How ridiculously glad she had been to see him, after only a few hours out of his presence. What a joy it had been to show him around Halewood, sharing all her hopes and fears, and how terrible and wonderful her experiences had been that afternoon. Here she was, never having been held by a man outside of her family, embraced in the space of a few minutes by both the most loathsome and the most admirable men she had yet encountered. To go from utter disgust and revulsion to such sweetness and delight was truly to run the gamut of emotions and, strangely enough, those emotions that were 272
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actually the most upsetting were the ones she had experienced in the major's arms, for they were the most threatening to everything that she had hitherto taken quite for granted.
Never having come across any men, except the doctor and the vicar, who were more like fathers than anything else, with whom she could converse the least bit intelligently, Alex had taken it as a matter of course that she would never meet anyone who held any attraction for her, and had consequently envisioned for herself a quiet, fulfilling life in the country, managing the estate.
Now she suddenly found herself yearning for something more. Alex was not sure precisely what that was, but ever since she had known the major, the life she had so confidently planned out for herself had increasingly begun to seem rather empty. At first she had attributed this new perception of her future to the expanded vision that her trip to London had given her, but now, happy to be back at Halewood, she knew that it was her friendship with the major, not the many delights of the metropolis, that she would miss so sorely. The most upsetting part of it was that ridding her life of that emptiness required the presence of someone who was going out of her life forever the following morning, someone who was off to another continent and a war and very likely without the least thought for her in his mind. There Alexandra, for all her cleverness and perception, was quite mistaken. Only a few steps behind her in quitting the drawing room, the major also had sought an early repose, but he too was beset by reflections on the events of the day and 273
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thoughts of what the next one would bring. He was even less successful than Alex at sorting out the welter of emotions that was playing such havoc with his mind and heart. Like Alex, he had planned a future uncomplicated by any emotional entanglements. Now, for the first time in his life, he was discovering what it was to care for someone else's happiness and to want to do something to ensure that happiness. The damnable part of it was that he could do nothing, for it was imperative that he leave for Brussels the next morning—not that Alex would have allowed him to help her anyway. Here was the moment he had been longing for, when he could leave his frustrating assignment of wooing the cautious and hidebound members of Parliament and return to a life where there was action, where one felt as though one were accomplishing something. Yet now, a small part of him longed to remain at Halewood with Alex. The thought of not seeing her each day, not knowing how she was doing, was unpleasant in the extreme.
Christopher had grown so accustomed to looking out after her—not that she needed it in the least—that he knew he would miss it. He had grown very fond of the little wrinkle that appeared between her eyebrows when she was puzzling something out, the glint in the green eyes when she took on some new challenge, and the dimple that hovered at the corner of her mouth when she was amused. Now he was going to have to say farewell to all of that, perhaps forever. All of a sudden the major was stirred by the most absurd desire to tell Alex all this, to promise her that he would come back and make sure that Sir Ralph never bothered her again, 274
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that Althea would have a brilliant Season, and that the children would be provided with all the adventures and excitement they could possibly want. Whatever was wrong with him? Not even the most beautiful of the women who had thrown themselves at his head had ever awakened the least desire in him, much less any inclination to take care of them; yet here he was, longing for nothing more than to hold Alex in his arms again and promise her the world. The more he considered it the more the idea appealed to him. Not only did he want to comfort her, he wanted to hold her until she felt desire stir within, to kiss her until her eyes shone with passion instead of tears.
You are a fool, Wrotham, he admonished himself sternly. It is all this anticipation of battle that is making a sentimental idiot out of you. Besides, what makes you think it the least likely that she would wish you to act this way, even if you were to do so? Nothing. Lady Alexandra enjoys taking care of herself, and she won't thank you for meddling in her life any more than you already have. With that bracing thought, Christopher blew out his candle, buried his head in the pillows, and willed himself into a restless slumber. He was up betimes the next day, though there was very little preparation necessary for his journey. He had decided to ride to Harwich and catch a packet from there to Ostend—a simple enough plan in itself, but remarkably difficult to execute, entailing as it did a farewell to Alex. He said his good-byes to Althea and the children, promising them that he would look up Anthony and write them about anything truly interesting that happened. Then he turned to Alex and 275
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discovered that he could not leave her this way, surrounded as she was by family and servants. "Why not ride a little way with me?" he inquired, hoping that he did not sound as desperate as he felt. "Undoubtedly you and Trajan will be needing exercise today; you might as well get it now." A brilliant smile broke through the grave expression on Alex's face. "What a capital idea. I shall just run and change. I won't be a minute."
It was a promise that only Alex, of all the women he had ever known, could make with any degree of truth in it, the major reflected as he strolled to the stables to request the saddling of Trajan.
The day was a glorious one, but this time the flowering hedgerows and freshness of the air went unnoticed by both riders as they steered their horses down the road, their minds wholly occupied with their parting and the major's uncertain future.
After traveling a mile or two in silence, Christopher could stand it no longer. He reined in Brutus, jumped off, and turned to help Alex down. For some time he stood there bemused, his hands on her waist. He had meant only to thank her, to wish her well and then ride off, but something inside of him wanted more than that. "Alex," he began, but looking down into the green depths of her eyes, he could think of nothing more to say. How could he put into words all that her friendship had meant to him, the many things she had made him feel that he had never felt before? Christopher felt inadequate to capture all that in mere words. "Take care of yourself," he whispered huskily as he drew her into his arms. 276
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He kissed her forehead gently, cupping her chin with his hand, and then brought his mouth softly down on hers. It was meant to be an affectionate kiss, nothing more, but her lips quivered under his and he suddenly found himself crushing her to him, moving his lips against hers as though he would devour them. It was as though holding her close, kissing her, tasting her, would resolve all the conflicting emotions that were causing him so much confusion, could satisfy the strange new longings that seemed to have taken him over completely.
Then, just as suddenly, a picture flashed into his mind of Alex, struggling in Cranbourne's grip, Alex with tears of fury and indignation crying "How could he?" Stricken, Wrotham released her. "I am so sorry," he apologized shamefacedly. "I didn't mean ... I..."
"It's all right," Alex whispered tremulously, dashing away a tear.
"I would never for the world upset you, I beg..."
"I know, I know, and you haven't upset me. It's just ... it's just—Oh, do be careful, Christopher," she begged. The major could have laughed with relief. It was just concern for his safety, not dismay at his presumption that was upsetting her. He smiled down at her. "How can you doubt me, you who have fought at my side? It is
I
who should worry about
you.
After all, you are the one who indulges in the truly reckless behavior."
Alex gave him a watery smile.
"Now let me help you up. I know, I know—you wish you were wearing breeches, but it is a cruel and unfair world, my 277
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girl." He flung her on Trajan and mounted his own horse, then turned to smile at her once more. "Now no more adventures for the time being. Neither Tony nor I will be around to help you out of any more of your scrapes."
"Of all the unjust—" she began indignantly, but with a wink of one bright blue eye and a quick dig of his heels, the major was off in a cloud of dust, leaving her to stare furiously after him. "Odious man!" Alex shouted at his retreating figure, and then to her utter shame and dismay, she found herself sobbing helplessly. This will not do, Alex, she scolded herself. It will not do at all. If Wrotham were to have even the slightest suspicion that you were such a weak-willed ninny, such a watering pot, he would be ashamed that he had ever befriended you.
But Christopher, galloping hell for leather down the road, was having his own problems. What with the dust and all, he had the worst lump in his throat that no amount of swallowing seemed to dislodge, and a stinging in his eyes that no amount of blinking could relieve.
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As best she could after Wrotham's departure, Alex stepped back into her old routine. At the outset, preparations for Alexander's funeral had occupied her time and kept her mind from returning too often to thoughts of the major and his welfare. Now that Sir Ralph had been dealt with, she felt at liberty to announce her brother's death, to accept the condolences of the neighborhood, and proceed with the matters at hand. Naturally, someone as rackety as her brother had made no provisions for anything, but her father's will, which had entrusted the estate as well as the care of his brothers and sisters to his firstborn, had also provided instructions in case something untoward should happen to Alexander and thus Alex, if still unmarried, was left a goodly portion of income from the estate and the management of it until such a time as Anthony could take it over. As news trickled over from the Continent, the likelihood of Anthony's fulfillment of his role as master of Halewood became less and less assured. Reports of Napoleon's continued amassing of forces and building of fortification, in addition to the strengthening of the Allied armies in Belgium, left no doubt that an encounter of titanic proportions between the opposing armies was imminent though as yet unpredictable. Filled with concern for both her brother and the major, Alex pored over newspapers as though her life depended on it. In fact, so absorbed did she become in the events unfolding on the Continent that she wore an 279
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unaccustomed air of abstraction that was evident even to the lowliest stable boy.
"The mistress is worritin' herself to a shadow," one of the lads commented to Ned as he rubbed down Trajan one afternoon after Lady Alexandra had returned from one of her long, lonely rides about the countryside.
"It's a right worrying time for all of us, lad," had been the coachman's noncommittal reply, but he, perhaps better than anyone, knew the reasons behind the mistress's pallor and lack of appetite. He had seen the way her eyes lit up whenever they fell on Lord Wrotham, how companionship with the major had brought new radiance to her face and an extra lilt in her voice. It was only natural that the loss of his company and concern for his welfare should rob her of that. The old servant longed to do something to help her, but what, outside of assassinating the Corsican monster, could he do to dispel the strain from her eyes or the anxiety from her face?
To be sure, she also had her brother to consider, but though Anthony was as dear to her as anyone, nothing and no one had made Lady Alexandra bloom as she had when the major had been with her. It is a crying shame, that it is, the devoted retainer often muttered to himself. She finally finds a man who is up to her weight and measure and he has to go off and fight this cursed war.
But old Ned was not the only observant member of the household. Everyone felt the loss of the major's presence, short-lived though it had been. He had brought a vitality and energy that affected more than just the mistress of the house. "Such a kind gentleman," Bessie remarked to Mrs. 280
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Throckmorton over her mending one evening, "spending time with the children and all, and being so interested in everything and everyone."
The housekeeper nodded in agreement, though in her opinion, kindness had nothing to do with it. A shrewd observer herself, she had seen the admiration in the major's eyes as they followed the mistress, and she had been aware of the unspoken communication that seemed to exist between the two of them. Why, it was as though Alex and Lord Wrotham had been friends for years.
Even Althea, though she would never have discussed it with the servants, much less her formidable sister, was aware that the major had been a great more for Alex than a friend of Tony's. The more she considered it, the more Ally realized that she had never seen her sister so gay and full of life as when the major had been at Halewood, nor had she ever known Alex to be prey to such a fit of the dismals as she had been since he had been gone.
Thus it was not a complete surprise to Ally when Alex one day announced her intention to go to Brussels. "Well, so many people who have loved ones in the army are going," Alex said defensively. "Even Lady Meacham and her daughters have gone. Of course, they have given it out that they are concerned for Teddy who, even though he is the heir, joined the Life Guards. Why, you know as well as I that she thinks it her best chance to pop off her daughters all at once when there are so many eligible officers about who will do anything to put off thinking about the battle likely to ensue. Besides, what with the masses of soldiers involved, if 281