia. "Those chairs are simply divine and the bed hangings are magnificent!" She dashed to the window. "And such a marvelous view!" She stood gazing at the gardens.

  Alex straightened a figurine on the bedside table. "I'll leave you now. If you need anything, just ring."

  "Thank you, Miss Turlington," Felicia said, still gazing out the window.

  "Please, call me Alexandra."

  Felicia turned and smiled tightly. "Thank you, Alexandra."

  Alex went downstairs to consult with Mrs. Abernathy about dinner. She wondered at Felicia's stiffness. Her gushing enthusiasm about the room seemed somewhat forced. Alex hoped the girl was merely nervous. She couldn't help but wonder what kind of wife Lady Felicia would make for her brother.

  ****

  Robert sat at his dressing table as Ellis draped a neckcloth around his neck and began tying the fine linen. His loyal valet had been with him since before Cambridge. Robert had always dressed himself for the most part, but now he required more assistance. Ellis was quick, competent and matter of fact about everything.

  Robert had been informed Lady Felicia was waiting for him in the Picture Gallery. It was a wonder he wasn't more anxious about this first meeting. Instead, he was curiously calm.

  Sometime since his return to Willowmede, he discovered Felicia's reaction to his loss of arm didn't matter. In fact, Felicia herself didn't matter to him any longer.