For the Love of a Soldier (20 page)

This was the pertinent piece to completing her puzzle. Anger swarmed him, aimed at her uncle or whoever was responsible for sending her to Hammond’s, wearing a masculine disguise and a look of quiet desperation.

As for Alexandra handling estate matters, hell, if during her lifetime, his mother had interceded to rein in his stepfather’s incompetent management, it might have saved him a fortune. However, such actions would have required his mother to show strength, and that she would not do.

His admiration for Alexandra grew. The more he learned of her, the more he liked. She attacked life head-on. She was no deserter.

He became aware of Alexandra’s eyes on him. Damned if he wasn’t grinning like an idiot again. He straightened, for she had shared her first confidence, and it deserved acknowledgment. If nothing else, he had earned an element of her trust. “You are one for details, which is good to know,” he said. “It’s what I’m counting on, why you are here.” He watched her relax and waited a beat before plunging ahead with a question that ventured into grounds Alexandra had thus far avoided. “And the property? Your father no longer owns it?”

Alexandra shook her head. “My parents are no longer alive. The estate went to his younger brother. We had a difference of opinion, and I sought lodging elsewhere.” She walked ahead but glanced back when he made no move to follow. “We should start. I’m sure it’s been a while since you’ve toured this estate.”

End of discussion
.

He had ventured as far as she was willing for him to go. Still, it was progress.

A
LEXANDRA SLID ON
her gloves and stepped toward the door, preoccupied with her thoughts. When Garrett had discussed touring his estate, the year had slipped away. She was back home, working with Marks, her father’s estate manager,
scrutinizing accounts her father had squandered and she had salvaged.

Together they had extracted blood from a stone, squeezing out every farthing from the estate to settle her father’s debts. It had been a heady time and Alex had reveled in it. Her father had nearly ruined her family. She had saved it all only to lose it to her uncle.

And she wanted it back.

She couldn’t reclaim all she had lost, but there was a small family cottage located on the coast of Brighton. She had Marks sell it to a friend of the family, who in turn promised Alex he would hold on to it until Alex could secure the funds to repurchase it. Garrett’s money might not be enough to do so, but it was a start.

She was grateful that Garrett had not pressed her for details. She wasn’t ready to share the bitterness of all she had lost with another. However, in sharing a few confidences of her own, in exchange, she hoped to receive some of Garrett’s. Something for something, or quid pro quo as Marks had explained when loaning money to tenants.

Pleased with herself, she moved to the door and down the front steps. When she turned to wait for Garrett, a gust of wind lifted a lock of his hair and it fluttered in the breeze, mirroring the slow flip in her heart as he closed the distance between them. She swallowed, reminding herself she needed to remember two things for her plan to work.

She held the reins and had the ability to say the word
no
.

G
ARRETT
was in the process of mounting Champion when he glanced over to see Alexandra greeting Autumn, the sleek mare provided for her. Her expression softened and a fleeting look of naked yearning crossed her features.

Why the hell couldn’t she look at me like that?
With raw, unconcealed desire. As if she saw something she coveted, but couldn’t have.

After Ned assisted her to mount, she sat with confidence, keeping Autumn in line. The mare had been spoiled and was hell-bent on eating every leaf within reach. With a gentle hand, Alexandra squelched this inclination, letting Autumn know who was in charge.

Garrett may be out of practice with women, but he did recall most were receptive to gifts. He couldn’t fathom his practical Alexandra going soft over sparkling baubles. As much as he’d liked to see them draped over her—preferably wearing nothing but the jewels and her earlier look of desire, Alexandra was a different sort of woman.

Independent, practical, and determined.

His Alexandra would politely thank him for his gift and
then promptly sell it to the first pawnshop in order to put food on the table. She deserved something useful but which she couldn’t afford in her present situation. His offer of a horse might catch her off guard. He wanted her off guard, in his arms, and beneath him.

He urged Champion forward to ride abreast of her. She was chatting with Stewart, but when he caught up to them, his secretary rode ahead. Smart man.

He nodded to her seat. “You ride well,” he said. “I’ll have Gus purchase a mount for you. He should arrive by the week’s end with new stock.”

Alexandra leaned down and slid her hand over Autumn’s sleek coat. “This mount is fine for my use here. I have no need, nor any place to board a horse when I return to town.”

Nothing. No flash of raw, naked yearning or flicker of unguarded excitement that lit a woman’s eyes when offered a gift. He frowned. Could he have been mistaken in what he saw earlier? No. He recognized a spark of desire when he saw it.

Damn. Alexandra, being unlike most women, forced him to employ a different tactic. “You will be able to afford stabling a horse when you return. I told you I’d pay you for your time spent here. You don’t need to worry about finances.”

“If I find I need a horse in the city, I will purchase my own.”

“I’m happy to give you—”

“Thank you, but no.” She straightened. “What’s between us is a business arrangement, nothing more. I can’t accept gifts from you, nor do I expect you to give me any. That is not our arrangement.”

“Arrangements can be changed.” Her calm practicality annoyed him. It was a damn irritating trait for a woman to have.

“Not this one.” She glanced ahead to Stewart, assessing the distance between them before she lowered her voice and added, “Thank you again for the offer, but no.” She gave Autumn a kick and caught up with his secretary.

Garrett scowled. Things were not going well. His flattery was rusty, she refused his gift, and she was using Stewart as a buffer between them.

Time to revise his tactics yet again. He needed to find her weak spot. Hell, he doubted she possessed one—until he
recalled their kisses. She had responded to him then. The woman thought too damn much. She needed to feel. He’d take a moment to regroup, deal with some estate matters, dump Stewart, and find a private, secluded glen.

W
HEN
G
ARRETT HAD
first inherited Charlton Manor, its holdings weren’t as vast as his other properties. Over the years he had expanded the grounds, purchasing as much of the adjacent land as he could. The once-modest estate now boasted over three hundred acres of fertile ground. And he had plans for all of it. Plans that were finally coming to fruition.

He grinned at Alexandra’s gasp of surprise when they crested a hill. The view before them unfurled in an impressive array of undulating brown fields dotted with men. Some trailed behind robust plow horses and raked the ground, and others followed them with cuttings they secured in the deep, sandy soil.

“What are they planting?” Alexandra asked.

“Hops, predominately. Eighty percent hops, some barley, wheat, and rye.” He dismounted and crossed to her.

Her expression was puzzled. “Hops? What for?”

“Ale,” he said. “Manufacturers of beer use hops as a main ingredient. Kent is renowned for its hop gardens. We’ll sell the hops to beer manufacturers and make a fortune.”

Her brow furrowed. “But that’s…you’re in trade?”

He nearly laughed at her expression. It mirrored his stepfather’s. “Don’t worry, I’ve already met the queen.” He couldn’t resist the quip, hearing his stepfather’s scathing rebuke.
All the more reason to go into trade.

Her lips curved. “I see that being banned from court would be of grave concern to you.”

“Of course. We supercilious imbeciles live for court. That is, when we’re not busy tossing our money away on scarlet cravats.” He assisted Alex down from Autumn.

“You’re not going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Probably not,” he teased, pleased to see her smile. It was lovely, and she was beautiful. He felt something release in his chest. He stepped back, dropping his hands from her waist.

“You’re not selling directly to people, but rather to manufacturers, so you probably are safe.”

“Saved by a clever evasion. Very astute of you.”

“Well, you’d be missed at court, at least by the women.” She glanced at him from beneath her bonnet rim, her eyes dancing with humor as she added, “But I’m sure your absence would delight their husbands.”

He laughed. “Their wives are quite safe from me. I’ve given up dangerous pursuits. My present interests lie in more lucrative ventures.” He leaned close to her. “It’s their wallets they should keep an eye on.”

She laughed. “A lesson I learned too late.”

He lowered the timbre of his voice and his eyes dipped to her lips, which tempted him, being full and ripe and just waiting to be nibbled on. “It’s never too late to learn anything.” He watched her expression change as his words registered, her cheeks coloring as she stepped away from him.

She tucked a stray strand of hair into her bonnet. “Well, thanks to your generous financial offer, I won’t be gambling again.”

She refused to rise to his bait.
Pity there.

Her eyes returned to the fields, narrowing on the workers. “As to this venture, how many of these men are tenants and how many veterans?”

He stilled and his humor fled. “I don’t keep count.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Were these all your men?”

He focused on a field hand, the man’s arm draped over his wooden crutch as he conversed with another veteran. Yes, they were his men. Loyal to him. And unlike his would-be murderer, their names were not on the Duke of Hammond’s guest list to receive an invite to one of the most coveted balls of the season.

For that reason, he believed he and Alex would be safe at Charlton Manor. However, he didn’t want to remind Alex of the danger that threatened them and lose her smile, so he didn’t point this out. He planned to speak to Holt, his field manager, and instruct him to set up a defensive perimeter. He turned to answer Alex. “Some are veterans, some tenants. They all need the work, and I need the field hands. I think they’ve more than earned the right to the jobs, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I do.”

“Many of their former employers refused to hire the men with permanent injuries. Didn’t want cripples working for them. Unsightly.”

Alex stared at him and turned to gaze over the fields. He watched her blink furiously and wondered if she saw the men or the cripples. Feared she saw the soldiers and him as some Goddamn savior to them. Christ, if she only knew the truth.

A cool breeze fluttered Alex’s bonnet and rustled her skirts, and Garrett found his attention drawn to her rather than the men. She was easier on the eyes—and his conscience.

“It’s a fine thing you’ve given these men. And, Garrett”—she paused, surprising him with the use of his name—“it’s not just a job that you’ve provided. You know that, don’t you?”