by Joan Wolf
Colin looked into Sally’s clear blue eyes. The suspicion faded from his face and he nodded. “All right, miss. If you say so.”
Colin went to unhitch his horse and Sally went to its head, to rub its face and talk to it. More traffic went by on Oxford Street. When the horse was free, the duke led it around to the back of his curricle and tied it up. Then he said to Colin, “Stay here with your wagon. I will hire you a pair of horses from the nearest livery stable. Deliver your bricks and keep the horses over night. You can bring them with you when you come to see me tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, m’ lord,” Colin replied.
The duke lifted Sally back into the curricle, climbed into the driver’s seat himself, and set off in the direction of Grosvenor Square.
“I’ll leave you at home and then I’ll see about getting a pair of horses sent over to Blake,” he said to Sally as he drove down the street, the pitiful nag trailing behind them.
“He was right, you know,” she said. “He was as starved-looking as the horse.”
“Mmm,” he said.
“I wonder if Alex could find a job for Mr. Blake at Standish Court,” Sally mused.
“Your poor brother,” Sinclair said. “Do you saddle him with every stray you pick up?”
Her spine got straighter. “We have so much. God would say that it is our responsibility to help those who are less fortunate than we.”
Silence reigned as he continued to drive down the street. At last Sally said, “You don’t have to keep the horse, you can leave it off at my house. My cousin Diana will take care of it. She is better than a horse doctor.”
“The horse will do very well in my stable,” he said. “My head groom will take as good care of it as Miss Sherwood would.”
By now they were entering Grosvenor Square. The duke pulled his curricle up in front of Standish House and Sally turned to him, putting a hand on his arm to keep him from getting down.
“What are you going to do with that poor man tomorrow morning? You can’t just send him away with that starved horse! I’ll talk to Alex…”
“Have no fear, Lady Sarah,” he replied calmly. “You won’t have to foist Colin Blake and his nag upon your brother, you have already foisted them upon me. I’m quite sure that a comfortable place can be found on one of my many estates for Colin Blake, his horse and his wife and children should he have any. You need not fear that you will run into them in London again.”
Sally’s face lit to radiance. “You will do that? Thank you, Your Grace! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your goodness.”
“Goodness is not something I am usually known for,” he said. “It makes for a nice change.”
He jumped down from the curricle and came around to her side and lifted her down. She was so slim that his hands nearly encircled her waist. He looked down at her, his face sober. There was a moment’s silence. “Why are you bothering with me?” he asked slowly.
At first she looked surprised, then her blue eyes grew luminous. “You rescued Jem,” she said. “And now you are rescuing Colin Blake and his horse. I haven’t met any other men in London who would do that.”
“You are the one responsible for those rescues,” he said.
She smiled. “We did it together,” she said, turned, and went into the house.
Nineteen
It didn’t take long for word to reach the Standish household that Sally had been seen on Oxford Street with the Duke of Sinclair and a ragamuffin man with a broken-down horse. Lady Standish heard about it from Sally Jersey, who sent her a note detailing the information she had received from Lady Westover, who had driven past the trio earlier in the afternoon. Alex learned about it at Brooks, from Lord Morple, of all people, the man whom Sally had been with when she first saw Jem.
The subject came up as soon as the family met in the drawing room before dinner.
“What were you doing in company with Sinclair?” Alex demanded. “First you asked him to accompany you to Richmond, and now this. He’s not a proper escort for you, Sally. I’ve told you before—he’s a notorious rake.”
“He came with me to the Committee on Saving Climbing Boys,” Sally said. “He was interested in helping. He’s interested in reform. We need reform in this country. I don’t care about his reputation. I like him.”
“Good heavens,” Lady Standish said. “You like him for political reasons?”
“He helped me save Jem, and this afternoon he saved a horse from being beaten to death. And he is going to find a place on his estate for both the horse and the poor starved man who was beating him. I think he’s a good man and I don’t care about his reputation.”
“Sinclair is a member of the reform faction of the Whig party, that’s true,” Alex said. “I can’t quarrel with his politics. But he’s not a white knight, Sal. He’s not the sort of man an innocent girl should be seeing.”
“Your brother is right,” Lady Standish said. Diana looked at her friend’s flushed face. “What else do you see in him, Sally?” she asked quietly.
“Oh…” Sally gestured with her hands. “I just feel…I don’t think he’s had an easy life, somehow. He strikes me as someone who’s been…hurt.”
“Wonderful,” Alex said sarcastically. “The most notorious rake in London and my sister thinks he’s been hurt.”
Lady Standish frowned and looked worried.
Diana said, “Sally has wonderful instincts about people, Alex.”
“She’s eighteen years old! What can she know about a man like Sinclair?”
“I just know,” Sally said. “I can feel it in him, Alex. He’s not a hard-hearted rake. He’s not.”
At this moment, Henrys came to the door and announced that dinner was ready. With the servants present, the topic of conversation necessarily changed to something less personal.
When dinner was finished, the women retired into the drawing room and Alex left to meet an old army friend. Diana and Sally sat together and looked over a book of horse prints that Sally had bought for Diana earlier that morning. Lady Standish turned to her cousin and dear friend.
“Do you think it may be possible?” she asked. “Sally and the Duke of Sinclair?”
“Sally is a special child,” Mrs. Sherwood said. “Her illness—almost dying, then having to spend six months in bed—it gave her a dimension that most young girls don’t have. If she sees something in the duke, then perhaps there is something there to see.”
“My God,” Lady Standish said. “Imagine—my daughter a duchess!”
Mrs. Sherwood smiled.
“And your daughter may be a countess! Who would have ever believed that this Season could turn out so brilliantly!”
“They aren’t married yet,” Mrs. Sherwood said.
“We leave tomorrow to visit the Moultons. I will lay a wager with you that Diana will be engaged by the time that we return to London.”
“Perhaps,” Mrs. Sherwood said softly. “Perhaps.”
The Standish ladies had stayed home for the night for a change, and everyone went to bed early to catch up on lost sleep. Diana could not sleep, however. Her mind was filled with the coming visit to the Moultons, and what might happen between her and Lord Rumford.
Lady Standish was certain that he was going to make her an offer.
Diana was fond of Lord Rumford. She admired him for being a faithful and devoted husband to a sickly wife. He had not turned his back upon his responsibilities and run away. He had been there for the woman he loved.
He would always be a bulwark she could count upon. She had not had that kind of presence in her life when she was growing up. It would be good to have it now. And he was a nice-looking man, too. Marriage to him would be the answer to everything she wanted.
So why did she feel so uneasy, so…restless?
After two and a half hours of tossing and turning, she decided to give up on sleep and go downstairs to the library to get a book. She put on her velvet robe and slippers and went out into the hallway, which was dimly
illuminated by a few sconces.
She was surprised to find a light on in the library, and even more surprised to find Alex there, sprawled on the leather sofa in front of the flickering fire. She remembered finding him in similar circumstances on their brief visit to Standish Court.
Wasn’t he sleeping at all?
“Why are you still up?” she asked from the doorway.
His dark head swiveled around. “Dee! I might ask you the same question.”
“I couldn’t sleep and came down to get a book.”
“I only got home a short time ago,” he said. “I was having a glass of wine before going upstairs.”
His hair was rumpled, his cravat was loosened and his jacket was off. There was just the beginning of a dark stubble under his skin. She felt her stomach tighten.
“You’re drinking too much,” she said. “Is that a habit you picked up in the army?”
“No,” he said.
The house was perfectly quiet. The only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire. She slowly walked across the room and sat down on the sofa beside him. The tie from her velvet robe just brushed his leg. “What’s wrong, Alex?” she asked softly.
He took a sip of his wine. “Nothing that time can’t fix,” he said. “It’s a bit of an adjustment, coming home. That’s all.”
His eyes were shadowed and the curve of his mouth looked bitter.
“Do you wish you were back in the army?” she asked.
“No!” He frowned and shook his head. “No,” he repeated more quietly. “I’m finished with the army, Dee. This business I’m doing for the Horse Guards is just political. The army is behind me now.” He ran his fingers through his hair, disordering it further. “I want it to be behind me.”
She was so close to him she could see the shadow his eyelashes cast on his cheeks. He had always had absurdly long eyelashes. He looked as if he were stretched as tautly as a drawn bow. She knew him so well. Something was wrong with him—something serious. Something had happened to him in the Peninsula that he couldn’t throw off.
He had been in battle. He had been wounded, had seen his friends killed.
“It must be hard to forget,” she said softly. “The war, I mean.”
His head jerked around and he looked her fully in the face for the first time. “God,” he said. “Dee.” And then he was reaching for her.
Their lips met and she slid her arms around his neck. They kissed passionately, and she ran her fingers through his tousled black hair, cupping the back of his head with her palm. His hand came up to slide under her robe and cover her breast. Her nipple stood up hard. Her senses were filled with him; all thinking had stopped. All she knew was the feel of him, the smell of him, the sensations his mouth and hands were creating in her body.
Then, suddenly, there came a single sharp bark, and a small, furry body was trying to insinuate itself between them.
Alex swore.
Diana struggled to regain her composure. She pulled away from him and Freddie reached up to lick her face.
“Where did that damn dog come from?” Alex said. His voice sounded hoarse.
“My room,” she said breathlessly. “I left the door open. He must have followed me.”
She clutched Freddie to her, using his warm furry body as a shield between her and Alex, between her and what had almost just happened. She moved farther away on the sofa.
Alex didn’t try to stop her, he just stared at her out of shadowed eyes. They looked at each other for what seemed a long time. “I love you, Dee, and I think you still love me.”
Her insides were in complete turmoil. She had been telling herself for so long that she no longer loved him. But she couldn’t deny what she felt at this moment. She couldn’t deny that every inch of her body was longing to go back into his arms.
She panicked. She had to protect herself. She couldn’t let him see the devastating effect he had on her. She had to make him understand how impossible it was for them ever to have a future together. Desperately she sought for a weapon, and after a brief, frantic moment, she found it.
She said in a low, trembling voice, “I was never going to tell you this, but now I think I will. Six weeks after you left, I found out that I was pregnant.” She held Freddie close, seeking comfort from his warmth. “I didn’t know what to do, Alex. You were gone and I was so afraid and alone…At first I was even afraid to tell my mother.”
His face was stark with shock. “You told me you were all right! I never would have left if I’d suspected you were with child!”
She buried her lips in Freddie’s fur. It was so hard to think about this, to talk about it. “I didn’t want you to stay for a baby,” she said, her low voice muffled by the dog. “I wanted you to stay for me.”
He shut his eyes. Even in the dimness of the room, she could see how white he was. “Oh, Dee. I am so sorry. I am so very, very sorry.”
Her chest tightened with pain as the memory of that time washed over her. She rested her cheek against Freddie and stared into the fireplace; she couldn’t bear to look at him. “No one ever knew but my mother,” she said. “I had a miscarriage. My mother said it was a blessing and I suppose in a way it was.” Her eyes turned back to him. “But my baby died, Alex. Our baby died. And you weren’t there.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her with that pale face and those shadowed eyes.
Tears began to pour down her cheeks. “You shouldn’t have left me,” she said, her voice breaking. “After what had been between us, you shouldn’t have left me.”
“I know,” he said. His voice ached with pain. “I knew it then, and I did it anyway. I don’t blame you for hating me, Dee. I hate myself for what I did to you. I convinced myself that nothing would be lost by us waiting a few years. I thought it would be like me being away at school. All I could think of was what I wanted. I didn’t think of you at all.” He reached out and took her hand into the two of his. “I’m sorry.”
She let her hand remain within his for a moment, then slowly she withdrew it. Her heart was filled with a tumult of emotions, but primary among them was sadness, sadness for the girl and boy they had been, sadness for the lost little life that would always stand between them. In her rational mind she knew that the baby could well have died even if Alex had stayed home. But deep in her heart and soul, she blamed him. If she hadn’t been so frightened, if she hadn’t been so distraught…then, perhaps, the baby would have lived.
She smoothed her hand over Freddie’s silky head. “I know that there will always be something between you and me. I can’t completely erase those years of loving you. But I can’t marry you, Alex.” Her voice shook. “I just…can’t.”
There was a long silence. Freddie closed his eyes, reveling in the bliss of her caresses. Finally Alex said, “I failed you. I understand that.” He rubbed his eyes as if they were burning. “I want you to be happy, Dee. I want that more than anything else in the world. And if Rumford is the man to do it, then I wish you both well.”
He looked so tired, so unhappy. Part of her wanted to comfort him. Part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss away that strained, sad look. Part of her wanted to comfort herself by bringing back the old Alex and Dee that for so long had been the touchstone of her life.
But she couldn’t do that. Too much had happened. Too much blame and sorrow lay between them.
Slowly she got up from the sofa, dislodging Freddie from her lap as she did so.
Alex looked up at her, his eyes dark with pain. “I would give everything I have if I could turn back time.”
Her heart cried out in response, Oh Alex, so would I! But her brain spoke when she returned, “No one can do that.”
He looked at her with those shadowed eyes and said desolately, “I know.”
She looked at the bottle and the empty glass that reposed on the table next to the sofa. “Don’t drink too much, Alex. It’s not the answer to your problems.”
He smiled crookedly. “It hel
ps.”
“No, it doesn’t. Not really.” She bent down and picked up Freddie, who was sniffing at her robe. “Don’t sit here by yourself any longer. Go to bed.”
“I will.”
“Good night, Alex.”
“Good night, Dee.”
As soon as she had left the room, he buried his face in his hands and didn’t move for a long, long time. Finally he turned to look at the bottle of wine next to him on the table. The minutes ticked by as the fire died lower in the chimney. At last he got to his feet and walked out of the room, leaving behind the half-full bottle on the table.
Twenty
Lady Moulton’s home in Kent was only a few hours drive from London. Chisworth Hall was not nearly as impressive a residence as Standish Court, but it was a pretty brick house with a lovely view of meadows and a rushing river. Lady Moulton and Lord Rumford greeted the guests—Lord Moulton was a member of the government and was in Paris at the moment, so Lord Rumford was acting as host.
When the Standish party arrived they found that Lady Caroline Wrentham and her parents, the Earl and Countess of Stowe, were there before them. Alex had not expected them and didn’t know how to react. He seemed to have been thrown into company with Lady Caroline more and more often lately and, while he enjoyed her company, he did not want to find his name coupled with hers.
He was in no shape to get involved with any woman right now, he thought. He had to get his life in some kind of order first. He couldn’t let Dee see him falling apart. She would worry about him and that would impinge on her happiness. And after all she had been through, she deserved to be happy.
Sally was not pleased to see that Lord Dorset was also a guest. He was a perfectly pleasant young man, and she had no objections to spending some time in his company, but she had no intention of marrying him and she was afraid that that was the way he was tending.
It would have been so nice to be able to spend some uninterrupted time with the Duke of Sinclair.
Alex and Sally solved their problems by sticking together and managing never to be alone with either Lady Caroline or Lord Dorset. They never actually voiced this intention to each other, but whenever either of them was invited to take a turn in the garden, or a walk along the river, they made sure to include the other couple in the outing. Both of them were perfectly aware of what they were doing, and both managed to ignore with aplomb the growing frustration of Lady Caroline and Lord Dorset with the constant foursome.
