Heartbreak and Honor (20 page)

Instead he examined his fingernails. “She refused my offer three times yesterday. I haven’t had the opportunity to propose today, but there’s always this evening.”

He sent a covert glance to the open doors. Anyone might overhear their conversation. How trustworthy was the staff?

More than Lucan’s bufflehead of an outrider, he hoped. A word of reprimand to the chap this afternoon resulted in the fellow taking his leave along with several valuable items from the carriage house. He wasn’t the first hireling to acquire a position intent on stealing from his employer.

Needham released a low laugh. “Indeed? She won’t be easily won, I’m afraid. She has much at stake.”

“At stake?” Lucan frowned.

Needham fingered one side of his mustache. “Alexa is in a difficult place at present. The title may well be awarded to Shona, but Alexa has inherited everything unentailed. Did she share that with you?”

“Yes,” Lucan nodded, “she did, and that along with the scurrilous gossip regarding her presently flooding the upper salons is, yet, another reason why I’d like to wed her at the earliest convenience. Making her my duchess is the best way to protect her.”

The pudgy little dog flopped onto his back, presenting his rounded stomach for a rub. When Needham didn’t comply, the dog maneuvered onto his haunches, and cast his soulful gaze upon Lucan.

Not a chance, my furry friend.

“If she marries you, Harcourt, she loses her inheritance. She must marry a Scot to keep it. That’s her father’s last directive.”

Lucan’s gaze swung to the other man. “She didn’t mention that detail.”

His little gypsy didn’t want to lose her funds. He didn’t blame her. Few women possessed funds of their own or enjoyed the freedom financial independence afforded. “Easily remedied. I’ll settle a portion on Alexa and have a contract drawn to prevent doubts.”

“Have you discussed this with her? It’s her decision to make. I’d welcome the match. I believe you a decent sort and you’d do well by her.” Needham ran a hand over the dog’s back. “And I think you capable of defending her. Which, although women stubbornly refuse to admit, they do need and welcome.”

“I appreciate your support.” The smile Lucan gave him held equal parts relief and pleasure.

Uncrossing his legs, Needham examined the clock. “By Jove, we shall be late if they don’t put in an appearance soon.”

Lucan grinned when the determined dog crawled, dragging his hind legs, into his master’s lap.

“No, Pugsley. I do not need dog hair covering me.” Needham set the dog on the floor then pushed to stand. “Alexa’s rather like a feral horse. You might be able to tame her, teach her to accept a saddle and bridle, but her heart will always crave freedom to run wild, and if you deny her that, force her to fit into the mold you believe a duchess should conform to, you will destroy her—break her spirit.”

Definitely not the words of a man bent on harming her.

Lucan rose as well. “I have no intention of—”

“Here we are. Do forgive our tardiness, but I’m sure you’ll agree our lateness is well worth it.” Mrs. Needham sailed into the room, Miss Needham, Seonaid Ferguson, and Alexa in her wake.

A young buck at his first ball possessed more aplomb than Lucan at the moment. His blasted tongue refused to form words, his lungs stalled, and his eyes wouldn’t heed his command to blink at the vision of Alexa in a royal blue and gold gown, glittering sapphire combs adoring her silky curls with more jewels gracing her ears and neck, and a playful smile curving her rouged mouth.

“Harcourt, old man, you’re gaping. Do shut your mouth and bow before an albatross alights inside.” Needham whispered sotto voce from the side of his mouth, his voice riddled with humor.

Lucan clamped his mouth closed and hid the telltale flush heating his ears by sweeping the women a courtier’s bow. “Ladies, I don’t know when I’ve ever beheld a lovelier foursome. I’m overcome with admiration.”

As one, the women curtsied, murmuring, “Thank you.”

“Miss Ferguson, I didn’t realize you’d arrived in Town,” Lucan said.

Miss Ferguson bestowed one of her gentle smiles on Lucan. “Just this morning, Your Grace. My brother and his wife send their greetings.”

“My dear, you are ravishing.” Needham kissed his wife’s hand, and she dimpled, coloring like a schoolgirl.

How long had they been married? A fool could see they still adored each other. Had Needham ever strayed? Most married men did, with the exception of Sethwick, Warrick, Clarendon, Yancy, and Bretheridge, Lucan’s five giddily married chums.

Lucan skirted the marble-topped mahogany table, and as he did, the pug jumped from the settee.

Beaming, Mrs. Needham looped her arm through her husband’s proffered elbow. “Shall we? I’m quite looking forward to seeing the play from your box in the first gallery, Your Grace. I’ve not enjoyed such a spectacular view before.”

Lucan extended both elbows and winked. “I’m to have the honor of escorting these goddesses? How did I, a mere mortal, earn such a privilege?”

“A bit overdone, don’t you think, cousin dear? Seonaid?” Katrina chuckled and peeked around him to see both Alexa and Miss Ferguson grinning.

“Yes, quite.” Alexa tilted her head, precociousness causing the gold flecks in her eyes to flash. “As for your good fortune, Your Grace, it’s nothing of the sort. You have the larger carriage, therefore it’s logical we make use of it else one of us would be compelled to sit upon the other.”

Alexa laid her hand atop his arm, and though her glove, and his shirt and cutaway coat separated their skin, a jolt seared him just the same. From her little start and half-gasp, she’d felt it too.

Lucan would endure the lot, piled in a chaise’s close confines if it provided the opportunity to hold her. He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. “Alas, I shouldn’t have offered the use of mine, and I might have enjoyed the privilege of your plump bum atop my lap once more.”

Chapter 23

Twenty minutes later, Alexa descended from the plush interior of Lucan’s carriage parked along Catherine Street before the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane. It took nearly the entire ride for her skittish pulse to calm and her body temperature to return to normal after his wicked remark.

Sit on his lap, indeed.
Sounds wonderful.
Her buttocks still tingled where the bulge of his manhood had pressed against them yesterday.

Accepting his outstretched hand, she permitted him to tuck hers into his side and braced herself for the now familiar jarring sensation his touch caused.

A dank breeze wafted by, and she shivered, settling her velvet cloak more tightly about her shoulders. The weather had taken an abrupt turn for the worse, and the sky, which had glowed a vibrant cerulean yesterday morning, now threatened to unleash an ugly gale upon them.

A hint of Lucan’s woodsy cologne lingered in the air. Quite the most delicious smelling man she’d ever met. She furtively eyed him from beneath her lashes.

Dressed in his evening finery, stark black except for a ruby and diamond stick pin in his neckcloth, the man exuded male perfection.

When had she become intrigued with him? When she left London, she feared she’d leave her heart behind, which thoroughly botched her future plans of marrying and having a family.

“Oh, it’s become quite brisk, hasn’t it?” Aunt Bridget hustled past, expertly steering Katrina and Miss Ferguson through the throng, like a schooner parting the sea.

Shaking his head in bemusement, Uncle Hugo followed, leaving Alexa and Lucan to trail at the rear.

“Alexa, we shall go straight to my box rather than mill about and chat. Better, I think, to distance you from the gutter-minds for now. I have several friends I’m anxious to introduce you to. They have promised to visit our box, and my aunt specifically requested you be seated beside her.” His lips twitched, and he winked. “She’ll undoubtedly say something scandalous.”

She gave him a mischievous grin. “I hope so.”

“Hmm, perhaps I ought to keep you two apart. No telling what sort of a conundrum the pair of you might dredge up together.” Lucan guided her past two couples animatedly chatting at the stairway’s base.

Upon spying Alexa, they ceased conversing and presented their rigid backs.

Cut direct.

Her smile faded. The injustice rankled. She lifted her chin as they ascended the stairs. “This is what you’d have to endure if I were your duchess. Constant shunning and ridicule. Is that what you want?”

Lucan directed the quartet a stern look. “If you were
my
duchess, those inferior cod’s heads would grovel and beg for a kind word from you. They’re not fit to wait upon you.”

At his profession, the sting from their scorn evaporated.

He slipped an arm about her waist. “Marry me.”

“No.” She would give him credit for persistence, but edged away, heedful of the impropriety of his touch.

She might easily become enamored of Lucan, but to what avail? Alexa intended to depart in a short while—wanted to leave upon settling the inheritance hullabaloo—and she doubted she’d ever return to London. Or England, for that matter.

Encountering him every now and again was simply too painful to contemplate. She mightn’t be the stuff of which duchesses were cast, but that didn’t mean she relished seeing him with another woman. Even if it was the wisest course and would make him happier in the end.

Perhaps she’d hire a companion and travel the continent. Yes, that might do nicely. If she could afford the distraction. Mr. Ponsby hadn’t disclosed her actual allowance.

Why did her father stipulate she must marry a Scot?

Confounded inconvenient.

Never mind that for now
.

Finding Balcomb topped her list, and when she knew the facts, the whole of everything behind her tenure with the travellers, she could move forward and plot a course for the rest of her life.

Wait. What about the letter from my father
?

Where had it got to? Amongst the drama yesterday, she’d forgotten about the note. Uncle Hugo or Aunt Bridget must have tucked it away. When they returned home tonight, she’d ask about it.

Once inside the theater, Alexa surrendered her cloak and put aside the previous ugliness as the evening’s excitement took hold. After yesterday, she was determined to enjoy her time with Lucan, brief though it may be, and glean whatever pleasure she might from her short Season. Travellers always chose to view their circumstances through optimism’s lenses.

She looked this way and that, taking in the theater and the grandiose patrons. She’d never seen a performance indoors before, although she’d enjoyed several at summer fairs upon outdoor stages. On occasion, she’d played her violin with other tinker musicians for entertainment and coin.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it, and larger than I’d anticipated.” She almost strained her neck, gawking at the ceiling’s painted angelic beings. Was the ornate plasterwork’s gilding actual gold?

“The theater seats more than three thousand, and now, gas light illuminates much of it, far safer than candles.” Smiling and nodding, Lucan propelled her around a passel of tittering misses, each virginally attired in white, including their slippers and hair fripperies.

Craning her neck, Alexa looked for the others in their party. There they were, chatting with several others near the bottom of an imposing carpeted staircase. They turned and smiled as she and Lucan approached.

“Isn’t it magnificent, Alexa?” Katrina glowed with excitement.

Unlike Alexa, she thrived in crowds and the
tonnish
hubbub.

Seonaid’s astute gaze vacillated between Alexa and Lucan. “It can be a bit much for those not accustomed to the pomp.”

Alexa nodded. “Yes, it’s grand, and yes, it’s a bit much, but I’m quite anticipating the performance.”

“Shall we make our way to my box?” Lucan extended his free arm, indicating they should precede him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Harrison leaning languidly against a column, arms folded, and a brooding expression warping his sullen countenance.

Drat. Why did he have to be here tonight? Most assuredly, Minerva and Shona attended as well. Alexa hadn’t completely sorted her feelings, hence when she received a note today asking her to call upon Minerva, she’d sent her regrets.

In the missive, her stepmother implored Alexa to reconcile the differences between them, but something rang insincere in her overdone plea. The letter lay on Alexa’s dressing table where she had tossed it.

What differences did Minerva mean?

That she thought her daughter was entitled to the entire estate and inheritance? That there remained no doubt she resented Alexa’s reappearance?

That she and her bounder brother might have had something to do with Steafan’s death
?

One thing became clear as Loch Arkaig’s pristine waters; Alexa couldn’t live with them, and honestly, she didn’t trust Minerva, even if motherly fear for her daughter’s future motivated her actions.

Moments later, Alexa sat in the front row of Lucan’s box, him to her right and the delightful Lady Middleton to her left. The remainder of their party sat behind them. What a splendid view of the stage. She angled forward to better see.

“Here, Alexa.” Katrina tapped Alexa’s back. “Use my opera glasses. I’ll borrow Mama’s or Seonaid’s.” She dipped her head close to Alexa’s ear. “Mama always falls asleep after the intermission. I pray she doesn’t start snoring again as she did at the opera.”

Katrina rolled her eyes. “She’s not a delicate snorer either. Rather sounds like a bull snorting or choking. Several guests hissed their annoyance when she rattled particularly loudly during an aria.”

“Thank you.” Grinning, Alexa accepted the pair.

With the extent of shopping they’d done these past weeks, she couldn’t believe Aunt Bridget had overlooked purchasing additional opera glasses.

“I brought mine.” Seonaid produced a mother-of-pearl embellished set. “I purchased them while in Paris visiting my aunt.”

To the rear of the box, Seonaid raised her glasses and peered round the theater. She gasped and stiffened, her jaw dropping open. She snapped her mouth closed before abruptly lowering her theater glasses.

“Are you all right, Seonaid?” Nothing untoward caught Alexa’s attention in the sea of unfamiliar faces tilted toward their box.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Seonaid offered a wan smile. “I didn’t know Lord Devaux-Rousset had returned to London, is all. I met him in Paris also.”

Judging from the tense set of her mouth, their association hadn’t been altogether pleasant.

“Miss Atterberry, you’ve drawn the attention of several theater-goers.” Smiling and occasionally waving, the dowager inclined her neatly coiffed silver head toward the other stalls. The turquoise ostrich feather atop her head dipped and bobbed with her exaggerated movements, as did her spectacular diamond earrings.

“Those Hinton windbags are sharing that cow Clutterbuck’s box.” She inclined her head and gave a little finger wave their way. “Yes, I’m talking about you, too, you pernicious chinwags.”

Suppressing a giggle, Alexa set the opera glasses to her eyes and instantly regretted the impulse when she encountered a myriad of attendees pointing their attention in the direction of Lucan’s box.

Mr. Mortimer waved exuberantly, earning him a glower and the smack of her fan from the lady beside him.

Lucan edged closer to Alexa and lifted her hand. He kissed the back for a lingering moment. Given the surge in whispers nippily following his kiss, several sets of theater glasses likely dipped to focus upon their hands.

“Please, please, marry me, Kitten,” Lucan whispered in her ear.

Alexa swung round to admonish him, but her mouth dropped open at the heat radiating from his granite eyes
.

If I were tinder, I’d burst into flames
.

The scorching temperature permeating her was hot enough to incinerate. She flipped her fan open. Heaven above, what this man did to her . . .

What she’d
like
him to do to her.

He lowered his lashes partway, a seductive smile teasing one side of his too-tempting mouth, the blasted dimple in his cheek mesmerizing her. “Smile and nod, then give me a look of besotted adoration. You may flutter your eyelashes and giggle to make your infatuation more believable if you wish.”

“Foolish man, I’ll do no such thing.” Alexa chuckled, the tension easing from her.

“Then say yes to my suit.”

“No.” She released another tense laugh. “Have you always been this obstinate or do you not understand the word?”

Hadn’t she thought the same thing about him when they’d first met? Only now, she found his pigheadedness charming and amusing.

He winked and set her hand upon his sculpted thigh, holding it there by placing his hand atop hers. “My ploy worked, didn’t it? Aren’t you more relaxed now?”

“Uh hum.” She was.

The dowager nudged Alexa with her fan.

“Yes, my lady?”

Alexa tried to ease her hand free, but Lucan firmly pressed her palm into his leg, giving a brief squeeze and another wicked flash of white teeth.

At this rate, she might be the one to ravish him. She clenched her teeth against the desire to trail her fingertips along the muscle.

Surveying the audience, he patted her hand as if he knew perfectly well how he affected her.

Probably did.

The earlier cacophony filling the auditorium filtered to a muted buzz as the audience quieted in readiness for the performance.

Dowager Lady Middleton all but bellowed into the stillness, “Tell me, my dear, why on earth did you refuse my nephew’s proposals?”