Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (14 page)

“I see. So, have you chosen your bride yet?”

“Hardly. I only arrived in London a few days ago.”

“More than enough time to at least whittle down the list of candidates to a manageable number. Any lady in particular standing out in your mind?”

Another image of chocolate-colored eyes and glossy dark hair flashed in his mind. “There are any number of possible candidates,” he said vaguely. “I’ll have more opportunities tomorrow evening, as I’m attending Lord and Lady Ralstrom’s fete.”

“So are Victoria and I.”

“Looking forward to it, are you?” Colin asked with an inward smirk, knowing how much Nathan deplored Society functions.

“Normally I’d rather be nibbled to death by ducks, but I admit I’m quite looking forward to watching you mull over bridal candidates.”

“Speaking of ducks, how are yours?”

“Very happy, thank you for asking.”

“They’re not
here
, are they?”

Nathan looked like innocence itself, something that instantly rose Colin’s suspicions. “Of course not,” he answered with an injured sniff.

“Thank God.”

“I can only be grateful they didn’t hear you say that. They’re very fond of
you
, you know. You
are
their uncle.”

“I am not an uncle to those ducks. Or your buttoneating goat, or the pig or lamb or whatever other beasts you’ve taken on since I saw you last. Show me a
child
, and I’ll happily take the title of doting uncle.”

“We’re working on it.”

“Hmmm, yes, I imagine you are.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “You know, if you hadn’t married Lady Victoria,
I
could have wed her and saved myself all this infernal bride hunting.”

Nathan smirked. “She liked me better. She’s thinks I’m very clever and unsurpassedly handsome.”

“Poor chit must have led a very sheltered life. And clearly she needs spectacles. But still, she’s very charming. The least she could have done was have a sister.”

“I believe there’s a distant cousin in Yorkshire who isn’t
too
terribly old and has almost all her teeth. Shall I arrange an introduction?”

“There are privet hedges two stories down, right below that window behind you. Shall I arrange an introduction?”

Nathan laughed, then reached out and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Never fear, your brother is here.
I’ll make it my personal mission to assist you in finding the perfect bride.”

“Dear God.”

“Not necessary to call upon help from above while I’m here. Not to worry, I’ve much experience in these matters.”

“Indeed? I don’t recall that you were actually looking for a bride when Victoria came along.”

“And yet I still found her. You see how good I am?”

“You couldn’t find your own arse with both hands and the benefit of a detailed map. I’ll find my own bride, thank you very much.”

Nathan nodded slowly, then stepped back and folded his arms across his chest. “Since you clearly don’t wish to discuss your bride search or the mysterious Alexandra whom you claim not to know, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

Damn, he was clearly losing his touch if he could be read so easily. He strode to his wardrobe and yanked out a clean shirt. “I’m bothered I slept much later than I intended and am now pressed for time for an appointment.”

“Not to worry. I’m sure no one other than I—who knows you so well—would guess you’re troubled about something. What is it?”

Colin turned, and their gazes met, Nathan’s filled with unmistakable concern. “Let me help,” Nathan said quietly.

Guilt grabbed Colin by the throat. Such a simple offer, but one that cut straight to his heart. Because even though they’d made their peace and mended their rift, he still didn’t feel he deserved such unconditional consideration. Nathan freely offered to him what he’d withheld four years ago—help with no questions asked. Because he believed in him. Ironic and humbling, as Colin had not doled out a similar offer four years ago.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, then cleared his throat to rid his voice of its oddly husky timbre. “And I would like to discuss something with you—”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“But unfortunately I have an appointment I must get ready for now.”

“Why don’t you join us for dinner this evening?”

“All right. But I’d prefer not to discuss this at Wexhall’s. Come for breakfast tomorrow, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Nathan studied him for several more seconds, then asked, “Does whatever’s on your mind have something to do with Malloran and his footman turning up dead?”

I sincerely hope not
. “Wexhall told you about that?”

“Yes. But even if he hadn’t, it’s the main topic of conversation no matter where you turn. Are the deaths troubling you?”

“I find them…puzzling. I hope I’ll know more by the time we talk tomorrow, at which time I’ll tell you everything.”

While it was clear Nathan wished to ask him more questions, he merely nodded. “Very well. I’ll be here for breakfast tomorrow morning. See to it that you’re awake.”

“See to it that you save me some biscuits and chocolate. Meanwhile, I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”

“Agreed.” Nathan whistled for B.C., who’d clearly heard the word biscuit and, believing a treat was in his immediate future, jumped off the bed to trot after his master. The instant the door closed behind them, Colin hastily dressed. He had a great deal more to find out about Madame Alexandra Larchmont and not much time to do so before she arrived. His heart rate quickened at the thought of seeing her again. Touching her again.

Kissing her again.

But before that happened, there were things they needed to discuss. Certainly things she needed to tell him. And he intended to see to it that she didn’t leave here today until she’d done so.

Seated in Logan Jennsen’s richly appointed drawing room, Alex studied the cards spread on the table before her. She lifted her gaze to find him regarding her through his intense, dark eyes, with an expression that stilled her. Unlike Colin, there was nothing unreadable or inscrutable in the way this man was looking at her. The desire was unmistakable.

“What do my cards indicate for my future, Madame?” he asked, leaning forward.

She drew a deep breath, noting the pleasant scent of his shaving soap.

“I continue to see a wish for retribution, a deep need to right wrongs done against you. A need to prove yourself. To show people, one person from your past in particular, that you’re a force to be reckoned with. I predict more wealth in your future, but also great sorrow. And profound loneliness.”

“I see. Tell me, do you think there is a chance that I can change my future? Do something now that will prevent this profound loneliness you predict?”

“I’m certain that if you want companionship, you’ve only to say so, and you’ll be surrounded by people.”

“True. But I’m more interested in quality than quantity. For example, I’d prefer to spend my time with one woman who interests me than with a dozen who bore me.” With his gaze steady on hers, he said softly, “
You
interest me, Madame.”

Before she could reply, he reached out and lightly brushed a single fingertip across her cheek. His touch
was warm and gentle, and although unexpected, not at all unpleasant. “Mr. Jennsen—”

“Logan.”

“I’m very flattered,” she said, meaning it sincerely. “But—”

“No buts,” he said, shaking his head. “I just want you to know that I find you…refreshing. Much more so than these Society diamonds I’m surrounded by. You don’t put on false airs. I come from dirt-poor beginnings and am far more attracted to someone like you, whose nose isn’t in the clouds and hasn’t had everything handed to her by a butler.”

“You barely know me.”

“And you barely know me, which is something I’d like, very much, to rectify.”

“Some of those Society diamonds are actually very nice.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still want to get to know you better.”

“Logan,” she said gently, “I’m married.”

His dark gaze narrowed. “Are you? I’ve some experience with women, and you don’t have the ‘look’ of a married woman about you.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she struggled to remain outwardly poised. “I beg your pardon?”

He leaned forward, pinning her with his compelling gaze. “I think you use ‘Madame’ for effect in your fortune-telling. And because it affords you freedoms you wouldn’t have as an unmarried woman—such as coming to my home unescorted—as well as a buffer between you and any unwanted suitors. I admire your ingenuity. It’s precisely what I would do in your position.”

Nonplussed, she managed to hold his gaze while debating how to best answer his allegation. Before she could decide however, he continued, “I also suspect
you’re not married because I cannot imagine a man being fortunate to have you yet allowing another man to see you home from the soirees you attend. If you were mine, I’d damn well escort you home myself and not leave the job to Lord Sutton or anyone else.”

Her insides fluttered at the mention of Lord Sutton, a reaction she hid by hoisting a brow. “Perhaps not all men are as possessive as you.”

“When it comes to their women,
all
men are possessive. Unless, of course, the relationship is an unsatisfying or unhappy one. So, Madame, am I right? Allow me to assure you that if you confirm my suspicions, I will tell no one.”

Part of her warned that to admit the truth was very unwise, that once a secret was told it was no longer a secret. Also, telling him would only serve to encourage his attentions. And she didn’t want that.

Did she?

The attentions of a fabulously wealthy, incredibly handsome, intelligent man?
her inner voice whispered, incredulous.
Are you mad? What woman
wouldn’t
want such a man’s attention?

Yet how could she take such a risk?

“Please know,” he said, when she continued to hesitate, “that I’ll allow you to dictate how far our relationship does or does not progress. And keep in mind that I’ve neither a strong desire to remain a bachelor nor a lofty title that must be protected from anyone not of the upper echelons of English Society.” Reaching out, he lightly clasped her hand. “At the very least, I would like to offer you my friendship and have yours in return.”

An image of Lord Sutton flashed in her mind…a man who could never, would never be hers. Logan Jennsen was not only extremely attractive, he was available. And perhaps just what she needed to help her forget Lord Sutton.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m…intrigued.”

A slow, half smile curved his lips. “And hopefully tempted.”

Unable to deny it, she nodded. Then reached a compromise with her conscience. “I am. Enough to admit that I can think of no one who would object to me forming a
friendship
with you.”

He smiled with genuine pleasure. “Not an admission that you’re not married, but still, the best news I’ve heard in a long time.” He lifted her hand to press a kiss to her fingertips, and heat kindled in his eyes. “Friendship is a very good place to start.”

After returning home from her extraordinary meeting with Logan, Alex locked the door, then, with her heart pounding, peered out the window at the street below. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been watching her, yet nothing appeared amiss.

Moving away from the window, she removed her spencer and bonnet, then paced, willing herself to focus on Logan, a man who wanted her and was free to do so, but her mind stubbornly kept drifting back to Lord Sutton. And the extraordinary kiss they’d shared.

Nothing in her experience had prepared her for him and that devastating kiss. Everything she knew of what occurred between men and women she’d observed on London’s streets. Secretive assignations in back alleys, marked by animal grunts and rough sounds, grasping hands and harsh language. Such sights and sounds were impossible to escape, and they’d left her certain that in spite of her natural curiosity and the whispered yearnings of her own body, the actual act—or anything leading up to it—was nothing of which she wanted to partake.

But those few glorious minutes in his arms had stunned and delighted yet confused her. What she’d felt
in no way resembled the hastily performed lewd acts she’d witnessed. With that single kiss, he’d opened up floodgates she hadn’t fully realized were closed. She’d tasted and touched. And now she wanted more.

Why, oh why, if she were going to have such feelings, such yearnings, couldn’t they be directed toward someone who didn’t orbit in a social class so far above hers as to be completely out of reach? Someone who wasn’t looking for a wife—a fine lady of impeccable breeding. A woman who could never be her.

For her own peace of mind, she should avoid seeing him, stay far away, not put herself close to a temptation she wasn’t certain she could resist. Concentrate on someone else, perhaps like Logan Jennsen. But how could she, when Lord Sutton occupied every corner of her mind?

Unfortunately, avoiding him, at least at present, was impossible. She couldn’t give up her fortune-telling income from the parties he’d doubtless be attending while searching for his wife—she needed the money too badly. She and Emma had plans for Robbie and all the other children—children whose lives were as wretched as hers had once been. She wanted, needed to help them, and she couldn’t just throw away everything she’d worked for, everything that was finally within her reach because of some ridiculous infatuation with a man who next week undoubtedly wouldn’t recall her name.

Of course, Logan Jennsen was a rich man—

She cut off the thought before it could take root. Damnation, pursuing a man because of his money was no better than stealing, and she was no longer a thief. And neither was she for sale. There was no doubt in her mind that if she secured funds from Logan for her cause, he’d expect payment—of a sort she wasn’t willing to give. No, she would earn her money telling fortunes and retain her soul and dignity in the process.

But as for Lord Sutton…there was also the matter
of the danger she’d read in his cards. She couldn’t simply walk away from that without trying to determine if she was correct. If today’s reading didn’t indicate the danger and betrayal she’d previously seen, she’d avoid further temptation and not schedule any more private readings with him, regardless of how much he offered to pay. But if the readings were the same, she’d at least have to try to help him. Attempt to figure out the who, where, and when of whatever threatened him. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself.