"Will you stop repeating everything I say? I tell you, I drank too much brandy at the Duck and Drake. They couldn't wake me, so I spent a hell of a night on a short, hard sofa."
"You slept at the Duck and Drake?" Garrett wanted to know.
"Yes, damn it!"
"The Nugent with you?" he persisted, trying to get his facts straight.
"I left Marcella at Nugent Manor," Damien answered.
Garrett shook his head as he poured himself more port and refilled Damien's glass. "Thought you spent the night with Marcella, old boy. Escorted her home, you know."
"I was furious with Alex. I saw Carlisle making love to her."
Garr examined the tips of his shining boots. "Kissed her cheek. Wasn't making love to her."
"I tell you, I saw him kiss her. Twice!" exclaimed Damien.
"Might've looked like he kissed her to you. I saw the whole thing. Kissed her cheek, that's all."
Garrett watched the color drain from his friend's face.
"Then why didn't she deny it? Why didn't she explain?" Damien jumped up and paced around the room. She had been angry and perhaps hurt by his behavior at the picnic. He hadn't explained his actions, why should he expect more from her?
He tilted his head back and looked toward the ceiling. "Damnation! I've bungled it again."
"Again?" Garrett asked.
"Years ago, I kissed Alexandra," Damien explained. "I was only twenty-five; you know how I was--hot at hand, slept with anything in skirts."
Damien sat back down. "She was barely seventeen, Garr. I was angry at her for growing up and for being so damned beautiful, and angry at myself for desiring my best friend's little sister."
He raked his fingers through his hair. "I was half drunk and in a moment of madness I kissed her. My ardor shocked her. Her response probably horrified her. I had betrayed our special friendship. You know how close we'd been when she was a child. Alex threw my reputation in my face. She said no decent women could ever love me. And she's right." Damien poured himself another drink.
"Alex kiss you back?" Garrett asked, ignoring this last statement.
"Yes." What could it matter now? Damien tossed off the glass of port.
"Simple, then," he said, adjusting the sleeves of his jacket. "Must love you."
"You're wrong," stated Damien.
"I ought to know. Got five sisters. Seen 'em all fall in love. Know the signs," he said wisely.
"If she loves me, why does she keep throwing my past in my face?"
"Scared," replied Garrett.
"Scared of what? Me?"
Garr placed his fingers together, forming a pyramid. "Maybe. Probably scared of your reputation. Did go off with the Nugent, old boy. And she thought you grabbed the upstairs maid--Lucy? That her name?"
"I did not grab the upstairs maid!" Damien slammed the table with his fist. "If Alex married me, I swear I'd never look at another female. She's the only woman I've ever cared for."
Garr studied his friend's troubled countenance. "Did you tell her you love her?"
"No. I didn't get the chance."
"Must tell Alex you love her, old boy. Swear eternal devotion. Girls like that sort of thing. Women, too."
Damien grinned. "I never knew you to be such an expert in the petticoat line."
Garr shook his head. "Can't help it. Five sisters, remember?"
Damien gazed at the fire burning in the grate. "It's over. There's nothing I can do now."
"Yes there is. Sweep her off her feet."
"What?"
Garrett set down his glass. "You must sweep Alex off her feet. Women are romantic. Ought to know that, Demon. All my sisters are romantic."
Damien laughed derisively. "I've never been romantic in my life."
"Never wanted to get married before," Garr retorted. Damien sat up straighter, looking more hopeful. "You're right. I've never wanted to marry anyone. I never thought I would want to. Not after seeing my parents make such a farce of matrimony."
"Not all marriages are like that," Garrett said. "My father and mother have a good marriage. Don't believe m'father's ever strayed."
Damien stared at his glass. "If Alex was my wife, I'd have no desire to stray."
"Beautiful woman," agreed Garrett.
"Yes, she is beautiful. She's also intelligent, spirited, charming, graceful, talented . . ."
"Been bit bad," Garrett said, shaking his head.
"Don't I know it?" Damien grinned. "Quite a turn about, isn't it?" The grin quickly vanished. "But what am I going to do? I know Alex must feel something for me, even though she despises my reputation."
"Must take matters into your own hands," Garrett advised. "Prove you love her, that you've changed, that she can trust you."
"How will I do that?"
Garrett shrugged his exquisitely padded shoulders. "Can't tell you that, old fellow. Wish I could. You'll think of something though. I know you will."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Robert watched his two best friends race down the lane toward Portsmouth. He'd never seen Demon in such a fury before. Determined to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding Alexandra and Damien, he went in search of his sister.
He found her in the library sitting in a chair by the empty fireplace. Dressed in one of her oldest gowns, Alexandra's face was pale and her eyes suspiciously red rimmed.
"Alex, I want to talk to you," he said, his heart going out to her. Damn Demon for making her cry.
Alexandra seemed to hesitate before looking at her brother. She tried to smile. "You don't have to tell me. You've asked Jenny to be your wife. She told me early this morning. Congratulations, Robert. I know you will both be very happy."
"Yes. Well, thank you," he said, momentarily diverted. "Now that all of our guests have left, Jenny and I will be leaving soon to visit her parents and tell them the news."
A flash of pain crossed Alex's face. "Rochdale's gone?" she whispered.
Robert knelt beside her and clasped one icy hand in his. "Tell me what's going on, Alex. Demon came thundering out of the house and left for Portsmouth with Garr. He wasn't planning to leave for another couple of days. I've never seen him in such a rage."
Two large tears cascaded down Alexandra's cheek. She wiped them away with a trembling hand. "He asked me to marry him."
Robert stood abruptly. "What? Demon asked you to marry him? Jenny was right, then. He must love you. Do you love him?"
"Yes, but it doesn't matter," she said with a sniff. "He will never change. He spent the night with Marcella. Just because he thought Carlisle was kissing me."
"Was Carlisle kissing you?" Robert asked, taking a seat beside her.
"I was telling him we wouldn't suit, and he kissed my cheek in farewell."
Robert stared at his sister. "Why were you giving Carlisle his marching orders? I thought you were set on marrying him."
Alexandra took a pillowcase from her mending basket near her chair. "That was before I discovered I loved Damien. I couldn't marry Carlisle, feeling the way I do."
Robert shook his head, trying to unravel the problem. "You love Demon. He loves you. He asked you to marry him. You refused. Am I missing something here, sister dear?"
She set the pillowcase on her lap. "I'm sorry if I offend you, because I know he's your best friend, but Damien's wicked and licentious, he's a libertine, and he hates women. You say he loves me. I don't think he knows the meaning of the word. I wouldn't be surprised if he asked me to marry him, merely to get me into his bed."
Robert tried to defend his friend. "You shouldn't be so cynical, my dear. Demon has many good qualities. Look how he stood by me when I was down. He's loyal, trustworthy, and honorable."
"To men, but not to women," interrupted Alexandra.
"If you knew how his mother was, you would understand him better. She led his father on, playing him false time and time again. And she had absolutely no affection for her brat, as she called Demon."
Alex plucked at a dangling thr
ead on the pillowcase and sighed. "I've tried taking all of that into consideration. But Damien deliberately hurt me yesterday."
Robert nodded. "Love often makes people act strangely. To a man like Demon, love is an undesirable emotion. It can leave a person vulnerable and Demon needs to be in control."
"What about his past?" she asked. "What kind of husband do you think he would make?"
"Once Demon commits himself," Robert said, "you should have nothing to worry about. If he loves you, and you return his love and try to understand him better, Demon will be yours forever. Reformed rakes make excellent husbands, my dear. God help any daughters you may have. Demon will watch them like a hawk."
"But what can I do? I flung his proposal in his face. And now he's gone."
"He'll be back. For years, Demon's mistrusted women. I'm sure he's been fighting a battle with himself since he discovered he loves you. And since he proposed, he must've won that battle. Once Demon makes up his mind, he rarely changes it. If he wants you for his wife, he'll have you." Robert grinned at his sister. "Give him a chance, Alex. Deep down, Damien is a good man."
Alexandra blew her nose on a delicate handkerchief. "I don't know if I can ever forgive him for yesterday's conduct."
"When Demon finally showed up this morning," Robert said, "he was the happiest I've ever seen him. Maybe it took a night with the Nugent to make him realize he really loves you."
"So, I'm supposed to forgive and forget and welcome him with open arms?" she asked. "I don't know if I can do that."
"If you truly love him, you'll find it in your heart to forgive him." Robert walked to the door, then paused and turned back. "By the way, I've dismissed that new maid, Lucy. She made some embarrassing overtures to me this morning when she brought my laundered shirts to my room. I can't have a servant like that working in the house. Jenny wouldn't like it. Matter of fact, I didn't like it either."
****
Alexandra stood with Aunt Haygood at the top of the steps and bid farewell to Jenny and Robert. The happy couple was off to Dorset so Robert could formally ask Mr. Sedgewicke for Jenny's hand.
Alex kissed Robert's cheek, then Jenny's. "Give my love to your parents. Tell them we're looking forward to the wedding."
Jenny threw her arms around her friend. "I still have hopes for you and Rochdale," she whispered.
Biting her lip, Alexandra shook her head. "Not all romances have happy endings. I'm delighted you and Robert are making a match. You're perfect for one another." She squeezed Jenny's small hand. "And we shall truly be sisters at last."
Jenny nodded and turned to say goodbye to Aunt Haygood.
That good lady smothered her in a bear-like hug. "Now, I told cook to include some chamomile in the basket. In case of motion sickness, you know." She handed the large wicker hamper to Jenny's maid. "Careful, girl. Mrs. Abernathy has packed sandwiches and a bottle of wine in there."
"Yes, mum." The maid bobbed a curtsy before climbing into the carriage with the hamper.
"Thank you," Robert said to Aunt Haygood. "Your thoughtfulness will be much appreciated and delicious, I'm sure." He smiled and kissed her and Alex one more time, before helping his intended into the waiting coach. "I'll return within a fortnight, Alex. Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone."
He entered the carriage and settled beside Jenny, who waved from inside, her face radiant with happiness. Alex was glad her friend's secret love for her brother was finally reciprocated. Jenny was walking on air, and Robert was tenderly attentive to all her needs.
The carriage rolled out of sight and Alex and her aunt returned to the back parlor. Alex pored over the accounts while Aunt Haygood occupied herself with her tatting. They worked in companionable silence until Sterling brought in the tea tray.
As Aunt Haygood served, Alex tried to shake off the despondency which had descended upon her. Why couldn't she and Rochdale simply admit their love for each other like Jenny and Robert, and live happily ever after? It seemed unfair that she had fallen in love with a man who held females in contempt--
"Alexandra! I asked you a question and you're ignoring me."
"I'm sorry, Aunt. I was woolgathering. What was it you asked me?"
Aunt Haygood handed her a cup of tea. "Lady Penelope Penderley has invited me to spend a couple of weeks with her, and I was wondering if you minded my going, seeing that Robert will also be gone. I hate leaving you alone for so long."
"I don't mind at all. I'll enjoy the solitude." Alexandra smiled. "Besides, I have a lot of work to do in the observatory. I was thinking I would be poor company for you over the next fortnight or so. Visiting Lady Penderley will be a welcome diversion for you."
"Well, then," Aunt Haygood said, stirring her tea, "I shall send a note round to dear Penelope, accepting her kind invitation. She wants me to bring my special lemon verbena tea. We shall have a wonderful time catching up on old news. We were at school together, you know."
Alex nodded. "I believe you've mentioned her to me. Her husband died last year, did he not?"
"Yes, poor dear. She's been moping about ever since. Lemon verbena will be just the thing to perk her up." Aunt Haygood set down her cup and stood. "If you don't mind, I'll just run upstairs and pen that note to Penelope. And I must see to the packing of my teas. I'll tell Sterling to call for the carriage immediately after breakfast tomorrow morning. I want to get an early start." She bustled out of the room.
Alex finished her tea and went slowly up to her bedchamber. Her head ached, and she felt listless. Maybe she would lie down a while before dinner.
Robert's announcement about Lucy had been a shock. She remembered the hurt in Damien's eyes when she'd accused him of seducing the little maid. Now she understood. He'd been innocent. He'd told the truth.
Alex threw herself across the bed and pounded her fists on the pillows. Damn him! What was she supposed to think? Lucy was young and pretty; Damien's reputation was black and tarnished. Would she ever be able to trust him?
Why had she refused Damien's proposal? Because he'd spent the night in Marcella's arms. But that wasn't the only reason. She was afraid to offer her heart, only to have it coldly rejected--just as he'd rejected their friendship all those years ago. Would she ever know the reason for that rejection?
And how could he spend the night with his mistress, then propose to the woman he supposedly loved the next morning? Had Robert been right? Had that been the turning point for Damien?
It was a baffling puzzle.
Alex rolled over and stared at the lace canopy above. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks. Her mind told her she had done the right thing in refusing Damien's proposal, but her heart cried out for the man she loved.
****
After Aunt Haygood left for Penderley Hall, the days stretched out endlessly. Alexandra tried to keep busy with her nightly perusals of the heavens and making copious notes of the George's erratic orbit in her journals. She searched the observatory high and low for her thesis, but to no avail--it was gone. She would have to start over, but had little hope of successfully reproducing the original.
Sitting at her workbench, Alex sipped her chocolate and read over her calculations from the night before. How she wished Damien were still here to help her. She'd enjoyed the nights they had worked on her paper, the long hours spent side by side. She smiled when she remembered how he'd sat sprawled on the hard backed chair, his long legs extended, his gleaming Hessians crossed at the ankles.
More often than not, Damien would throw off his coat, tossing it carelessly across the sofa. He would sit holding her journal, reading it closely, absent-mindedly untying his cravat with one tanned hand and unbuttoning the top of his shirt, making himself comfortable and settling in for the long haul.
Even now, Alexandra's breath caught when she thought about the exposed sandy-colored hair on his muscular chest. With his shirt sleeves rolled above his elbows and his golden eyes fixed on the page, Damien was attractive beyond her girlish imagination.
On
those nights they'd worked together, Alex had covertly studied the man by her side. She had always thought him handsome, but after being constantly in his company, the viscount had become appealingly familiar again. And yet, he was as dangerous as ever.
She began to feel special and dear to him--the way she used to feel when he was near. Except now, there was an underlying current between them. Many times she caught his golden eyes on her with an intensity that made her stomach tumble. When their eyes met, he would drop his gaze and resume his work.
Her feelings for Damien had changed. She wasn't a little girl anymore. And he wasn't just Robert's best friend. He was a man and seductively attractive.
Damien had proven to be an amusing companion and an assiduous partner in her writing venture. He never said a disparaging word about her work. In fact, he was as enthusiastic about the George as she was. He encouraged her when she faltered, offering helpful advice and reading and rereading the thesis, making sure it was sound.
Alex set her cup of chocolate down and rearranged a tall stack of journals. It was at those times she had felt closest to Damien. She could forget his past, his wickedness. This was the Damien she had been friends with as a child. This was the man she had fallen in love with as a woman.
Alex stared at the telescope and sighed. She missed him. She missed the way his leathered skin crinkled at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. She missed the penetrating looks of passion directed at her. She longed for the comfort of his powerful arms around her, yearned for his fervent kisses.
Alex jumped up. These tortuous thoughts were getting her nowhere. Running downstairs, she grabbed her cloak and headed out the door. Perhaps some fresh air would clear her head and chase away her megrims.
Once outside, she visited all of her old haunts. She spent a considerable amount of time at the waterfall, reliving the kiss she and Damien had shared. She remembered her resolve to overcome his defenses and win his love. How long ago that seemed.
As she made her way back to the house, Alex wondered what would have happened if Damien had not gone off with Marcella. Would she be engaged now, sharing more kisses with him? Planning a wedding and a bright future with the man she loved?
Midnight My Love Page 18
