Nicola Cornick (29 page)

James looked at her downbent head thoughtfully. ‘I’ve been watching you this evening, Alicia,’ he said gently. ‘There’s something troubling you, isn’t there?’

Taken aback by his perception, Alicia prevaricated. ‘Something wrong? Whatever can you mean, my lord?’

She saw a shadow of a smile touch his mouth. ‘Why, simply what I say. I hope you will not think me arrogant if I say that I know you well enough to tell when something is worrying you. But I have no wish to pry.’

Alicia immediately felt ashamed. She made a slight gesture. ‘I’m
sorry,’ she said contritely. ‘I know I sounded ungracious. You are right, of course, but I did not realise that it showed.’

‘Only to me, perhaps. I will stand your friend, if you wish to confide in someone.’

Alicia looked at him. In the shadowy darkness her eyes seemed huge and troubled, almost luminously green in her heart-shaped face. Once again she was completely trapped by her feelings for him. The impulse to trust him and tell him the truth was terribly powerful.

She had wanted to confide in him, and here he was offering her that chance.

They walked on slowly in silence. There were other couples loitering beneath the palm trees and flirting in the alcoves. Water splashed into an ornate lily pond where lazy goldfish flashed a fin. It was no place for confidences, being too well-populated.

‘I would like to tell you,’ Alicia said at last, a little hesitantly, ‘but we must step outside, I think, to avoid being overheard.’

James gave her a questioning look. ‘That would not be very prudent, perhaps, given your previous wish that we both observe the conventions!’

He had a point and Alicia was forced to admit it. To stroll in the hothouse was unexceptionable, since other couples were doing precisely that, but to step outside would be pushing the bounds of acceptability. She could hardly insist on certain rules one day, then persist in breaking them herself the next. But then, he did not yet realise the gravity of her problem and therefore could not appreciate that the Staplefords’ conservatory was hardly the place to discuss murder.

‘I can vouch for my own good behaviour,’ Alicia said, without a smile. ‘Can you do the same, my lord?’

It was a provocative question and James gave her a searching look. The heat had gone from his eyes, but there was still a tension in his manner as though he held himself on a very tight rein. ‘No, not really! If there is something you wish to discuss it would be safer for you to do it here!’

Alicia sighed. She seemed to have no choice. She waited until they were close to the terrace doors, then said, in a clear, quiet voice quite devoid of feeling, ‘Very well, I shall tell you here, then. I believe my cousin Josiah to have been murdered.’

Whatever James had been expecting, it was not that. Alicia, still holding his arm, felt the shock go through him like lightning. Without another word he steered them both through the doors and out onto the
terrace, letting go of her when they reached the balustrade. The air was fresh and chill after the warmth of the house and the sky was very clear. Alicia took off her mask and swung it from her hands by the ribbons.

James was leaning on the balustrade, looking out across a line of cypresses which disappeared into the dark gardens. Eventually he said, in the same quiet tones she herself had used, ‘Whatever can have led you to make such a deduction?’

Reaction was now getting to Alicia. She wrapped her arms around herself for warmth. ‘Fordyce tells me that Josiah called to see me whilst I was away in Somerset. He wanted to warn me about something but he was too drunk to be coherent. Fordyce put him out of the house, but I think he regretted it later, for he said Josiah was in terror of his life.’ She shivered in the cold air. ‘And then Josiah died. Am I at fault in thinking it more than a coincidence?’

James straightened up and turned to look at her, still preserving an irreproachable distance between them. In the moonlight his expression was remote, impenetrable. He put back the hood of his domino with an impatient gesture and took off his mask.

‘Perhaps not,’ he said noncommittally. ‘And what have you done to discover the truth, Alicia? Knowing you, it would be impossible to believe that you have let matters lie!’

Alicia prickled with resentment.

‘I could not just ignore it!’ she answered hotly. ‘Leaving aside the matter of Josiah’s death, there was a letter he wrote me, and a mysterious cousin who does not exist!’

She saw James raise his eyebrows in faint exasperation. ‘All the ingredients of a gothic romance!’ he commented dryly. ‘You had better tell me the whole, I think!’

Alicia leant on the balustrade, relating the whole story from the moment Fordyce had told her of Josiah’s visit to the current state of Frederick’s investigations. It was a huge relief to share her suspicions with someone, even if she did suspect James was likely to tell her that her imagination was running away with her.

‘We seem to have reached a full stop,’ she said regretfully, at the end of her recital, ‘and to have made no progress. I am at a loss as to what to do next.’

‘Not to meddle any further would seem a sensible course of action,’ James said sharply.

‘But I cannot just let it go,’ Alicia burst out.

James took a step nearer to her without appearing to notice. ‘I was
not suggesting it. As you are determined to pursue this, I am offering to put investigations in motion at Bow Street for you.’

Alicia hesitated. James asked, with the smile back in his voice, ‘What is it? Do you not trust me? Or have you perhaps changed your mind?’

Alicia shook her head. ‘No, I have not changed my mind. And it is a relief to me that you do not dismiss my concerns out of hand! But—are you sure, sir? You are under no obligation to help me.’

‘The offer still stands.’

‘Very well, then. I accept with gratitude, my lord.’

There was a silence between them. Alicia turned to go back inside, oddly at a loss as to what she should say now. As she took a step towards the doorway, James caught her hand.

‘Just a moment, my lady. We have been out here some considerable time. You know what people will think?’

Alicia paused. She could no longer see his expression, for the moon had dipped behind the cypresses, leaving them in darkness. She felt almost empty with the relief of sharing her problem, and too tired to care about anything else.

‘Let them think what they will. It’s better than the truth!’

‘That’s so, of course.’ She could hear the smile in his voice, though she could not see him clearly. ‘But you look, if you will forgive me, like someone who has just been discussing murder, rather than someone who has just been thoroughly kissed in the starlight. It would be preferable for the Staplefords’ guests to be certain of the latter, not the former!’

He pulled her towards him and Alicia’s free hand came up hard against his chest. The hood of her domino slipped back so that her hair spilled out, its colour muted by the dark. She caught her breath.

‘My lord, I thought we had agreed…You should not—’

James just laughed. ‘No, I should not. But I did warn you, and you should know by now that in this at least you cannot trust me!’

‘Yes, but I scarce supposed—’

Alicia’s words were cut off as his mouth captured hers. Afterwards, all she could remember was the strength of his arms holding her hard against him, and the brilliant, dizzying darkness of the kiss as their desire spiralled up to engulf them.

It could have been five minutes or several hours later that James lifted his mouth from hers, holding her at arm’s length, scanning her face. He was breathing as hard as she as he gave a shaken laugh.

‘Well, no one is going to have any doubts now! Go inside, Alicia, before I forget all my good resolutions and kiss you again!’

Alicia paused. She felt cold now that he had let her go, and almost dizzy with longing. ‘I think I shall go home now,’ she said, a little uncertainly. ‘I have no taste for the masquerade.’

James’s face was still and shadowed. He did not answer her. His hands fell to his sides and he stepped back punctiliously to let her pass. Suddenly, inexplicably, there was a tension between them. Still Alicia hesitated on the threshold of committing herself.

‘Will you accompany me, Lord Mullineaux?’ she asked softly. ‘I find I do not wish to be alone.’

James shifted slightly. His voice was once more his own—cool, remote and a little hard. ‘Are you sure that that is what you really want, Lady Carberry? You might prefer to reconsider. Seeking out my sole company is hardly wise.’

Alicia put her hand on his arm and felt the tautness in him. ‘Please,’ she urged, very quietly. ‘Don’t leave me now!’

There was a very long silence. James’s expression was unreadable.

‘Then,’ he said, very deliberately, ‘you must go back into the ballroom and take your leave. It would not do for us to return together, so I shall join you in your carriage shortly.’

Alicia gave him a hesitant backward glance as she went in through the French doors. He was watching her with the same cool, remote expression in his eyes and somehow it chilled her. But it was too late now. She had made her decision and the die was cast.

J
ames did not touch her at all in the carriage on the way back to Upper Grosvenor Street, nor did he speak. Alicia would have been happier if he had. She sat opposite him in the dark, watching in the faint lamplight the stern set of his face, his expression distant, almost severe. It daunted her. This was not as she had imagined it would be.

Alicia was half-appalled, half-exhilarated at what she was doing. It might have been the intoxication of the wine or the moonlight which had actually brought her to this point, but she knew deep down that it was what she wanted. She had been faced with the growing conviction that she would rather be with James on any terms than face the prospect of losing him. Whilst it was not in her nature to give herself easily, she loved him too much to want to live without him. She would settle for whatever he was prepared to give.

She stole another look at James, very aware of him in the enclosed space of the carriage. He had removed the black domino and the immaculate but severe cut of his evening clothes only served to enhance his physique, doing nothing to detract from his devastating good looks. His black hair was artfully dishevelled in the windswept style and there was an expression in his eyes which made him look, Alicia thought, the complete answer to any maiden’s prayer and the epitome of a chaperon’s warning.

For a moment her heart skipped a beat out of sheer nervousness. It’s not too late to change your mind, a voice whispered inside her head. She drew on all the courage she could muster. She had thought about this, carefully considered her options. The thought of losing him to some dewy-eyed debutante or experienced flirt was not to be borne.
Besides, she might as well be honest. She wanted James, longed for his touch in a way quite alien to her previous experience. She could not draw back now,
would
not!

It was late and Fordyce had dismissed the servants in the expectation that Alicia would have stayed at Stansfield House for the night after the masquerade. Dawson, the night porter, was dozing at his post and woke with a start as the carriage drew up and its occupants descended. His eyebrows shot up into his hairline as he recognised the Marquis of Mullineaux with Alicia. He struggled upright, and desperately tried to regain a suitably bland expression.

‘Madam! We did not expect—Do you wish me to wake the servants?’

‘No, thank you, Dawson.’ Alicia sounded far more composed than she felt. ‘We do not require anything further tonight.’

Once again, Dawson, who had far less aplomb than Fordyce, fought to keep his amazement from showing on his face. ‘Yes, my lady,’ he said respectfully, and watched them cross the hall to the drawing-room. The door closed behind them with a firm click and Dawson stared at its panels in complete disbelief. He even pinched himself to check that he was awake. He was.

Alicia was finding this far more difficult than she had anticipated. She had not really thought beyond the point of making her wishes clear to James. Now she was not sure what she had expected to happen next, but whatever impassioned and ardent scene should have followed it was very different from reality.

James had taken the drink she had offered and was now standing moodily before the fire, his arm resting along the mantelpiece.

‘Before we take matters any further,’ he said quietly, ‘may I be permitted to know why you have chosen this course of action? It seems somewhat out of character. Are you sure you know what you are doing?’

That was the last straw for Alicia. This clinical analysis of her behaviour was so far from her romantic dreams as to be a travesty.

‘I thought that you were supposed to know how to manage these things,’ she replied childishly. ‘That’s why I chose you!’

It wasn’t true, but the words, born of disappointment and frustration, were out before she could bite her lip. James put his glass down on the mantelpiece with what seemed like exaggerated care and crossed to her with an intentness which belied his previous air of indolence. He leant on the arms of Alicia’s chair so that she was pinned back and forced to crane her neck to look up at him.

‘So now we come to the truth of it,’ he said, very softly but with an edge to his words which frightened her. ‘I did not believe you would go through with this, but it seems I misjudged you! A few weeks ago you were accusing
me
of a want of propriety, yet now I am to help you over the temporary inconvenience of your virginity, if I understand you correctly!’

Alicia winced at his words and the hot colour flooded her face. In all her calculations it had not occurred to her that he would react like this. She had assumed that were she to make her feelings clear he would take control of the situation. He had declined to play her game—worse, he had spoken with a cool calculation which only proved that he had no desire for her. Humiliated, she realised that she had misread the circumstances completely. True, James had indulged in a certain amount of flirtation with her, but it had not meant anything to him. And why should it, with the opulent charms of Lady Dawe all too obviously at his disposal? So she had made a complete fool of herself.

‘You mistake me; I did not mean that—’ she began desperately, concerned now only to retreat and cope with her embarrassment in private.

But James was not prepared to let it go so easily. She looked so young and vulnerable in the shadowed candlelight that it made her behaviour seem all the more outrageous. James tried to concentrate on her relative youth, her naïveté, her inexperience, but all his wayward mind seemed capable of presenting him with was a series of images which had nothing to do with innocence and everything to do with the deep, turbulent emotions which ran between the two of them. With his anger fanned to white heat by his own imagination, he cut her off ruthlessly.

‘You did not mean what, precisely? To propose me as your first conquest in a career as a demi-rep?’ He straightened up, still looming over her threateningly. ‘Perhaps I misunderstood! Perhaps you intended only to become
my
mistress rather than to throw yourself open to the public? Thank you, but I prefer to do the asking myself!’

Since this had been precisely what Alicia had intended, her mortification now knew no bounds. She did not understand that James’s anger sprang more from the temptation of her offer rather than its lack of appeal. And her pride was now seriously injured. How dared he humiliate her like this? She jumped to her feet.

‘How very hypocritical you can be, Lord Mullineaux!’ she said fu
riously. ‘So the rules are different for you, are they, and for the likes of Lady Dawe? What blatant double standards!’

James clenched his fists with frustration. His mouth was a hard, angry line, but still he strove for self-control. ‘My dear child, can you not see that respectable ladies simply do not behave in such a manner? Lady Corinna Dawe is the sort of woman whose behaviour should be as far removed from your own as…as the Prince Regent, and even you are not so naïve as to require an explanation of that!’

Alicia looked like an angry kitten, he thought dispassionately, all wide-eyed fury and sharp little claws. He almost expected her to stamp her foot.

‘How dare you be so patronising, sir?’ she stormed. ‘I am a widow of twenty-six, not some immature child of eighteen! It is not for you to legislate for my behaviour! I have the right to act as I choose!’

James lost his temper finally and comprehensively. ‘You have just proved your lack of understanding by your very words,’ he said scathingly. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about! God damn it, this isn’t some parlour game you can play and expect not to get hurt! What if half Society does behave as you describe? That is not for you!’

Alicia recoiled, her face stony, though her eyes were bright with unshed tears.

‘Enough! You have said quite enough, sir! I understand you perfectly! But do not think that you have the right to dictate my conduct!’ The sting was all too apparent beneath the sweetness of her next words. ‘Though I may not appeal to you, I am sure that there will be others more…amenable…to my suggestions! I bid you goodnight!’

For a moment, James did not move. Alicia was standing between him and the door, so she was now perfectly able to see the almost murderous look of fury on his face as he started towards her. Her heart gave a sudden jolt as she realised that her bitter comment, meant only to salve her pride, had overstepped the mark by a long way.

James had given up the unequal struggle for self-control. Alicia’s words had conjured up a vivid picture of her locked in Christopher Westwood’s arms, or, worse still, Patrick Wickford’s—he would not be so scrupulous in his treatment of her, at pains to protect the innocence which James had recognised and tried to preserve from both his own and Alicia’s reckless actions. He took another step towards her.

Alicia quailed before his rage, instinctively taking a step back as he came closer to her. She recognised that her words had unleashed something elemental in him, something she could not control. Expecting him
at first to walk straight past her and out of the house, Alicia was gripped by an unreasoning panic as he drew nearer. She backed away until she felt the door panels digging into her back and half turned in a desperate attempt to wrench the door open. But it was too late. James was already beside her, reaching past her to turn the key in the lock with a finality which both terrified and, at the same time, excited her.

‘I’ve changed my mind,’ he said roughly.

He was not gentle with her, but then, Alicia acknowledged numbly, she had pushed him beyond restraint through her foolish provocation. Suddenly it was a little too late to admit that she understood exactly what he meant about not playing games which were too deep for her.

His mouth took hers without tenderness, showing only an urgent desire which demanded satisfaction. It was shocking to Alicia to feel the immediate and perfidious response within her as her body recognised and welcomed his touch, even as her mind struggled to assimilate what was happening. She put her hands up to his chest, intending to push him away, but the thought was already lost in the clamour of her senses and instead she simply pulled him closer, sliding her arms about his neck.

The ribbon restraining Alicia’s curls was coming loose and James put out an impatient hand to tug it free, spilling her hair around them in a rich auburn cloud. His mouth returned to hers with a ruthless intensity which incited feelings Alicia had never dreamed of. She would have fallen had he not held her, so completely was she at the mercy of her emotions. She felt his fingers trace a path of fire across her skin, easing the dress from her shoulders with a touch that was very sure. The low-cut bodice slid down to her waist, but before Alicia’s shocked mind could even register the thought properly James’s lips followed the path of his hands, brushing tantalisingly over the curve of her exposed breast until it closed over the sensitised tip, making her gasp aloud with pleasure. Alicia arched against him, conscious only for the need to be closer still, to appease the deep ache within her with his body on hers.

She had no recollection of how she came to be lying on the chaise longue, only that she was leaning back on the cushions, watching with languorous pleasure as James hurriedly divested himself of his jacket and pulled off his neckcloth. He crossed swiftly back to her side, and she offered her mouth to his with a total lack of shamelessness. Their kisses became wilder, as though they wished to devour each other, his tongue plundering the sweetness of her mouth. Alicia’s head fell back
as his lips traced the delicate line of her throat and took possession of her breasts again, teasing first one nipple and then the other with his circling tongue.

Her fingers dealt impatiently with the buttons of his shirt so that she could slip her hands inside, against his chest, pulling his nakedness against hers. She heard him groan and then his hand was pushing up her skirts so that they foamed about her hips and he could slide his hand up her silken stocking to the soft skin at the top of her thigh. Alicia gasped his name, digging her fingernails into his back in an agony of sensuous delight. She could feel his fingers parting her thighs and was within an inch of giving herself up completely to the searing pleasure which she knew was waiting for her, when suddenly James let her go, so violently that she almost tumbled to the floor.

Alicia caught her breath painfully, blinded by the swirl of her hair, bewildered, disorientated and deeply disappointed. Gradually, reality intruded. She was in her own drawing-room with the servants within call, and James, who had until a moment ago been making love to her to the exclusion of all other thought, was now shrugging himself back into his jacket, swearing most fluently under his breath. She had no idea what had gone wrong, but she instinctively straightened her bodice and smoothed down her crumpled skirts with hands that shook. Why had he stopped? He must have known that she had wanted him to take her there and then…

A moment’s bewildered thought, and she rather imagined that she understood what James had done. No doubt he had set out to teach her a lesson and he had succeeded all too well, for she would remember this humiliation for as long as she lived! First, she had had the unutterable folly to try to seduce him, then she had responded to his calculated lovemaking with a total abandonment which made her burn with mortification at the recollection. And it must all have meant nothing to him, nothing at all. Her breath caught on a sob and she almost fled the room, remembering at the last minute that James had pocketed the key. Instead, she took refuge behind the huge desk she used for her business transactions, desperately hoping that her trembling legs would not disgrace her by giving way completely.