"Why do you not show the major to his quarters and he can refresh himself." Alex nodded at the children. "We shall put him in the guest bedchamber in the west wing, I think. It has been recently aired and has the nicest view." Abigail and Andrew were at Christopher's side in an instant. "It's much the prettiest room," Abigail volunteered, holding out her hand.
Andrew, not to be outdone, offered to take the other hand.
"Come alone and then we'll show you the stables."
"Just let me inquire as to what the major would like—
coffee, chocolate, or some breakfast—before you lead him off," Alex broke in before they could drag him away.
"Coffee would be most welcome, thank you." Christopher smiled, rose, and taking the hands of each of his guides, allowed himself to be led off.
"I wonder if he is accustomed to children," Ally murmured as the trio exited the room, "or at least children who are as exuberant as Abigail and Andrew."
"Never fear. They are good children and their conversation is often far more interesting than that of many adults one is forced to entertain," her sister reassured her. Christopher was discovering the truth of this as he followed his guides to the west wing. Not only were they genuinely interested in him as a person, they were 253
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ingeniously ready to share with him a great deal about themselves, their family, Halewood, and the surrounding countryside. He had not known that so much information could be retained and articulated by such young minds and, quite to his surprise, he found himself entirely captivated and highly entertained by their startlingly fresh view of the world. Wrotham had come to Halewood because he had unwillingly become utterly fascinated by Alexandra. He wanted to learn more about a woman who acquitted herself better than most men at the gaming table, on the dueling field, in conversation, and at just about anything else he could think of. He wanted to learn more about a woman who could win his friendship and respect—something no woman ever had. To sum it all up, having enjoyed her as much as he had ever enjoyed any one of his male acquaintances, he looked forward with pleasure and anticipation to learning more about Alex as a woman. Now it appeared that he was going to reap unsuspected pleasure from his visit as he became acquainted with the rest of the family. The rest of the family certainly appeared determined to make his acquaintance. Having conducted the major to his chamber, Andrew seemed loath to leave him. "Would you like to see the stables, sir? We don't have many horses, but my brother Alexander keeps some bang-up hunters, and Alexandra's Trajan is a prime bit of blood. Perhaps you would like to see to your horse as well, though Ned is the best when it comes to horses." To Abigail's protestation that they should follow Alex's order explicitly and leave the visitor alone to refresh himself, Andrew scoffingly observed that the major 254
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did not look in the least bit fagged, and to someone who had served in the Peninsula, any journey here must seem the merest jaunt. "Isn't that so, sir?" Andrew looked up earnestly for confirmation from the major.
"Oh, indubitably." The blue eyes twinkled at him. "I shall just leave my kit here, but I would like to have some of that coffee your sister promised me before we inspect the delights of Halewood."
"Andrew," his sister hissed, tugging insistently at her brother's sleeve, "he might want to..."
"I know, I know," her brother whispered back in a lordly manner. Then straightening to his full height and putting on his most adult demeanor, he turned to Christopher. "We shall await you in the morning room. Do please make yourself comfortable."
"Thank you." It was all the major could do not to laugh, and despite his most valiant efforts, he could not keep his lips from twitching. At the moment, the lad was the spitting image of his oldest sister.
Reverting immediately to his former exuberant self, Andrew urged, "But do hurry, won't you?" With a wave they were off, scampering down the long corridor, their golden curls glowing as they raced through each shaft of light thrown by the tall windows that pierced the gloom of the long hall. Smiling to himself, the major strolled to the window and gazed out over the green expanse of lawn. What a marvel this family was—and what a contrast it offered to his own lonely childhood, with no companions except the servants and a mother who would sweep him up in a perfumed embrace 255
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when there were visitors, but who otherwise ignored him until he was old enough to offer escort and admiration. Here at Halewood these children were obviously loved and enjoyed, their needs recognized as equal to those of the other household members, and what charming creatures were the result of such caring and concern.
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The major's initial favorable impressions of the lively household only increased as he became better acquainted with it. Everyone from Althea and the children to Mrs. Throckmorton and Bessie, on down to the grooms treated him with unaffected friendliness and genuine interest. He could see that this open and relaxed atmosphere was owing directly to the mistress of the household, who was looked up to by one and all—and it was obvious to even the most casual observers that the respect so visibly given to her was accorded because of her judgment and knowledge rather than her social position. It was a respect warmed with the utmost affection, as evident from the protective way in which Ned had escorted her home to the solicitous regard so subtly expressed by Mrs. Throckmorton and Bessie. These two dedicated women hovered around Lady Alexandra, each in her own particular way—Mrs. Throckmorton, insisting that everything possible was done to ensure the major's utmost comfort, and Bessie, showing by look and manner that her mistress was someone worthy of the highest admiration. If there was deference in anyone's manner, it was for Alexandra's accomplishments and for the care she took to maintain the well-being of those around her. Watching her with the children as she accompanied them on their tour of the stables, Christopher could well understand why all this was so. She treated them as she treated everyone else, as people whose thoughts, opinions, and 257
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feelings were worthy of her time and consideration. The result was that Abby and Andrew regarded her as a friend—an adult friend, but a friend nevertheless.
As he listened to Abigail's descriptions of the picnics they had held in the meadow, and Andrew's reminiscences of the adventures they had had in the woods or rowing about on the pond, the major could not suppress a pang of envy for the rich and delightful life they enjoyed. Once again, visions of his own desolate childhood arose in his mind's eye and he felt the same old anger at his mother for ignoring him so completely.
"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Andrew asked innocently enough as he tossed a ball for the lively little terrier who had been accompanying them.
"No. Or at least not while I was growing up. I now have a half brother."
"Then who did you play with?" the boy wondered.
"Well, no one precisely," Christopher was forced to admit.
"That's sad." Abigail, her childish features solemn at the thought of such an unhappy circumstance.
Yes, it had been sad, Christopher reflected later that afternoon as he accompanied Alex on a tour of the estate, but fortunately, it was not until now when he saw what childhood and family life could be that he realized what he had missed. Heretofore he would have thought days in the country spent taking care of an estate would have been dull beyond belief, and he had always been delighted that he could leave his own lands in the competent hands of Mr. Beamish while he pursued the more exciting existence of a military life, but now, riding with Alex to survey the fields burgeoning with 258
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fresh young crops, checking fences, talking with tenants, and inspecting livestock, he realized that he had been wrong. There was as much challenge and satisfaction to be gained from such things as from life as a soldier, and none of the painful destruction to which he had forced himself to become accustomed.
Earlier, tossing Alex into her saddle as they had prepared to ride out, he had had a fleeting thought of how very pleasant it would be to do such a thing every day—to trot along together, companionably discussing the merits of one prize bull over another, or planting rye as opposed to wheat, the possible effect of the corn laws, or anything that might come to mind.
She had grimaced as he helped her mount. "I apologize. If I had been in London now you should not be called to do any such thing. In breeches it is the simplest matter to climb on Trajan's back." She sighed regretfully.
"True. But you would not look as lovely as you do now." The major spoke without even thinking, for she did look beautiful. The slate gray riding habit clung to her slender figure, revealing the soft curves, its severe color enhancing the delicacy of her complexion and the glorious red highlights in the curls that peeped out beneath her jaunty hat. It was the merest observation on Christopher's part, but, as he observed the color wash over her face and saw the confusion in her eyes, he realized the full implications of what he had said. Until this moment, with the exception of one or two fleeting reflections on his part, they had just been two friends. Now they were a man and a woman, friends just the 259
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same, but with that difference finally acknowledged between them.
For her part, Alex was much less capable of articulating her own welter of thoughts. Too bemused by the incredible idea that someone, anyone, considered her beautiful, she could only sit silently, transfixed by the warmth of his voice and the admiration in his dark blue eyes. She was overwhelmed by the odd feelings that engulfed her—feelings she had never known before, feelings she could not even begin to identify or explain, feelings that left her breathless and not a little disconcerted.
"I beg your pardon." The major's anxious voice seemed to come from miles away. "I suppose it
was
rather presumptuous of me. I did not mean to insult you in any way."
Alex grinned ruefully. Now he was almost as ill at ease as she was. How perfectly ridiculous. Here they were, two adults who had shared danger and adventure without a by-yourleave, and now they were as awkward as schoolchildren—
more so, because children never fell victim to such silliness.
"No, I am not the least insulted, though I do think you ought to be concerned for yourself. No one has ever thought that of me before." She tilted her head, squinting up at the sky. "I daresay it is the sun—it has coddled your brains." He gave a crack of laughter. "Not likely. Miss Skeptic. I have endured far worse than this on a daily basis in the Peninsula. What, has no one called you beautiful before?" Alex snorted and shook her head.
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"It is not that my wits are addled, it is that you have never dealt with a man of spirit before. We soldiers laugh at death every day; why then should we fear the wrath of a brilliant, independent, adventurous, and self-possessed woman? Don't look so astonished, Alexandra. You know that it takes great courage even to talk to a woman as terrifyingly self-assured as you are, but to admire her to her very face, why I wonder that even I, battle-hardened veteran that I am, dare to do so."
She laughed at his extravagant words, but Christopher could see that they had given her pause. He drew alongside her and added more gently, "It is not owing to any lack of loveliness on your part, you know; it is just that you are so many other things that it almost seems an insult to your character and intelligence to call attention to something that, in comparison, is so superficial. I am sure if I had been thinking about it at all, I should never have dared to say such a thing, but I was not and I just spoke the thought that came into my mind. But come, show me around Halewood and then I can admire something that you truly do set store by—your agricultural knowledge and your skill as a landlord." The awkwardness over between them, they rode along conversing as comfortably as always: noting a fence that needed mending here, a roof to be patched there, pausing to consider the possibility of draining some more land, each enjoying what the other had to offer to the discussion, and each thinking how pleasant and how rare it was to be able to share so many things with another person after so many years of being all on one's own.
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The sun was beginning to sink in the sky when they finally returned to Halewood, invigorated by the sight of the vast expanses of green countryside, the freshness of the air, and the exercise.
The butler, who had been keeping an eye out for his mistress in order to warn her that she had a visitor, thought he had never seen her look so happy as she did now. Grasping her gloves and crop in one hand, her other on the major's arm, she strolled laughing and chatting across the gravel drive and up the front steps. She looked positively radiant and Jamison did not relish dispelling that look with the information that Sir Ralph Cranbourne awaited her in the library.
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Not wanting to spoil his mistress's day, which had begun so propitiously, the butler had done his best to discourage the visitor with a deliberate vagueness as to the expected time of Lady Alexandra's return, but to no avail. "I shall wait for her," was the brusque reply to Jamison's suggestion that his mistress might not return until late afternoon. That had been an hour ago and the caller's natural ill temper had not improved with the wait. The entire staff distrusted Sir Ralph and to a man, they suspected him of sinister motives and were most uneasy when he was present. It was bad enough to have him acquainted with Lord Alexander, Jamison thought as he led the man to the library, but that he should have doings with her ladyship was outside of enough.