Julia London (90 page)

It was his handing the rapier to Leonard that shook her back to the present. It was Leonard’s wild swing toward Horace that made her take several quick, uneasy steps forward. But Alex turned toward her and smiled reassuringly, as if he understood her misgivings.
All
of them. The small but extraordinary unspoken communication startled her. He understood.

“Very good, lad,” Alex said as Leonard thrust forward.

“I will try!” Rupert demanded. And so it went; Rupert, then Horace, and then the others. Lauren watched in fascination as each of them turned eagerly to Alex to see if they held the sword just right, if their form was to his satisfaction. They adored him, too, she realized, and a smile slowly curved her lips. As she stood leaning against the house watching the boys thrust their sword into thin air, she realized that the ache was beginning to thaw from her heart. But that, in and of itself, was quite frightening. What was she thinking? In the middle of Theodore’s turn, she turned on her heel and walked away, afraid to look at him a moment longer.

Every day thereafter, Alex appeared at Rosewood, usually in the company of one of the children. He explained to a wary Mrs. Peterman that he was overseeing some repairs to
Dunwoody. Lauren did not believe that for a minute, but she kept silent. She did not encourage him in any way, but neither did she ask him to leave as she had at Blessing Park. She knew she should, but the words would not come.

He appeared every day, filling her with his mere presence, assuring her without words. He charmed them all. Even Mrs. Peterman began to soften toward him, even though she still held him fully responsible for Lauren’s refusal of Mr. Goldthwaite. On the front lawn, he taught Lydia the latest dance from London, accompanied by his rich baritone hum. The poor girl was so admiring of him that she almost swooned, and did not once mention Mr. Ramsey Baines, the young lad she was determined to marry one day. He brought Theodore two books of fiction, one a pirate story, the other an adventure. He helped Rupert shore up a fence the cattle had crumbled. He took Leonard riding on Jupiter. At the supper table, the children could speak of little else than Mr. Christian and the many adventures he had experienced. Climbing mountains, exploring jungles, and meeting strange people who wore grass for skirts.

She could not help but be drawn to wherever he was, but she kept a respectable distance. At first, she was reluctant to even speak with him for fear of betraying herself and ultimately, Magnus. But it was impossible to resist him. After a few days, she began to respond timidly to his chatter. He asked about her plans for Rosewood. She cautiously explained her idea, rejected by Magnus, of establishing a dairy and trading its products for food and sundry dry goods. She fully expected him to tell her it would not work. He surprised her by proclaiming it a marvelous idea, agreeing that Rosewood could not rely on the land to produce enough grain to sustain them. He offered to help, said he knew a dairyman who could help her get started if she should have the opportunity. Lauren realized she was smiling as he spoke, eagerly discussing her dreams with him, encouraged and enthused by his tacit approval.

She even garnered enough courage to ask him about Sutherland Hall. He grew animated as he spoke of his home, regaling her with tales of three brothers who were constantly into mischief. Every once in a while, if she had allowed herself to be near him, he would reach up and casually smooth a curl from her temple, or let his knuckles graze her cheek. His touch always startled her—she was so sure she would succumb to her desire that she made certain she was never alone with him.

It was very obvious he did not care for her reticence. He tried any number of ways to be alone with her. Part of her desperately wanted to walk with him when he asked, or to ride Jupiter with him, or to accompany him to Pemberheath. But it was too dangerous, too tempting. She forced herself to think of Magnus. She reminded herself that Alex should be in London at the close of the parliamentary session, not Dunwoody,
not
whiling away the time at Rosewood. There was too much at stake—she told herself that so often, that she was beginning to chant it like a mantra.

Though it hardly seemed possible, she grew to love him more each day, and therefore became more confused. She tried to make herself think of Bavaria, of when Magnus would return, of who she was, but she still refused to face her future. She still allowed herself the remnant of a dream. But then a letter from Paul arrived.

He had written to confirm that he and Ethan would arrive at the end of the week. In the course of his note, he wrote that the latest speculation as to the true cause of the sudden breakup between Lady Marlaine and Sutherland was the duke’s obsession with a titled woman, unknown to the
ton
before this Season. In so many words, he told her that the gossip about her was malicious.

That might have been enough to confirm her determination to marry Magnus, but Paul had gone on to report that the
ton
was on edge over the potential fate of the reform bill now that it had passed the Commons. Unfortunately, he
wrote, most pundits gave it little chance of passing the Lords without the Reese-Christian support, which was now, of course, highly doubtful. Paul’s opinion was that for all intents and purposes, the reform bill was dead. From there, he had launched into a discussion about his plans to pick up the mantle of reform, perhaps starting in their home parish. Just as soon as he set Rosewood to rights, he would seek a seat in the Commons, he boasted.

Lauren had burned Paul’s letter. The sight of it reminded her of the reality of her situation beyond the bounds of Rosewood. Instead of being in London where he was sorely needed, Alex was here. Instead of swaying the Lords to enact the reforms and change the destiny of the country, he was teaching Lydia to dance. Dear God, even if she
could
end her betrothal to Magnus and follow Alex—which she could not—there was no hope. She was ruined, just as Paul and Magnus had predicted. She would be a source of constant embarrassment to him, a thorn in the side of the Earl of Whitcomb and his family. No one would take him seriously, not after the scandal that was apparently brewing in London. All because of one night.

One extraordinarily beautiful night.

   Alex galloped into Pemberheath, reining Jupiter to an abrupt halt at the village stable. He quickly dismounted and irritably tossed the reins to a stable boy along with a few coins. He was at his wit’s end, having tried everything he could think of to lure Lauren to him, resenting the hell out of the fact that he could not get close to her, no matter what he did. If there was not a child hanging from her leg, Mrs. Peterman was standing guard. The woman hardly needed to bother; Lauren made quite sure she was never alone with him. He could not even take comfort in the fact that she seemed to be softening a little. Yesterday, she had actually laughed, a rich, full laugh, when Leonard had pelted him with a rubber ball. He became distracted from their game of
toss when Lauren had appeared on the lawn in that simple pale blue gown. As a result, he had a nasty little bump on the side of his head.

She had laughed, but she had refused to walk with him. He had almost begged her yesterday, weary of being the gentleman.
Come with me, Lauren. Just a walk about, nothing more
, he had said. Her expression had paled, and she had looked nervously at her feet, telling him she could not. When he demanded to know
why
not, she had scuffed the edge of her old boot into the earth and had murmured,
Magnus would not approve.
That damned German was not even
here
, but his hold on her spanned the bloody little continent!

He had to face the possibility he had lost. Hell, he had hardly
slept
from facing it. What in God’s name was he supposed to do? He could not live at Dunwoody indefinitely. There was a dearth of simple human companionship, except the groundskeeper and his wife, whom he rarely saw. With little to keep his mind occupied—save her—he restlessly rambled from room to empty room, absolutely
obsessed
with her.

He hated to admit it, but he supposed it was possible she actually felt some affection for Madgoose. Did that mean she had lost the love for him she had so blissfully proclaimed the night of the opera? He did not know for certain, and it was driving him mad. He would try one last time, he had decided. If she did not come to him now, if she did not give him
some
sign there was hope, he would leave. First to London to wrap up some business, and then, by God, he would leave England, perhaps indulge in an adventure or two. Anything that might cleanse his soul of her.

He stalked toward the end of the main thoroughfare, wondering just where in the hell a person might find a bunch of gardenias in such a godforsaken little village.

“Sutherland!”

Alex pivoted sharply. Scanning the crowded street, he
saw Paul Hill limping toward him, using his cane to force the carriages and horses to veer around him. “I had thought I would receive word that the wedding had been postponed,” he said breathlessly as he reached Alex.

Alex flicked his eyes to the people around them, then to Paul. “I did not know you were at Rosewood,” he muttered, and motioned toward a covered breezeway between two buildings.

“We only just arrived. Ethan has gone to find Rupert. Damn fool was to have met us … never mind that. What about Lauren?” Paul asked, trying to catch his breath as they moved into the breezeway.

Alex scowled. “Your sister, sir, is the most intractable woman I have ever known,” he responded irritably, and leaned over the railing to peer into a babbling stream below them.

“Well then, what have you done?” Paul demanded.

“Other than be my usual charming self?” he answered acerbically. “I have done nothing. I cannot get close enough to her to so much as offer a handkerchief.”

“Oh, God,” Paul snorted “That’s it? I expected more from you, Sutherland!”

Alex angrily jerked around to face Paul. “What in God’s name would you have me do?
Abduct
her, for Chrissakes?” he fairly shouted. “She is, apparently, content to marry that heathen Bavarian!”

“You are wrong,” Paul said evenly. “She has loved you since the day you stumbled onto Rosewood. She practically deified you, Mr. Christian. She has wanted no other, not since the day you almost killed her.”

“I did
not
—” With a great sigh of exasperation, Alex angrily shook his head. “That was before London, before Madgoose arrived to claim her. She has obviously changed her mind.”

“If you think Bergen stands in your way, you
are
a fool. Can you not see that Bavaria is a convenient solution for
her?” Paul blustered angrily. When Alex did not immediately respond, he sighed, glancing impatiently at the stream. “Look here, she thinks Bavaria is the only place she can go now. And the circumstances being what they are, I have to agree with her. London has branded her—there is no hope for her in England, not the way things are.”

Alex remained silent, his doubts overpowering him.

Paul groaned with exasperation. “I
know
my sister. I know when she loves, it is completely, without artifice. Would that I had understood that sooner,” he muttered, more to himself than to Alex. “She cannot bear to love you without hope—she would prefer Bavaria to that. But you can change that.”

Alex looked again at the stream, slowly shaking his head. “I have tried—”

Paul gripped the railing. “What you said in London … If you truly love her, if you truly
want
her, you will find a way. But you had best be quick about it. They wed Friday and set sail the following morning.” He did not wait for a response, but shoved away from the railing. Alex clenched his teeth as he listened to the clip of Paul’s cane.

He had four days.

   Theodore announced excitedly that Count Bergen was coming down the drive. Lauren’s heart sagged with disappointment—she had been waiting for Alex to come. When he had not come around yesterday, she had tried to convince herself that it meant nothing. But as today had passed with excruciating tedium, she had begun to wonder if she had succeeded in chasing him away. If she had been as successful as all that, she was prepared to march right down to the river and throw herself in. Could she do
nothing
right? Without looking at Paul, she slowly put away the socks she was darning and stood, smoothing the lap of her gown.

“Well,” said Paul cheerfully, “Bergen’s return means you will be leaving soon.” He smiled and picked up his
cane. “You must be very excited. The nuptials, a wedding trip aboard a fancy ship, married bliss in Bavaria.”

In her current state, it was beyond her ability to fathom why Paul might try to provoke her, but he was doing a fine job of it. God, she wanted to slap him—this was hard enough without his needling. “Should you not welcome your beloved home?” he grinned, confirming her suspicions. With an icy glower, she walked out of the drawing room.

Magnus was climbing down from his horse when she stepped outside. He smiled at her as he lifted his saddlebags. “You are a welcome sight,
liebchen.
”

“Welcome back,” she said, trying to smile. Magnus hoisted the bags onto his shoulder and crossed the drive to her. He slipped a free arm around her waist and kissed her on the lips. “You will be pleased with the ship,” he said in German. “I spared no expense to have my cabin made suitable for a bride.”

A bridal suite—Lauren felt herself color. She thought of Alex immediately and tried to stuff her traitorous thoughts into some remote corner.

Magnus chuckled. “Come now,
liebchen
, you are not as innocent as all that,” he grinned, and winked subtly. Feeling suddenly nauseated, Lauren swallowed a lump in her throat. Magnus frowned. “What is this? Ah, my dove, I will be as gentle as a lamb. You have nothing to fear,” he said, and affectionately kissed her temple.

“My
Deutsche
is not terribly good. What were you confessing, Bergen?” Paul asked. Magnus slid his gaze to Paul. His hand slipped from her waist, and he moved away, muttering something that caused Paul to chuckle. She stood, unmoving, staring into a bleak space that resembled her future. She heard Ethan’s booming voice, and still she did not move. She might have stood there all day had her eye not caught a movement up the lane.