Midnight My Love

by Anne Marie Novark

  A knock on her door was a welcome interruption. Jenny peeked cautiously into the room. "May I come in?"

  Alex summoned a smile for her friend. "Certainly, dearest. I'm afraid I abandoned everyone and played the hermit this afternoon."

  Jenny sighed. "I think Marcella Nugent makes a lot of us feel like hiding. I had to bite my tongue when she went on and on about 'poor poor Robert.' And Felicia just sat there, receiving Marcella's deepest sympathies. I was boiling mad, let me tell you. I still am."

  Alex nodded. "I know--your eyes were shooting silver sparks. Felicia must release Robert from this engagement. I can't bear the thought of him being tied to someone who pities him and is embarrassed to even look at him."

  She saw her friend blush and try to avoid her gaze. "What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?"

  Tears sparkled in Jenny's eyes. "I have to tell you something, Alex. I hope you aren't shocked. I . . . I'm in love with Robert."

  Alex stared at her for a moment, then ran to hug her close. "You silly goose! Why should I be shocked? How long have you loved him? Why, you'd be perfect for each other, and I couldn't wish for a better sister."

  Jenny's lips quivered slightly. "I don't know if Robert loves me, but I think he cares a little." She straightened her shoulders and sat taller. A militant light shone in her gray eyes. "I've decided Felicia cannot be allowed to marry Robert. She would make his life miserable. And you heard what Rochdale said at breakfast this morning. Robert can't cry off and she refuses to let him go."

  Jenny twisted the handkerchief she held in her hands. "Something must be done. Felicia has to end the engagement, then maybe I'll have a chance. If not, Robert shall find someone else who really loves him." She gave a strangled sob and fell into Alex's arms.

  Alexandra held her friend as she cried her heart out. Here was Jenny in a new light. Love did strange things to people--and made people do strange things. "Love," she whispered softly.

  Jenny pulled back and searched Alexandra's face closely. "I'm not the only one in love, am I? Admit it--you love Rochdale, don't you?"

  "No," Alex declared vehemently.

  "I think you do," Jenny persisted. "I saw your face when you realized he and Lady Nugent had been lovers."

  Alexandra clasped and unclasped her hands. Her chest constricted with a sharp throbbing pain.

  Jenny went on. "I remember when you told me about Rochdale kissing you in the observatory all those years ago. We were so young back then, weren't we? Oh, how your eyes glowed even though you swore you hated him--that he'd betrayed your friendship! I remember wishing Robert would kiss me, like Rochdale had kissed you. I was only fifteen, yet I knew I loved Robert, even then."

  Biting her lip, Alex turned to stare out the window.

  Jenny took hold of her hand. "It's been ten years, Alex. You've met many eligible men, but the pendulum always swings back to Rochdale, doesn't it? I know I've said Carlisle is the worthier man, but that was before I became better acquainted with the viscount. He has hidden qualities and you must learn to accept him for what he is."

  Alexandra mutely shook her head as Jenny continued. "I believe Rochdale loves you. I've seen his eyes follow you whenever you're in the room. He's a proud man, Alex, and something Robert let slip about Rochdale's mother makes me believe he has good reason to despise women."

  Alex jumped up and paced around the room. "If Rochdale loves me, how would I know it isn't a fleeting passion? He liked me when I was a child, but he withdrew his friendship. I've never understood why. What kind of a husband would he make? I caught a maid coming from his room the other evening. She said he'd grabbed her and . . ."

  "What did Rochdale say?"

  "He denied it, of course"

  "Can't you give him the benefit of the doubt?" Jenny asked.

  Alex sighed. "He's made the worst reputation for himself. If only half is true, it still proves he's a confirmed rake." "Yet he's your brother's best friend," Jenny reminded her. "And think how he's helped during Robert's convalescence."

  Alex wiped a wisp of hair from her forehead. "Don't you think I've been over all of this again and again? My brain's in a whirl," she cried. "I'd made up my mind to try and break through that hard wall Rochdale surrounds himself with, and then I found out about the maid."

  Jenny lifted her chin. "Well, I don't think even Rochdale would molest an unwilling maid and whatever else the viscount is, he is not a liar. If he said he's innocent, then I believe him," she stated firmly.

  "Do you really?" Alex asked, remembering Rochdale saying he'd never lie to her.

  Jenny nodded. "Yes, I do. Think a moment. Would Robert tolerate dishonesty in a friend?"

  Alex shook her head slowly. "No, I don't believe he would."

  "Well, then Rochdale must be telling the truth," Jenny replied sensibly. "Look, Alex. We've both waited far too long to find love. I don't know about you, but I'm through waiting. I refuse to sit silently and do nothing. I'm going to try for Robert's love. I may not win, but I will not be a bystander any longer. First of all, I must get him out of Lady Felicia's clutches."

  "How will you do that?" Alex eyed her friend with renewed admiration.

  "I don't know," Jenny said. "But I'll think of something."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  That night, Damien stood in the observatory and adjusted the telescope for a better view of the Georgium Sidus. It was late, almost two o'clock, but he wanted to observe the planet a little while longer.

  Looking at the stars in the quiet of the night always instilled in him a feeling of peace. Whenever he was feeling out of sorts, Damien knew he could find solace in the heavens. Yet whether he was in his own observatory at the Abbey or here at Willowmede, images of Alexandra seemed to take hold of his mind. Sometimes, he wondered if it was the stars or Alex's invisible presence that leant him comfort.

  He focused the metal cylinder and stared at the black sky. He couldn't rid himself of the picture of Alexandra's face when he had said they could never be friends. Damien knew he had hurt her deeply.

  But damn it! She'd blamed him for that incident with the chambermaid and he had not been at fault. Not this time. He barely remembered what the girl looked like. He certainly had no desire to take her to bed.

  Damien closed his eyes. It was Alex he wanted in his bed. He dreamed of igniting her smoldering passions until her emerald eyes glowed. He yearned to see her lovely body in all of its glory, with her magnificent hair unbound, tumbling down around them as they lay together.

  Straightening abruptly, Damien shook the images from his mind. He knew he couldn't take Alexandra without committing himself to marriage. Fight as he would, the insidious notion of spending his life with Alex had begun to look more and more enticing.

  Naturally, he'd wanted to postpone marriage as long as possible. He knew he'd have to marry eventually for the sake of an heir and always believed when it could be put off no longer, he would choose someone with excellent bloodlines--someone for whom he felt not the slightest affection. A marriage of convenience only.

  But the longer he stayed at Willowmede, the more he wanted Alex. He was beginning to see what a good marriage could be like. He enjoyed the day-to-day contact with Alex and looked forward to the nights when they could be alone in the observatory.

  It was a powerful lure. A potent aphrodisiac. A sweet torture.

  Damn it! He could never marry Alex. Even if he did, could they ever trust one another? No, she detested his way of life and he knew better than to trust a beautiful woman.

  For the first time in his life, Damien experienced a feeling of regret for his past. He had never bothered about his reputation before. In fact, from the moment he'd come into his honors at the age of sixteen, he'd done everything possible to blacken his name. Maybe Alexandra had good cause not to trust him.

  He shrugged and released the mechanism that closed the domed ceiling of the observatory. Sitting at the workbench, he looked through Alexandra's papers. The thesis was finished and should be se
nt to the Royal Society soon.

  The outer door opened, and Damien glanced up. Alexandra halted and stood staring at him. Her blue satin wrapper clung to her supple body; her chestnut hair hung over her shoulder in a long thick braid. A charming nightcap of matching blue satin sat pertly on her head.

  "Come in, Alexandra," Damien said.

  "I think not." She turned to go.

  "I never thought you were a coward, my love," he said, tauntingly.

  Alex whirled around. "I'm not your love, and I don't care what you think, my lord." She walked purposely toward the telescope. "I awoke and came to check on the George. What are you doing up here so late?"

  "Observing the stars, what else?" He watched as she pushed the lever to open the ceiling. She pointedly ignored him, going straight to the telescope.

  "When are you going to send your thesis to London?" he asked, abruptly.

  She shrugged a delicate shoulder and positioned the cylindrical tube. "I've decided not to send it."

  Damien gazed at her in disbelief. "You can't be serious. This could be a major breakthrough in scientific circles. I know of no other astronomer who has this particular theory, just yet. You must send it to the Royal Society."

  Alexandra turned flashing eyes on him. "Fortunately, you have no authority over my actions. I appreciate the time you've spent helping me, but I am not going to present the thesis. I have my reasons."

  Damien laughed derisively. "Yes, I can imagine what your reasons must be. I thought you were different, but I was wrong. You're fickle, like all women. If you're doing this to avenge yourself on me, you're wasting your time. Don't let what's happened between us keep you from fulfilling your promise to your father. Or have you forgotten you gave your word?"

  Alex merely stared, and Damien desperately wished to know what she was thinking.

  "Your father spent his life hoping to make a significant contribution to astronomy," he continued. "Forget what's between us, Alexandra. I certainly have. Send the thesis."

  She raised her chin. "I'll send it when I'm good and ready. And no, I haven't forgotten my promise to Papa. I don't believe I have enough data to support the theory and I don't want to appear the fool before the members of the Royal Society."

  "I see," Damien said. "And how much more data do you think is necessary, my dear? You've made meticulous entries in your journals for over five years. Your father's journals date even further back. Plenty of data, if you ask me."

  "Well, I'm not asking you," she said. "It's my thesis and I'm not ready to send it."

  "You may do as you wish, but if you don't send it now, you may regret it for the rest of your life. And you will have broken your promise to your father." Damien looked at her as she stood before him. Beautiful. Spirited. Stubborn. "I've always known a woman's word was worthless," he said scathingly. "Somehow, I thought Robert's sister would have a finer sense of honor."

  Alex trembled with fury. Damien knew he had pushed her too far. Her eyes raked him from head to toe. "Honor? You speak of honor? I won't stand here and be insulted by the likes of you. It is no concern of yours, whether I choose to send the thesis or not." She gathered her wrapper close about her and walked toward the door.

  Damien grabbed her wrist and yanked her to stand before him. Her nightgown and wrapper were thin--revealing every curve of her body, and the shimmery material afforded little protection as she fought to break free from his grasp. Silently he held her, easing his hold so as not to bruise her tender flesh. Finally, Alex ceased struggling and stared at the floor. Damien touched her chin and tilted her head, forcing her to look at him.

  Tears glittered in the depths of her green eyes. Her beauty literally took his breath away. Damien pulled her against his hard chest and held her for a moment. Why did she affect him so strongly?

  Quickly, he kissed the top of her head and pushed her away. "Go to bed, Alexandra," he said, roughly.

  Not wanting to see her leave, he turned to the workbench and idly picked up the thesis. He heard a muffled sob, the slam of the door. And he was alone . . . once again.

  ****

  Tuesday dawned clear and bright. Alexandra awoke to the cheerful chirping of the birds outside her window. She turned over and covered her head with a pillow.

  Today they were going to Bramble Court. Lord Thane, Rochdale, and Garr Fleming were probably already there. The fishing was best in the early morning hours, and the earl had wanted to get a good start. Robert planned to stay behind and escort the ladies after breakfast.

  Alexandra's head pounded. After her encounter with Rochdale last night, she had cried herself to sleep. He wasn't worth the tears, she thought, but knew she was fooling herself.

  Alex remembered him berating her about the thesis, then holding her in his arms. Whether he'd meant it to be or not, his embrace had been comforting. She'd felt a strange sense of contentment with his heart beating in her ear. Contentment mixed with desire. A dangerous combination.

  And what in the world had come over Damien? Why the uncharacteristic restraint? The friendly hug, the fleeting kiss on her head. Would she ever understand him?

  Maggie bustled into the room, setting a tray of hot chocolate near her mistress's bed. Humming a gay tune, the maid flung open the bed curtains and smiled a greeting.

  "Go away, Maggie," Alex grunted.

  "Now, Miss, do get up," Maggie said. "Tis a lovely day for a picnic." She straightened the covers as Alex sat up to drink her chocolate.

  "I don't feel up to a picnic today," she mumbled into her cup.

  Maggie eyed her mistress. "You do look a bit pale, Miss. Do you have the headache?"

  "Yes." Alex leaned back against her pillows and wiggled deeper under the covers.

  "I'll get the powders. We'll set you to rights in no time." She hurried downstairs.

  Several minutes later, Aunt Haygood appeared at the door.

  "I've brought some hot willow tea, my love. Maggie told me you were suffering with one of your headaches." She tiptoed into the room. "Drink this and take the powders, dear. I'll close the curtains, so you can rest. You don't want to miss the picnic. It's another couple of hours before we leave. Plenty of time to get rid of your headache." Kissing her niece on the forehead, she left the room.

  Alex lay in her darkened chamber, a lavender-soaked handkerchief over her brow. She didn't know what she was going to do about Rochdale. She was beginning to believe she loved him, had always loved him in fact.

  Alex took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Yes, she could admit it now. She loved Damien. A sensuous, bold warmth spread throughout her entire body. She loved Damien Avenall; she had loved him for a long time.

  Drat the man! His tenderness last night had been her undoing. She longed for his touch even when she was furious with him. If he'd tried to kiss her, Alex knew she would not, could not have resisted.

  Then what? He didn't love her, couldn't love her. Damien had spent his life distrusting women. He was a rake, a libertine.

  Alex sighed. Somehow, she must find a way to break through that hard, cynical shell he surrounded himself with. Somehow, she had to find a way to make him love her back.

  ****

  At a quarter past one, the Turlington carriage pulled to a halt in front of Bramble Court. Alexandra's headache had faded to a dull twinge, and she was ready to enjoy the promised picnic expedition. Although, enjoy might be too strong a word. Endure was probably better.

  Carlisle stood on the stone steps overlooking the drive. He appeared to be in his element as he waited to receive his guests.

  Bramble Court was a handsome early Georgian house of pale Bath stone. The large park had been landscaped by Capability Brown in the last century. Sir Howard employed numerous gardeners to keep the formal gardens surrounding the house lush and green. Everything at the Court was neat and precise. Just like Carlisle himself, Alex thought.

  Approaching the carriage with happy deliberation, Sir Howard beamed upon the ladies. "I left the others at the pond. They'll be
here shortly. We've had marvelous luck this morning, and the earl has been most pleased."

  Carlisle turned his attention to Robert, who was mounted on Titus. "Should have joined us, Turlington," he said, then paused and stammered, "No . . . I mean . . . that's right . . . you can't . . ." Sir Howard flushed.

  Robert dismounted and stumbled a bit when he lost his balance. Carlisle moved forward to help, but Robert shook him off. "Go assist the ladies," he said, through gritted teeth.

  The squire recovered and seemed only too happy to oblige. "Everything is ready for our alfresco luncheon," he informed them, as he helped his guests descend from the carriage. "I hope you don't mind, but I told Jonathan he could join us if he promised to be on his best behavior."

  Felicia turned questioning eyes on Sir Howard. "Who is Jonathan?"

  "My son," he answered proudly.

  "You never told me you had a son." She gurgled with delighted laughter. "Why, I just adore children."

  This was the first Alexandra had heard of Lady Felicia's partiality for children. Her hand itched to slap the beautiful face casting coquettish looks at their host.

  A rapping sound from inside the carriage drew everyone's attention. Miss Haygood sat striking the floor with her cane. "I'm perishing from heat in here, and all you can do is stand about gabbing." She carefully climbed down the steps of the carriage, refusing Carlisle's hand. Fixing her eye on him, she announced, "I've brought a special tea for luncheon. Something to cool our parched throats in the afternoon sun."

  Carlisle bowed graciously. "I'm sure your tea will be a delightful addition to our repast, Miss Haygood." Taking her arm, he led the way to the drawing room. "I thought you ladies might like to refresh yourselves after your ride. Then we shall proceed to the gardens."