“Did you come here to tell me how miserable our lives will be together?” Charley wrapped her arms around her legs and propped her chin on her knees. “I was rather hoping for a happy ending. For us.”
Her husband stilled, his Adam’s apple bobbed, and for a moment he looked as unsettled as she. Their eyes locked and the air grew thick between them. “I’m sorry about last night,” he said suddenly. “And this morning.” He covered his face with his hands and flopped back in the straw. “Hell, I’m sorry for the last three years.”
“Not all of this is your fault, Alex. I’ve done nothing but run or push you away since you’ve come home. Not so very brave of me.”
“True, but,” a self deprecating smirk tugged at his lips, “my behavior has been reprehensible. Leaving you to live alone with my mother should condemn me to at least the fourth circle of hell. A true gentleman would have leased you your own house.”
“Come now.” Charley giggled. “Surely she’s not so horrible as to condemn you to hell.” She flashed an impish smile. “Purgatory perhaps.”
Abruptly, Alex rolled to his knees, catching her face in his hands. Charley’s heart skipped a beat. Smokey blue eyes bore into hers, searching, and filled with such burning passion it robbed her of breath. “There you are,” he murmured, dragging a roughened thumb across her lips. “When you smile that way,” his gaze dropped to her mouth, “as though you have a secret hidden from the world, I see you again. My Charley. I-I feared I’d lost you.”
Her breath caught. “Lost me? Alex, I don’t understand what you mean. I’ve always been here.”
“You have haven’t you?” Gentle fingers traced the curve of her cheek. No expectation lived in his caress, only discovery. There was something just a little bit broken in his eyes, as though his spirit were lagging and in need of rescue… in need of her. “I’d ask your forgiveness, but first I must show you I’ve changed.”
Heart hammering against her ribcage Charley was dangerously close to dissolving in his arms. When Alex looked at her with such vulnerability in his eyes she wanted nothing more than to rescue him. Wash the pain from his soul.
“Give me a chance, Charley. Let me make amends. Maybe we could just start over? Forget everything before this moment.”
Charley nodded. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, Alex, and I do want to give our marriage a real chance. I don’t want to spend our lives miserable and separate.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Where do we go from here?”
“Let’s get to know each other again. Catch up a bit and become friends again.”
“Lady Coverstone, you are wise beyond your years.” He lifted her hand and pressed a soft kiss upon the palm.
“First answer me one question,”
“Anything.” He shifted closer, tiling her chin until the warm gusts of his breath whispered over her lips. Shivers of delight skipped along her spine. His head cocked to the side, gaze roving across her face. Rough hewn hands slid down her cheeks to her throat, teasing the edge of her blouse. He leaned in until naught but a hairs breath separated them.
“Is it true?” she asked quietly. “What Sidney said about your wanting to get me with child so you can return to service? Is that all you want from us?”
Alex drew back and shook his head. “No. Where Sidney came across that notion, and why he chose to share it with you is beyond me. My mother would love nothing more for such to be the case, but truly, the issue has no bearing on my return to London.”
Charley studied his face, digesting the information. “Perhaps your mother gave him the idea.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he agreed.
“Why are you home then?”
Alex drew a deep breath and released it in a whoosh, a haunting shadow drifted elusively across his face, and his hooded gaze drifted from Charley to his hands.
“Will you return to France soon?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “For the moment the decision is out of my hands.”
“Do you want to go back?”
“Yes,” he replied instantly and without wavering. “There is a war on. Men are dying. It is my duty to be there with them.”
Disappointment crashed down around her. Ten years earlier when his commission had been purchased and his departure imminent she’d felt so terribly alone… abandoned. Those old, pent up feelings trembled at the base of her soul, mingling with all the other turmoil existing between them. “Your duty? I’d say you’ve more than done your part, Alex. Perhaps it’s time for you to retire and resume your other responsibilities.” What of your duty to me? She wanted to scream.
“You mean to my title?” He scoffed. “Charley, I have been a soldier since I was seventeen years old. It is all I know. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to consider giving up the career I’ve spent my entire adult life cultivating? I want to be respected for the man I am, not the title I was born to.” He scrubbed both hands through his raven hair. “I wish it were as easy as you make it sound, but I can’t… can’t… change horses at a full gallop, if that makes any sense. The military is a part of who I am.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you, really? I don’t believe anyone truly can.” For a long moment he gazed into her eyes, searching. He reached out to drag a finger along her cheek, moving in once more.
Charley’s lids fluttered downward, lips tingling in silent yearning, impatiently waiting for the moment he would close the distance between them and kiss her.
“I brought you something,” he murmured, slipping a hand into his breast pocket.
“From the village?”
“From the continent actually. I’ve been carrying the damned thing around in my pocket for three months.” He shrugged. “It’s rather fanciful I suppose, but it reminded me of you.”
“Oh?” She wiggled closer, thoroughly intrigued, dying to see the gift.
Alex lifted a simple gold chain, displaying the red gemstone for her inspection.
She clasped her hands in delight. “A ruby?”
“A garnet,” he corrected. “In the crusades, knights wore these stones for protection.” He rose on his knees and moved behind her, draping the necklace across her shoulders. “And Vikings believed garnets lit the way to Valhalla. My hope is that this will keep you safe when I cannot.” His voice dropped, smooth and low as aged brandy. “Perhaps even light your way home.”
A hand flew to her throat and her heart fluttered. “Are you superstitious, Alex?”
“Would you think me foolish if I said yes?”
The deep timbre of his voice boomed, resonating through her body. Charley felt him in every bone and crevice of her soul. She trembled. Ached. Perhaps even desired… Tremulous fingers clasped the gift as she turned back to face him. He was close enough for the heat of his broad chest to warm her blood. She curled her arms around his neck, deeply moved by his gift. “Thank you, Alex, but I don’t understand, why does this remind you of me?”
He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. “Because you’re my light home, Charley. After I was shot last June, I lay bleeding on the battlefield and saw your face. You saved me,” he said humbly. “Without you I would not be here. I—I love you. I have loved you since the very first.”
She tightened the hold around his neck, squeezing her eyes closed to keep the tears at bay. “Why did you never tell me?”
“Because it took quite nearly dying to realize what was important and what I wanted in life.”
“You could have written, Alex. I waited every day for letters, prayed daily for word from you.”
“I know,” he murmured, smoothing a hand over her hair. “I am a fool. After all was said and done I didn’t know how to make it right. Hell, I didn’t even know if you’d want me anymore.”
She searched his eyes for sincerity. “Of course I do. I—” She stopped short. While she was willing to accept his olive branch and breathe fresh air into their relationship, Alex
needed action to corroborate his promises. She must protect her heart else his selfishness threaten to crush her again. She couldn’t allow herself the danger of loving him. Not now. Mayhap never.
Heat flared in his eyes, and his hold on her arms tightened. “Charley,” he murmured, the name on his lips a benediction, a desperate prayer all in itself. “Charley…”
A call went up from outside, piercing the tender moment.
She blinked. “It sounds like someone is coming.”
Reluctantly they broke apart.
“Could it be the magistrate again?” Events of the morning flooded back to her. “Oh! How could I have forgotten, did you receive word of Johnston and Halverson today?”
Alex heaved to his feet. “Yes. In fact I questioned Halverson this morning myself. He is being transported to London for trial as we speak.”
He stepped to the boarded window, running his hands along the bolted shutters securing the windows. She waited for him to elaborate, drumming impatient fingers against her thigh.
Silence.
“And? What more,” she pressed when he remained silent. She followed Alex over the bed of straw to the window. “Who hired them?”
“He swore he didn’t know.” Alex shrugged. “I believed him.”
“That’s it? That’s all you know.”
“Yes, well, those are the important facts.”
Exasperated she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Men,” she uttered the word as an expletive.
“Pardon?” Alex turned from his task of loosening the shutter nails austere brow raised in question.
“Why do men insist upon keeping women in the dark when it comes to all matters of importance? And do not tell me your intention is to protect my delicate sensibilities because I can assure you, sir, that my sensibilities are far sturdier than you give me credit for.”
Amusement tugged playfully at the corners of his mouth and his eyes danced. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who thrives on tales of murder and mayhem.”
Charley laughed, sashaying forward, joining him at the window. “Murder, mayhem, larceny, revenge. I thrive on gruesome details. I tell you, Alex, with all the gossip I hear in London I could write a novel to rival the darkest tales ever published.”
“Is that so?” Alex slipped his hands around a board and yanked it free with sheer brute force. “Why don’t you do it?”
“Perhaps I will.” She smiled. Few men encouraged their wives in endeavors such as writing.
Alex removed another board and pried open the ancient wooden shutters. Together they peered out over the snowy Grayson lawn.
“I say.” Charley shielded her eyes against the intense reflection of the sun on the snow. “Is that a carriage coming up the drive?”
Alex followed her pointed finger. “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered beside her. “It’s my mother.”
Nine
The red and gold seal emblazoned upon the door of the dazzling carriage undoubtedly belonged to the house of Coverstone. Alex’s soaring heart plummeted. He could think of nothing more detrimental to the tenuous ground gained in his marriage than the presence of his mother. Roses withered as she walked past. He’d swear to it. “She must have left Coverstone House the minute the dispatch rider arrived.”
Soft slender fingers twined through his. Alex glanced down at Charley, warmed by her touch. Disconcerting that… the warmth… he wasn’t used to it, and it brought about emotions he’d not dealt with in a very long time.
“I don’t want to see her,” Charley whispered. “Is there somewhere we can go?”
Alex wanted nothing more than time alone with his wife. “I have an idea.” He grasped her hand more tightly and tugged her toward the loft ladder. “Does your father still maintain a hunting cottage at the western edge of the property?”
Charley shrugged, an adorably bewildered expression adoring her face. “As far as I know he does.”
“Good. Let’s go there for a while.” Alex released her, and descended the graying ladder. He waited for Charley to follow suit, threw a harried glance over his shoulder, slipped an arm about her waist and dragged her bodily toward the barn’s back entrance. “We can avoid Mother for a few hours.”
“Won’t everyone worry if we can’t be found? Especially after what happened the other day?”
Alex stopped a few feet from the door and glanced down. Excitement sparkled in her eyes, rekindling a bit of their old friendship. “Groom!” He hailed a passing stable boy.
“Yes, milord?” The young man strode forward, bowing his head respectfully.
“Tell anyone who asks after Lady Coverstone and I that we’ve gone for a ride into town.” He grasped the lad’s hand and pressed a few coins into his hand.
Eyes wide, the groom glanced at the gold pieces in his palm and nodded furtively. “Certainly, milord.”
“Good man. Now let’s get out of here.”
“You need a coat,” Charley protested. She darted into a tack room and emerged with a battered wool coat. “Here. Take this.”
“Charley, I’ll be fine.”
“Precisely.” She flashed a benign smile and held out the coat. “Once you’re wearing this coat.”
“Oh, very well.” He took the shoddy garment and slung it over his shoulders. Half the buttons were missing but the jacket was warm. Alex grasped his wife’s arm and half drug her through the back doors.
Untouched snow crunched beneath their feet, stretching on in a blanket of perfection as far as the eye could see. Sunlight glanced off the smooth surface as though a million sparkling diamonds covered the earth, sparkling with blinding brilliance. Each breath pulled cool, invigorating air into his lungs and for the first time in a long time Alex felt glad. Glad to have found a moment’s peace. Glad to be sharing this beautiful moment with Charley, his wife…his friend.
Beside him Charley giggled. He glanced down, noting the pink brilliance of her wind kissed cheeks. “Why couldn’t I have thought of this earlier,” she murmured, with a soft sigh.
“Pardon?”
“Oh, nothing.” She fluttered her hand dismissively, a tiny, secret smile touching her lips. “It’s just that I thought of the perfect thing to say back to you.”
Back to me? Confused, Alex shook his head. “Oh? Then do, pray tell, enlighten me.”
“Earlier when you told me I’m a terrible Marchioness—”
“I don’t think that is quite what I said.”
“Yes, I know, I’m paraphrasing, but at the time I could not think of a single witty thing to say in return, and just now I thought of the perfect retort.” She released a beleaguered sigh.
Alex couldn’t help but smile. He’d found himself in the same predicament a time or two himself—especially in the army—caught off guard another man hands down a scathing insult, usually to the amusement of a slew of other soldiers, and the perfect comeback comes to mind hours later. “And?” he prodded.
Charley fixed her gaze straight ahead, the crinkles around her mouth and eyes betraying obvious amusement. “I should have replied that if stuffiness is the measure of a peer’s capability you will make an apt marquis.”
Alex snorted. “I say, my dear… Are you calling me stuffy?”
She grinned, that delectable lone dimple winking from the corner of her equally appealing mouth. Her eyes rolled to the sky, a playful finger tapping her jaw. “Perhaps not so much stuffy as brooding.”
“Stuffy and brooding?” Alex shook his head, bemused. “I’ll show you stuffy.” He turned suddenly, catching her off guard, and scooped her up in his arms, tossing her over a broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Charley’s musical laugh pierced the crisp air. “Stop! Alex, what are you doing?”
“Would a stuffy old lord do this?” he teased, marching into the field toward a deep snow drift. Funny, but for the first time in years he felt… young.
“Alex, no,” she exclaimed. “Put me down!”
“Not to worry, love, I’ll put you down.�
�
“Don’t you dare throw me into that snow bank. I forbid it.”
The high mound of powder loomed. With relish Alex pulled her back over his shoulder, prepared to dump her into the fluffy cloud.
“No!” Slender arms wound around his neck, holding on for dear life. Loops of strawberry curls, fallen loose from her upsweep, floated around her head, tickling his face.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said determinedly. “You’re not getting out of your snow bath that easily.” He slid both hands around her waist, attempting to disentangle her from around his torso. In response Charley wrapped her legs around his waist. Dear God, but she fit. Caught off guard by the sudden provocative position, Alex stumbled and they tumbled in a flurry of limbs, laughing, into the fluffy blanket of snow.
“Ah! The snow is so cold.” Charley squirmed beneath him and Alex’s entire body tightened.
Every curve and swell of her vivacious body molded perfectly to his like missing pieces of a puzzle. He knew the strangest sense of having found the very thing he’d been looking for.
“I think a pound of snow is running down my back,” Charley giggled, oblivious to his distress.
“Then I’ll have to warm you up later.” Alex lifted his face from the sweet curve of her neck and stilled, taking in the bewitching glow of her lovely face. Wind kissed cheeks glowed a healthy pink while, vibrant and full of life, her eyes sparkled in the bright afternoon sun. His gaze dropped to her lips. Ever so slightly oversized and heart shaped, her lips were actually pink. Not pale peach or only slightly darker than the flesh of her face… Charley’s lips could tempt the gods, and yet those plump petals were his and his alone. Should Zeus descend from the heavens and demand a sample, Alex would be within his husbandly rights to wish him to hell—or more appropriately, Hades. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured.
Her eyes widened impossibly, those tantalizing lips parting just enough for Alex to glimpse white teeth. He leaned in, brushing her lips, prepared to deepen the exchange, but unwilling to frighten her as he had last night—
Light to Valhalla Page 14
