Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (32 page)

Two nights after Lord Wexhall’s memorable
party, Alex sat across from Colin in his elegant carriage, trying to gauge his mood. He’d been acting strangely ever since she’d awakened early yesterday morning to be greeted by the sight of his pale, whisker-shadowed face and a hellfire of pain burning in her shoulder. Memory had rushed back and, after assuring her that Robbie was unharmed, he’d explained everything. When he’d finished, she glanced around her guest bedchamber at the Wexhall town house, and asked, “How did I get back here?”

“I carried you. Nathan wanted you close by, so he could keep an eye on you, and given our…situation I thought it best you not spend the night at my town house.”

“Of course,” she’d murmured, trying very hard not to feel hurt and failing miserably, which was ridiculous. Their affair was over. And with the murders solved, there was nothing left for them to discuss. Still, his absence hurt her. Nathan, Lady Victoria, Lord Wexhall, even Robbie and Emma had visited her—more than
once—but not Colin. When she’d casually asked Nathan about him while he changed her dressing, he’d just vaguely murmured, “He’s busy.”

Yes, now that there was no longer any threat hanging over him or a lover to distract him, he was no doubt figuring out whom to marry.
Which is the way it should be
, her inner voice reminded her.
The way it
must
be
. But that didn’t make the razor-sharp pain any less eviscerating.

Logan Jennsen had personally delivered a magnificent arrangement of red roses earlier today. He hadn’t stayed long, but before departing had said, “It’s obvious to me there’s something between you and Sutton. But know that my friendship is unconditional. And that you have a choice.”

His words had touched her, but he was wrong. There was no choice because Colin was not an option. But clearly Logan was. And he was a good man…

But then, at four o’clock this afternoon, the largest bouquet she’d ever seen had been delivered to her, along with a note written in a bold, masculine script:
There’s something I’d like to show you this evening, if you’re feeling up to a short excursion. If so, I’ll see you at eight o’clock. Colin.

She knew she should say no, but she simply couldn’t. Not when she wanted so badly to spend one more evening with him. He’d arrived promptly at eight, and although her bound shoulder ached, the pain was bearable, and she was not only desperate to get out of the house, but insatiably curious as to what he wished to show her. Yet after a few polite comments regarding her health and the weather, he’d lapsed into silence and now stared out the window with his usual unreadable expression.

Several minutes later, the carriage stopped, and when she looked out, her breathing hitched.

“Vauxhall?” she murmured.

He pulled his attention from the window and looked at her. His eyes were serious but frustratingly gave no clue as to his thoughts. “I wanted to show you how beautiful the gardens are at night this time of year. The lanterns, the night-blooming flowers. With the weather so perfect, I thought you might enjoy an evening stroll.”

“A stroll would be lovely.”

Something that looked like relief flashed in his eyes. He helped her alight, very properly, his hand not lingering on hers even a fraction of a second too long, a fact which unreasonably and ridiculously disappointed her. Then, with a courtly gesture, he extended his arm. After she tucked her hand around the crook of his elbow, they entered the pleasure garden.

Hundreds of globe lanterns twinkled in the tall trees, illuminating the moonlit darkness, lending the landscape a fairylike glow. People strolled the paths in couples, families, and groups, laughing, chatting, many heading toward the private booths where the ham was notoriously thin sliced and the wines notoriously splendid.

They walked in silence down the beautiful Grand Walk, lined on both sides by soaring, globe-dotted trees, and Alex’s mind drifted back to all the nights she’d spent here, studying the wealthy patrons, deciding which ones would make the easiest marks. So lost in her thoughts was she, she didn’t realize they’d turned onto a lesser traveled path until Colin said softly, “This has always been my favorite part of the gardens.”

Jerked back to the present, she looked around, and an odd tingle ran through her. This was the exact spot where she’d first seen him.

“Mine as well,” she said before she could stop herself.

He stopped, then turned to face her. “If only this very spot was always warm and safe and filled with golden
sunshine and green meadows blooming with colorful flowers, it could be your perfect place.”

Warm surprise and pleasure suffused her. “You remembered what I said.”

He lightly clasped her hands and heated tingles raced up her arms. “My sweet Alexandra, I recall the very first words you said to me. And the last words as well. And all the words in between.”

“What were the first words?”

His eyes searched hers. “Don’t you remember?”

It’s you
. “My memory is not as good as yours,” she hedged.

“Then you probably don’t recall my first words to you.”

I’m very fond of that watch
. “Do you?”

“Yes.” He released her hands, and she immediately missed their warmth. Instead of resuming their walk, however, he slipped his watch from his waistcoat pocket. Even here, on this more dimly lit path, the fine gold gleamed against his palm. “I’m very fond of that watch,’” he said softly.

Her gaze jerked up to his. And realization slammed into her. Her knees suddenly trembled, and she actually felt the blood drain from her face. “You know,” she said, her shaking voice no more than a whisper. “You
know
. You’ve known all along.”

“Yes. Since the moment I saw you at Lady Malloran’s.” His gaze bored into hers. “Clearly you’ve known all along as well.”

Hot humiliation washed over her, turning her cheeks to fire. She nodded mutely, then a humorless laugh escaped her. “I cannot believe you remembered me. That you recognized me.”

“I never forgot you,” he said, his tone and eyes serious. “Your eyes. Your face. Your words. The way you looked
at me. I spent hours searching for you that night. And every night I was in London after that. Even on this visit, I spent my first two nights in Town here at Vauxhall, roaming the paths, looking for you—a woman whose name I didn’t even know.”

She stared at him, stunned. “Why? Why would you do that?”

Reaching out, he brushed a single fingertip over her cheek. “Did you ever come back here and look for me?”

There was no point in not admitting the truth. “More times than I can count.”

“Then you know why I looked for you. For the same reasons you looked for me. I wanted to see you again. Wanted to know what happened to you. But most of all, I wanted to give you this.” Taking her hand, he pressed his watch into her palm.

She gaped at the exquisite gold timepiece, then raised her gaze to his and shook her head. “I cannot accept this.”

“You can.” He curled her fingers over the gold, which still bore the warmth from his palm. “I want you to have it. The moment I took it from you, I regretted doing so.”

A huff of stunned laughter rose in her throat. “
I
took it from
you
.”

“And I should have let you have it. You needed it far more than I. Please accept it now—as a token of my highest esteem and admiration.”

A humorless sound escaped her. “Esteem? Admiration? For a thief?”

“Esteem and admiration for the fights you’ve fought and won to no longer be a thief. You are…amazing.”

“I’m nothing of the sort.”

“The fact that we are standing here, four years later, and you have risen so far from where you were then, proves you are.” He touched his fingers under her chin.
“Don’t belittle your accomplishments, Alexandra, or the strength and fortitude it required to achieve them. You’ve done so much, for yourself and the children you’re helping. I’m humbled by all you’ve done. And I’m proud to know you.”

Warm, giddy pleasure washed through her at his words. But what he was offering her…“Colin, this watch…it’s too much. I can’t—”

“Alexandra, accept my gift.” His gaze held hers. “Please.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Thank you?” he suggested with a half smile.

“Thank you. I’ll treasure it always.”

“I’m glad. Now, will you satisfy my curiosity about something?”

“If I can.”

“That night, you looked at me as if you knew me. And your words, ‘it’s you.’ What did you mean?”

Clutching his watch in her palm, she said, “For years, a handsome, dark-haired, green-eyed man has figured prominently in my card readings. When I saw you that night, I somehow knew you were the man.”

“Figured prominently in your card readings in what way?”

“That he would play an important role in my future.” She offered him a weak smile. “It appears the cards were once again correct.”

“I certainly hope so.”

She shook her head. “As those readings occurred in the past, our future has already happened. They’ve already proven correct.”

“Oh.” He drew a deep breath, then frowned. “There’s something I must tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve decided upon a wife.”

At his softly spoken words, all the color leaked from
the evening, from the emotional intimacies they’d shared, leaving only drab shades of gray behind. She’d known this day would come, had thought she was prepared, but nothing had readied her for this knee-weakening blow. Pain and desolation, greater than any she’d ever experienced on London’s unforgiving streets, gripped her in a vise. “I…see.”

His gaze searched hers, then he shook his head. “No, I don’t think you do.” He reached out and folded her hands between his. “I knew I cared about you, but it wasn’t until after you ended our affair that I realized how much. And this morning, when I awoke after having spent a long, miserable night without you, wanting you every minute I lay there alone, I realized that I’m going to want you every night. That even if I could spend every minute with you, it still wouldn’t be enough. But I want to try.”

Everything inside her stilled. Her breath. Her heart. Her blood. “What are you saying?”

“That I’ve spent the last four years thinking about you. Wondering about you. I don’t want to wonder anymore. I want to know. Firsthand. Every day. I am insanely, ridiculously in love with you.” To her utter astonishment, he dropped to one knee before her. “Alexandra, will you marry me?”

Colin looked up at her, his heart hammering as if he’d sprinted across England, Vauxhall gravel digging into his knee and waited. Bloody hell, she was staring at him as if he’d sprouted another eyeball. Was that good? It didn’t
seem
particularly promising, but what did he know? He’d never proposed before.

Finally, she cleared her throat. “Have you been drinking?”

Definitely not the response he’d hoped for. “Not a drop.”

She slipped the watch into her pocket, then gently tugged on his hands. “Please get up.”

After he rose, she squeezed his hands, and he detected the sheen of tears in her eyes. “I am touched and stunned by your offer, but you cannot possibly consider marrying a woman like me.”

“A woman like you?”

She made an exasperated sound. “Why are you being deliberately obtuse? You know what I was.”

“Yes. And I know what you are. Kind. Caring. Compassionate. Warm, witty, and intelligent. Everything I’ve ever wanted.”

She shook her head. “You could have any woman you want.”

“So I always thought. Yet it appears that the one I want doesn’t want me.”

“This isn’t about what I want. This is about what I cannot have.”

“Yet I offer myself to you. Me and my title and all my worldly goods.”

Her face paled. “I don’t want your title or your worldly goods,” she said, sounding utterly appalled.

“That is a sentence I’d wager no other woman in England would ever say to me without benefit of a gun pointed at her head. The fact you did, and that I know you mean it, only makes me love you more.”

“B…but what of your responsibility to your title?”

“It is to marry and produce an heir, an obligation I take very seriously. And one I intend to honor. With you.”

“Colin, you are meant for another. For a highborn woman who comes from the same social background as you.”

“There was a time when I would have agreed, but no longer. You may believe yourself below those women,
but I don’t. Your riches are simply of another sort—things that money cannot buy. Character. Integrity. Loyalty. Bravery. I was meant for you, Alexandra. My destiny is
you
.”

She was silent for several seconds, then said, “Colin, I lived selfishly for years, taking things that didn’t belong to me—”

“In order to survive.”

“While that’s true, it doesn’t change the selfishness of the act. I can’t go back to that—to thinking only of me. Your life is in Cornwall. Mine is here. I have responsibilities here. To Emma, Robbie, and the other children. I’ve made a commitment to them. To myself. I can’t just abandon those things.”

He raised their entwined hands and rested them against his chest. “I’ve thought about that, and I believe I have a solution. I was thinking we could spend half the year in Cornwall, then half here. We could use Willow Pond as a training ground of sorts for the children you wish to help—get them away from London and teach them practical skills. How to work in the stables, how to cook, that sort of thing. Prepare them to lead productive lives. Robbie certainly seemed to enjoy his visit there. Perhaps during the months we’re in Cornwall, where you’d enjoy the sea, Emma could see to things at Willow Pond.”

She appeared stunned. “You would do that?”

“I would do
anything
for you.” He leaned forward and touched his forehead to hers. “For years I’ve felt useless and unnecessary. You, your cause, make me feel needed. I have the resources to help you. I
want
to help you. Let me.”

She leaned back, her eyes filled with hope and confusion and trepidation. “But what about your family? Your father? Surely he’d be appalled at your not choosing a peer’s daughter to marry.”