Read The Rocky Mountain Heiress Collection Online
Authors: Kathleen Y' Barbo
“Is that so?” Alex’s temper flashed. “Tell
Grandfather
that Alex Hambly refuses him.”
A single brow lifted above her green eyes. “And what assurance do I have that you are Alex and not Martin once again playing at switching roles?”
“Simple. I’ve a birthmark in a rather delicate place.” He did not, but watching the momentary surprise on Miss Beck’s face was worth the jest. “Do you wish me to show it to you?”
“Delicate?” Again the perfectly arched brow rose. “Could you be more specific?”
“For goodness’ sakes, woman. Do you not see the black eye your uncle gave me?”
Her lips turned up in a smile. “Of course I see it, sir, though as I recall, the person I witnessed in conversation with Colonel Cody was identified to me as Martin. Before I could be properly introduced that evening, the man in question fled the room.”
“Martin is no astronomer, Miss Beck, and I am, as you learned when you stole my reason for being in the garden and offered it as your own.”
She remained infuriatingly silent. Alex pressed on.
“Then you imposed yourself on my office at Greenwich and reduced a year’s worth of research on that very same comet into ruins in a matter of seconds.”
“Ruins?” Charlotte shook her head. “Such an exaggeration of an innocent—”
“The more I come to know you, Miss Beck, the more I am certain there is nothing innocent or harmless about you. Now, hear me when I tell you that I
am
Alexander Hambly. That being determined as fact, I will repeat my refusal to accompany you. And thus, do have a good day.”
He looked past the Beck woman to Franz. “Get the door for her,” he demanded, then turned his back on the both of them and started up the stairs.
Unfortunately, Charlotte Beck followed him.
He allowed her a few more steps and then, when he reached the first floor landing, stopped short. This time rather than colliding with him, the Beck woman nimbly slipped past Alex to stand between him and the upper floor.
“Now perhaps you’ll listen to reason,” she said.
Her position on the stairs put them eye-to-eye, giving Alex even more than his anger to consider. The American wore an expression of determination that, under other circumstances, he might have found attractive. On her, however, it only drove him to further resist her challenge.
“I’ve made a promise and I shall keep it,” she said.
He shouldered past her and continued his walk upstairs but once again, she bested his pace and halted just ahead of him.
“I’ve just as little interest in spending more time with you as you have with me,” she said.
“Obviously not,” he snapped, accidentally inhaling the heady scent of her lilac perfume.
“Do not flatter yourself, sir.” She peered around him toward the servant standing beside the partially open door. “Perhaps another bargain is in order.”
“For what possible reason would I enter into an agreement with a woman whose sole purpose in life appears to be irritating me and ignoring the terms of any bargain she strikes?”
“I understand how it may appear that I …” She pursed her lips, and Alex had to look away.
Why of all the women in London did this one have to stand so close? He took a step backward and, had she not reached out to steady him, might have plummeted down the steps.
“Do take care, Viscount Hambly,” she said. “Now as to this additional arrangement. I propose we suspend my vow to leave you alone only for such time as it takes for you to pay my grandfather his requested visit.” She released her grip and lifted her gloved hand to cover her heart. “After that, we shall be back to our original terms.”
He pretended to think a moment while he allowed his gaze to travel from her fingertips up the curve of her jaw to her lips and finally, to those green eyes. “No.”
He turned his back on her. To his surprise, however, the brazen American snagged him by the arm.
“Truly,” she said, “I shall never understand the stubbornness of men, even if I live to be thirty.”
“Thirty, is it?” Alex resisted the temptation to remind Miss Beck he’d see thirty far too soon for comfort.
“Viscount Hambly, are you a man prone to wagers?”
“Never.”
“I see.” Her fingers tightened. “Just a friendly competition, then? One I’m likely to lose, I’m afraid.”
Alex could only chuckle. What the woman lacked in good sense, she made up in tenacity. “All right, what’s the wager? Not that I’m agreeing to it, mind you.”
Wide eyes looked into his and then, slowly, she blinked. “A simple foot race.”
His laughter echoed around the grand foyer and was joined, he thought, by Franz’s chuckle. “You may go, Franz,” he said, then waited until he heard the door shut and the butler’s footsteps fade away. “Have you lost your mind?” he asked Miss Beck.
“I told you the results were heavily weighted in your favor.” She affected a look he suspected was anything but innocent. “But I owe it to my grandfather to try to do as he asked.”
“You’re mad.” She pursed her lips into the most delicious pout, and Alex was sunk. “All right then,” he said. “Are there rules to this foot race?”
Miss Beck pointed to the front door below. “There are always rules.” She leaned close. “And perhaps this time I shall even follow them.” While he was laughing, she pressed past him. “Touch the doorknob and win.”
Idiot that he was, Alex began to take the steps two at a time and easily passed her. Three steps from the bottom, Miss Beck slid past him on the banister and catapulted toward the door.
She reached out to touch the proposed finish line a millisecond before him then looked up into his eyes, beaming.
“I’ll be waiting in the carriage, Viscount Hambly. I trust you want as badly as I to get this over with. Any stalling on your part would speak to the contrary.” She gave him a sweeping glance. “And mark you as a man who does not place value on his honor.”
Miss Beck then slid under his arm to open the door and step outside. A light rain had begun, and she walked through the mist as if impervious to it.
With a nudge, Franz, who had somehow returned undetected, offered Alex his hat and gloves.
“I don’t suppose there’s any way around this. She did best me in an almost fair contest,” Alex said.
Franz leaned forward to peer at Miss Beck’s retreating back. Alex joined Franz in his appreciation of the earl’s granddaughter as she paused to look over her shoulder, and then allowed the driver to help her into the carriage. He caught sight of a slender ankle as it disappeared inside.
“M’Lord, were I to be so forward as to offer an opinion, which of course I am not …”
“No, of course not,” Alex said, amused despite himself.
“I might consider any man a fool who opted not to do as that young lady requested,” Franz continued.
“Would you now?” Alex snatched the proffered gloves and hat and stepped out the door. By the time he reached the carriage, the hat was on his head, both hands were covered with gloves, and Charlotte Beck was waiting.
He settled in across from her, and the carriage lurched into motion. “You cheated,” Alex said as he adjusted his hat.
Miss Beck began to laugh. “You were bested by a girl.” She bit her lip as if to stop further mirth. “But your secret is safe with me.”
Alex’s temper flashed. “I assure you I’ve no need for you to keep my secrets.”
She rolled her eyes. “Aren’t we the grumpy one? Don’t you know you can catch more flies with honey?”
The carriage rolled over a bone-crushing spot in the road, rendering
a quick response impossible. “What sort of odd American proverb is that?” he asked when he could manage it.
“It means—”
“No explanation necessary.” Shifting positions, Alex looked at the wet, green expanse of Hyde Park rolling past. “I know what it means, Miss Beck. What I don’t know is why your grandfather insists on an audience with a Hambly.”
“You’ll have to ask Grandfather.” With another jolt, the carriage made a turn at the edge of the park. “Though I warn you not to get him overly excited. He collapsed while speaking with Uncle Edwin, and I’m very concerned it could happen again if he became angry.”
“I see.”
They rode the remainder of the way in silence, Charlotte obviously caught up in her thoughts, and Alex caught up in a dance of warring emotions: his mind on his conversation with Pembroke regarding the family’s finances and his eyes watching Charlotte Beck.
Were she not completely unsuitable for him, both in intellect and age, considering a match with her might have held his interest. As it was, he merely observed her beauty; the way the gray London light slid across her high cheekbones and cast her face in an ever-changing pattern of shadows. Had he not seen ample evidence to the contrary, he might have thought her quite a lady. And when she’d pursed her lips on the stairs, it was all he could do not to kiss her right then and there.
Perhaps a decent kiss might improve her attitude.
“What?” she said when she caught him looking.
“Just thinking about your attitude,” he said, “and how it might best be improved.”
“Well, I never.” She looked away, giving Alex a lovely view of her profile.
“A pity,” he whispered.
When the carriage halted and the driver opened the door, Alex bounded out first, just for the opportunity to help Charlotte exit. His hands easily spanned her waist, and her head just reached his chin as her feet touched the ground.
“Thank you,” she said and gestured for him to follow. Once inside, a liveried servant took over, and Charlotte Beck slipped into a room that appeared to be a library. “Remember my warning,” she said over her shoulder. “I shall hold you responsible should any further harm come to Grandfather.”
“And I shall hold
you
responsible for keeping to our bargain, Miss Beck. Remember I am here at your insistence,” he called as she shut the library door.
Alex followed the servant up the stairs, to the door at the end of the hall. Two knocks and he was ushered into a room not unlike his own father’s chambers. The Earl of Framingham sat in a chair near the window.
“I wondered which of you would come,” the earl said. “Is your father unwell?”
“He is at the Heath,” Alex said, “with no plans to return to London at this time.”
“I see. Well, forgive me for not rising to greet you, but perhaps my granddaughter has told you some of the events of this morning.” When Alex nodded, the earl shrugged. “A pity, this old age. I don’t recommend it. Do come and sit.”
Alex stepped into the room, noting immediately the incongruity of the painting over the fireplace. While the rest of the room could have belonged to any century prior to the current one, the depiction of the night sky over a collection of buildings—hung without benefit of a frame—was as fresh and modern as if it had been hung last week.
On closer inspection, Alex found the colors vivid, the brush strokes bold, and yet the effect subtle. The placement of stars, with Orion at its center, showed not only thought, but also great attention to detail. Though he did not recognize the work, this was obviously a painter of great talent.
“Nice, isn’t it?” the earl said.
“Indeed.”
“Charlotte painted it.”
Alex shook his head. “Your Charlotte?” He struggled to match the woman he’d come to know with the work of art before him. “
That
Charlotte?” he finally managed.
The old man chuckled. “My granddaughter thinks it is abominable. She gave me great trouble about hanging it at all, so I gave in and hung it in here. She’s persistent, that one.” Beck regarded him with what appeared to be amusement. “So, how’d she get you here, Alex?” He steepled his hands. “You
are
Alex, aren’t you?”
“I am, sir. As to your granddaughter’s method of coercion …” Alex paused. “Suffice it to say it involved a foot race and a questionable means of emerging victorious.”
The earl laughed. “Indeed, that would be my Charlotte. A pity she and the others will be leaving me soon for that debutante nonsense in New York. Never did think much of the idea of trolling for husbands by dressing girls in pretty clothes and parading them across a ballroom. That one’s too smart to play at domestic bliss. I intend to see her educated.” He lifted his hand as if to wave away the topic. “So, how is your brother?”
“My brother?” Alex studied the old man’s face. “Martin is well, sir.”
“Don’t lie to me, son.” The earl gripped the arms of his chair and regarded Alex with an even stare. “My family thinks me a doddering old
man, and so long as that suits my purposes, I allow it. But make no mistake; I am by no means disconnected from things of importance in this city. Even those that are neither common knowledge nor spoken about.”
Alex let out a long breath. “I see. Well, then, Martin is alive, but his well-being changes from moment to moment.”
“That Martin is still alive is answer enough. Some die at war, while others merely lose their lives. Your brother was a good chap, as I recall. I warrant you still care for him well.”
Without a fitting answer, Alex could only stare.
“Though I wish I could have spoken with your father, I confess I am glad you’re here, Alex. You see, I know things,” the earl continued. “Despite current circumstances, I know your father well. He loves both of you, but while his pride is strengthened by your accomplishments, his heart is softened by Martin’s failures.”
Alex leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Sir, might I inquire as to why you’ve summoned me?”
“As I said, I’d hoped for your father,” Framingham said almost wistfully. “He’d understand. You cannot know the whole of it. You can, however, offer an absolution of sorts.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir.”
“No, I’m sure you do not, but your father would.” He eyed Alex curiously. “Hambly’s in trouble, isn’t he? Money in the coffers running low?”
“Sir,” Alex said through clenched jaw, “I find your questions insulting.”
“Yes,” the old man said with a half-grin that Alex would have knocked off of anyone younger, “I suppose you would.” The Earl of Framingham leaned back against the cushions and seemed to be considering
what to say next. After a moment, he returned his attention to Alex. “Many years ago, your father was invaluable in handling an issue for me. With my demise bearing hard on my mind and my heart, I must make amends for the fracture I’ve allowed in our friendship.”