Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (19 page)

She inclined her head. “Very well.” While she shuffled, she said, “I will tell you something of your past, present, and future. What do you wish to know?”

Nathan pondered for several seconds, then asked, “How many children will my wife and I have?”

She nodded, then after the cutting and dealing of the cards, she studied them for a full minute, her expression serious. “The cards representing your past show
that you followed the path you’d chosen for many years, but then several years ago a life-changing event occurred. Something that brought harm to people you loved and caused you to…lose your way. Forced you to start over. I see estrangement from those you cared about. It was a very lonely time for you. But you finally found your way home again.”

An odd feeling gripped Colin’s gut at her accurate words, and Nathan’s gaze flicked over to him. It was clear in that quick look that his brother erroneously believed he’d told her about his past.

“Go on,” Nathan with a smile.

“In your recent past, I see both great happiness and great pain. The happiness is clearly due to love, giving and receiving. The pain is due to loss. The loss of a child.” She looked up at Nathan. “Your child.”

The tension gripping Colin dissipated, and he barely held back a snort at her ridiculous statement. Nathan didn’t have children. Relief rushed through him. For a moment there, he’d actually believed some of this nonsense. Although he inwardly cringed at the sudden somber turn of the reading. Bloody hell, this was supposed to be an entertainment. Couldn’t she make up things that were less…morbid?

He glanced at Nathan and stilled. His brother’s face had gone visibly pale, and he was staring at Alexandra intently, his hands gripped together so tightly his knuckles showed bone white beneath the skin.

“Go on,” Nathan said, his voice rough, almost harsh.

“Your present is consumed with your marriage and is filled with love. Happiness. And the prospect of fatherhood. You are extremely concerned for your wife’s current delicate condition”—she indicated the last grouping of cards—“but your future indicates all will be well. You’ve nothing to fear.” She smiled at him. “Would you
like to hear my prediction as to whether the child will be a boy or girl?”

Nathan swallowed, then nodded.

“A girl. Followed by three more children. Therefore, to answer your question, you are destined to have four children.” She picked up the cards from the table, then turned to Colin, and asked, “Are you ready, my lord?”

But Colin’s gaze was riveted across the table on Nathan, who tunneled his fingers through his hair, then dragged his hands down his colorless face. He met Colin’s gaze, and the look in Nathan’s eyes stilled him. Before Colin could question him, Nathan nodded slowly.

“It’s true,” he said, his voice soft, gravelly. “Victoria miscarried four months ago. We just confirmed last week that she’s expecting again.”

Colin simply stared. “I…had no idea. I’m very sorry for the loss you both suffered.”

“Thank you. As we hadn’t yet told anyone we were expecting, we decided there was no point in mentioning the miscarriage. We planned to tell everyone about this pregnancy once she was further along.” He looked at Alexandra through very serious eyes. “Your skills are…formidable, Madame.”

“Thank you, but I merely interpreted what the cards indicated.”

Nathan smiled. “Skilled and modest. A formidable combination.”

An unsettling realization crawled through Colin. If she’d been so unerringly correct in Nathan’s reading, then all the dire things she’d predicted for
him
might be accurate as well. They certainly mirrored the dark feeling of foreboding that had consumed him over the past weeks.

Forcing his thoughts back to the conversation, he turned to Nathan and extended his hand. “Please accept
my congratulations to both you and Victoria on your impending parenthood.”

Nathan clasped his hand tightly between both of his. And in the space of a single heartbeat, Colin read in Nathan’s eyes both joy and fear. “Thank you. I’d prefer if you keep the news to yourself for now…Uncle Colin.”

A lump of emotion formed in his throat, and he coughed to clear it away. God willing the heavy weight of gloom he felt surrounding his own future would lift and he’d see Nathan’s child born. And perhaps one of his own.

As if reading his thoughts, Nathan said, “I’d be delighted if you’d return the favor and make me an uncle.”

“That’s why I’m here. To find a bride and make that happen.”
Before it’s too late
.

“Perhaps Madame can tell you who your bride will be.”

“I’ve asked her that very question during my two previous readings, but all she’s so far discerned is that apparently the lady has dark hair.”

“If you recall, my lord,” she said, “my saying that your bride was dark-haired was at your request and merely for Lady Newtrebble’s benefit. I’ve seen nothing in your cards about your future wife.”

“Well, perhaps today’s reading will reveal all. I’m ready whenever you are, Madame.”

Instead of picking up her cards, she regarded him steadily. “Given the nature of my previous predictions, perhaps it might be best if we rescheduled our appointment.”

Colin shook his head. “I appreciate your discretion, but I’d prefer Nathan be here.”

“Was there some problem with your previous readings?” Nathan asked, his gaze turning sharp.

“I’m afraid they weren’t filled with sunny predictions for my future. We’re hoping for better results this time.” He turned to Alexandra. “Let us begin.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Reaching into her other pocket, she withdrew a different, smaller deck of cards. After completing the shuffling and cutting, she slowly dealt them, laying them out in a different pattern than she’d used before.

After studying the cards at length, she looked at him through troubled eyes. “I’m afraid I see the same things as I did in your previous two readings, with death and betrayal showing an even stronger presence than before—both in your past and in your future. It appears that the betrayal in your past is somehow related to that in your future.”

She glanced back at the cards, and her frown deepened. “The inner turmoil I saw earlier is now more profound. You’re experiencing great confusion and conflict, yet there is also a growing sense of urgency, a fear of things you will not be able to do. Of responsibilities left undone.”

The accuracy of her words tensed his every muscle, cramping his insides. The intensity in her voice, in her eyes held him spellbound. “What of the dark-haired woman you previously saw?” he asked.

She hesitated, then pointed to the cards. “She is still there. Closer to you than before. Indeed, it is her location that concerns me the most.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked up, and her gaze met his. Again she hesitated, looking distinctly troubled. Finally, she said, “Her card remains at the center of the danger and deceit and is the only thing standing between your card and the death card. Which means she will either save you or—”

“Be the death of me?” he suggested, keeping his tone light.

But her expression remained utterly serious. “Yes.”

“What of my future wife?”

“As in the previous readings, I’m afraid I see no mention of her here, my lord.”

His gaze roamed over her face, taking in her serious eyes and lush lips, then coming to rest on the long, shiny tendrils spiraling down toward her collarbone. Long, shiny tendrils of dark hair. And a feeling of unshakable surety slapped him. There was no doubt in his mind.

She
was the dark-haired woman.

Alex looked at Colin from across the space
of his luxurious carriage and, for the dozenth time since they’d departed his town house, wondered what he was thinking. He’d been preoccupied ever since she’d completed his reading, silent during the ride to her rooms.

Was he thinking, as she was, about their kiss? About where it might have led had they not been interrupted? She desperately wanted to believe she would have regained her senses, would have emerged from the sensual world in which she’d been lost even without the knocking on the door, but there was no point in entertaining such a patent falsehood.

The shockingly delicious sensation of his hand beneath her skirt, the heat of his palm cupping her bottom…never had she imagined anything so arousing. Just thinking about it set up that insistent throb between her legs.

Her thoughts were interrupted when they arrived at her building, where Colin and his footman accompanied her upstairs. While she gathered her meager belongings into a worn leather portmanteau, Emma
arrived. After quick introductions, she explained the plan to her friend, whose blue eyes alternately darted looks of distrust at Lord Sutton, and glances of pure admiration at his tall, handsome young footman.

“I hate to leave you,” she said to Emma, twisting her fingers together, “but if I brought danger here—to you, to the children—I’d never forgive myself.”

Emma grasped her hands and gently squeezed them to stop their fidgeting. “Don’t ye worry about anythin’, Alex. I’ll take care o’ the wee ones and the bakin’. Most important thing is you bein’ safe.” She scowled at Colin. “From
everything
.”

Colin inclined his head. “Keeping her safe is my intention, Miss Bagwell.”

“I’m sure it is.” Emma’s chin jutted out. “I’m just wonderin’ if it’s yer
only
intention.”

Alex gasped, stunned at her friend’s unmistakable implications and fierce tone. Before she could find her voice, Colin said, “No harm will come to her, Miss Bagwell.”

“See to it that it don’t,” Emma said sharply. “From anyone. Yerself included.”

“Emma—” Alex began.

“I will protect her with my life,” he said quietly, his gaze steady on Emma’s. “And I thank you for your words. I admire plain speaking. Alexandra is fortunate to have such a loyal and steadfast friend.”

“
I’m
the fortunate one, havin’ her,” Emma said, her eyes narrowed. “There’s no one finer, and I don’t want her hurt. By nobody. In any way.”

“Then we are in complete accord.”

A heavy silence filled the air. Alex looked at him—a handsome, wealthy, educated aristocrat of impeccable bearing and breeding, dressed in the finest clothing, standing in her humble rooms, on the rough wooden floor covered by the simple handmade cloth rug she’d
fashioned from scraps of material. A humorless, bitter laugh rose in her throat at the incongruous picture, a sharp, piercing reminder of who and what she was. And who and what he was. And how those two things would never, could never, intersect in any way.

She cleared her throat, then said to him, “I’m all packed, but I’d like a few minutes alone with Emma, please.”

He nodded. “I’ll await you in the carriage.” The footman lifted the portmanteau and followed him from the room.

The instant the door closed behind them, Emma let out a long breath and fanned herself with her hand. “Bloody hell, I think I’ve got me the vapors. Weren’t that just the most beautiful man ye’ve ever seen in yer life?”

Before she could stop herself, Alex let out a sigh that matched Emma’s and barely refrained from the hand fanning. “Yes,” she agreed, fervently wishing she didn’t. “He is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

“Just lookin’ at ’im made me forget how to breathe. Stunned me speechless, he did.”

“Yes, I know exactly what you mean. Although you seemed your normal outspoken self to me.”

“Oh, sure, to that fancy bloke but not to
him
.” She breathed the last word with a reverence Alex had never heard from her before. “And speakin’ of that fancy bloke—” Emma’s word cut off, and her eyes widened. “Why, it’s him ye’ve been speakin’ about right along.”

Alex blinked, nonplussed. Clearly she and Emma had been talking at cross-purposes. As there was no point in denying Emma’s assertion, she nodded. “But his footman is indeed handsome,” she added, although, God help her, she’d barely noticed him.

A slight movement of the curtain room divider caught Alex’s attention, and she turned. And caught a glimpse
of a dirty face before it disappeared behind the curtain. “Come in here, Robbie,” she said.

Several seconds past, then the child shuffled forward. After he stopped in front of Alex, he said in a rush, “That were the bloke I told ye about. The one wot were here before.”

“Yes, I know. I spoke to him about it. He’ll not come uninvited again. I take it you heard everything?”

He nodded, looking up at her with eyes that reflected both suspicion and unmistakable hurt. “Ye should have told me ye were in danger, Miss Alex. I’d’ve protected ye.”

Alex’s heart contracted, and she crouched down, setting her hands on the boy’s narrow shoulders. “I know. And a fine job you’d do. But I can’t risk that someone might hurt you or Emma or any of the others. I need you to look out for each other, and for Emma, too. Can you do that for me?”

He frowned, then jerked his head in a nod. “Ye were gonna leave without sayin’ good-bye,” he said in an accusatory tone.

“Robbie, I’m not
leaving
, I’m simply going to stay in another part of London for a short time.”

“The place where that rich bloke lives,” he said, his voice filled with a bitterness at odds with the trembling of his chin. “Ye’ll take a fancy to the good life and for-git all ’bout us.”

Dear God, this child cleaved right through her heart. Cupping his small, dirty face between her hands, she said, “I could never forget you. Or Emma. Or the others. I think about all of you
all the time
. You’re always here”—she laid one hand across her heart—“inside me. Part of me. I’ll only be gone a short time. When I come back, we’ll share an entire plate of biscuits—just you, me, and Emma—and I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

He drew a shaky breath, then launched himself into her arms, his thin arms encircling her neck. Alex hugged him tightly, savoring the sensation, for he didn’t often allow hugs. He pulled away seconds later, and she let him go.

Chucking him lightly under the chin, she said, “Now take your orange and off with you.”

He dashed to the table, where the extra oranges were stacked, and grabbed the top one. Then he walked to the door and opened it. After a final look over his shoulder, he waved, then left.

After the door closed behind him, she and Emma exchanged a look. “I’ll look after him, Alex.”

“I know.”

“About this Lord Sutton…he came here before today?”

“Yes.”

“So he knows ye’re not married.” Emma’s gaze turned troubled. “I saw the way he looked at ye, Alex. Like ye were a tasty morsel and he were a starvin’ man.”

She should have been appalled. Instead, her heart leapt with excitement.

“Ye know that a man like him would only take ye, then leave ye. Probably with his brat in yer belly.”

“A man like him?”

Emma made an exasperated sound. “A fancy toff. Only after his own pleasures. Mark my words, he’s used to gettin’ what he wants, no matter the cost to others, and he wants
you
.”

“I agree that many people in Society are like that, but there’s more to him. So much more.” She drew a deep breath, then asked, “What if I told you that I want him, too?”

Emma frowned, clearly considering. Finally, she said, “Ye know yer heart’ll get broke.”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, I guess ye’d just have to decide if ye think it’d be worth the pain ye’d suffer after he tosses ye aside like yesterday’s trash. ’Cause ye know that’s wot he’ll do.”

Alex nodded, inwardly wincing at the reality. “Yes. I know.”

“Fer me, I’d be terrified of a fancy bloke like that. Strange birds those rich toffs are. But if his footman were to so much as crook his finger at me, can’t say as I’d be able to resist. Or want to. And since he works at a fancy house, he’d no doubt toss me aside like yesterday’s trash, too—and I’m guessin’ it’d be worth the heartbreak.” Emma squeezed her hand. “Ye do what ye think is best—for
you
. Ye know I’ll love ye no matter what. And will help ye pick up the pieces after he’s gone.”

A wave of love, strong and fierce, crashed over her, and she hugged Emma. “Thank you. Now, about what I wanted to tell you…” She quickly gave her friend the direction of the Wexhall town house, telling her about Dr. Oliver’s desire to purchase oranges for his wife. “Come tomorrow. If you bring the knapsack for Jack, I’ll deliver it.”

“I’ll be there. With lots o’ oranges. And don’t ye worry about Jack. I can take care o’ his delivery ’til ye come home.”

Unable to keep still, Alex began to pace. “But I’m leaving you with all the baking, the children, and what about your reading and writing lessons?”

“They’ll all still be here waitin’ when ye return. The only thing I want ye thinkin’ about is yer safety.” Then her eyes twinkled. “And maybe a way fer me to meet up with yer fancy bloke’s footman.”

In spite of her heavy heart, Alex smiled. “I’ll see what I can arrange.”

Two hours later, Alex found herself standing in a bedchamber at the Wexhall town house, in the likes of which she’d never imagined sleeping. Dr. Oliver’s beautiful wife, Lady Victoria, who was as gracious as she was stunning, had escorted her to the chamber more than a quarter hour ago, leaving after telling Alex that dinner was served at eight.

But since the moment she’d left Alex alone, all she’d been able to do was gape. Lady Victoria had called the beautiful bedchamber “the garden room,” and with good reason. The green color scheme, accented with a thick grass-colored carpet, its border intertwined with leaves and colorful flowers, made it appear as if she stood in a blooming meadow.

Walking slowly around the perimeter of the room, Alex ran her fingertips over the textured silk-covered walls, which were a shade paler than the carpet and admired the groupings of gilt-framed paintings of flowers. An extravagant bouquet of pale pink roses nestled in a crystal vase set on the bedside table filled the air with a delicate floral scent.

Her gaze fell upon the beautiful bed, and her feet moved toward it, as if in a trance. The bed looked so large and so incredibly soft and inviting, like a green satin cloud, that she couldn’t resist trailing her hand over the beautiful counterpane and elaborate tasseled pillows. She found herself peeking over her shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that any second someone would burst in and order her from this heavenly room.

She slowly sat on the edge of the mattress, then took an experimental bounce. A quick laugh filled with jubilant wonder she couldn’t contain burst from her lips at the delightful sensation. After another guilty peek to
make certain she wasn’t about to be evicted, she lay down, carefully, so as not to rumple the counterpane.

Her eyes slid closed on a long sigh of pleasure as she sank into the softness. Surely this was what fluffy clouds felt like. Never in her entire life had she rested upon anything so comfortable.

How many times had she dreamed of sleeping on such a bed, in such a room? More than she could count. Every one of those miserable nights she’d spent huddled in doorways or hiding behind piles of garbage, suffering through rain and cold and oppressive heat, although in truth she’d actually welcomed the summer to ward off the cold that never seemed to fully seep from her bones. Sometimes she’d slept inside, but those rooms were invariably dark, dirty, and foul-smelling places where she’d clustered with others like her. When she’d finally stolen enough money to afford to put a solid, albeit somewhat leaky roof over her head, it had been a day she’d never forget.

Realizing it was best to get up before she decided she never wanted to rise, she left the comfort of the bed and walked to the French windows along the back wall, through which ribbons of golden sunshine slanted. She noted with delight that the windows opened to a balcony. She stepped outside, smiling when the breeze ruffled her hair, and looked down at the small garden below, surrounded by a stone wall and tall, perfectly manicured hedges, unable to fully grasp that she was actually a guest here. Not the hired help paid to entertain the partygoers, but a guest.

God help her, she wasn’t certain if she were more excited or intimidated. For the several hours’ duration of the Society soirees at which Madame worked, she was able, with an effort, not to gawk at her luxurious surroundings. But this…being a guest in this fine home where everyone possessed impeccable manners…would
she be able to behave in a way that wouldn’t shame her? Wouldn’t give away her disreputable past? After so many years of carefully observing and listening to the Quality, absorbing their speech patterns and mannerisms like a sponge, she’d been confident enough to take her card-reading talent and adopt her Madame Larchmont persona. She’d been determined to stop stealing, to cease trying to make something of herself by taking things that belonged to others. Perhaps the rich people she stole from didn’t deserve all their fine things and their money, but the fact that she stole them, in her mind, made her just as undeserving.

But no matter how accomplished her acting abilities, or the fact that she no longer picked pockets, she wasn’t one of them. Wasn’t a lady. Never would be. And now, standing amid all this elegance, she felt as incongruous as Colin had looked earlier in her rooms. This stay in this fine home with its servants and plentiful food and elegant belongings was merely temporary. And she needed to remember that.

Just as she needed to remember that nothing save heartache would result from allowing herself further personal involvement with Colin. Kissing him again, while incredibly tempting, was a temptation she simply had to resist. There was no room for her in his life and she needed to forget her impossible attraction to him. For her own peace of mind. A liaison with him risked her reputation, which in turn risked everything she’d worked so hard for. A few hours of pleasure were not worth the risk.