Stroke of Midnight (15 page)

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Authors: Olivia Drake

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BOOK: Stroke of Midnight
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She felt unaccountably deflated. It felt too early to retire for the night. The balls and parties would be just now beginning. She’d half expected Alex to seize this opportunity to bewitch her as he had in the carriage a few nights ago.

If truth be told, she’d
wanted
him to do so. Not for the purposes of romance, of course, but because questions swirled in her head, questions that needed answering.

Well! Let him go, then. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of chasing after him like a desperate debutante.

Laura snatched up a folded blanket from the chest at the foot of the bed. As she leaned down to prepare a place for the dog to sleep inside the carrier basket, she automatically lifted a hand to her face, for her spectacles often slipped down her nose whenever she bent over.

But they weren’t there. Oh, drat. She had forgotten them on the dining table.

Then it occurred to her that she now had the perfect excuse to go back downstairs. If she happened to encounter Alex on his way out, so much the better.

Without further ado, Laura darted out into the corridor and quickly descended the stairs. She could hear voices somewhere far below—or perhaps it was just the pulse beat in her ears. The dining chamber was located on the first floor with the reception rooms. The candles in the wall sconces already had been blown out by the servants, leaving the central hall cloaked in eerie shadows.

Since the spectacles weren’t her primary purpose, she didn’t turn toward the dining chamber. A soft yellow glow emanated from inside, along with the clink of cutlery and china. The two footmen must be clearing the table; theirs would be the voices she’d heard.

Laura flew to the balcony overlooking the front entrance. Her fingers curling around the carved mahogany rail, she peered down into the gloomy darkness of the lower hall.

Her eyes widened on a murky figure standing directly beneath her. Even as the name
Alex
formed on her tongue, she blinked in unhappy comprehension. It was only the suit of armor on display.

Her heart sank. He was gone. She’d missed him, after all.

How foolish to feel so disappointed. She had wanted to talk to him in private. Not to invite his kisses, though. No. She’d wanted to milk him for information. To solve the wretched mystery of her father’s death.

With a sigh, Laura resigned herself to going back upstairs for a solitary evening of reading by candlelight. Her interrogation of him would have to wait for another time. She turned around—then stopped dead in her tracks.

The tall black shape of a man loomed directly behind her. She gasped. In the next instant, the shadowy features of his face registered on her beleaguered brain. “Alex!”

 

Chapter 14

Laura looked adorably flustered in the pale light that spilled from the dining room. One hand had flown to her bosom in a classic pose of surprise. Her wide eyes shone like pieces of the evening sky.

Alex wondered if she even realized that she’d spoken his first name. Ten years had passed since he’d last heard those beautiful lips utter it. Ten years of wondering where she had gone. Though he had managed to put her out of his mind, there had been occasions when something had sparked a memory. A glimpse of tawny-gold hair. A lady’s merry laugh. A drab servant in his aunt’s garden.

That last time hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. Fate—with the help of Lady Milford—had given him a second chance. Now he had only to find a way to keep Laura.

In a deliberately seductive undertone, he said, “Looking for me?”

“No! I … merely forgot my spectacles. On the table.”

“But you didn’t go into the dining chamber. You went straight to the railing and looked down into the entrance hall.”

She elevated her chin. “I thought I heard someone talking as I came downstairs. I wondered who it was.”

“I see.”

But he didn’t see. Had she come in search of him or not? Alex wanted to think she had. Hell, he wanted to believe that she intended to lure him into one of these darkened rooms, strip off that prim high-necked gown, and invite him to have his way with her.

He’d have better luck wagering that the Blue Moon diamond would drop from the sky.

Laura Falkner was like a skittish mare, and it would take patience and persuasion to tame her. His attempt to kiss her in the carriage had met with only fleeting success. Then she had rebuffed him in no uncertain terms.

You didn’t listen when I begged you not to take my father away. You didn’t care if you hurt me. And you refused to trust me when I vouched for Papa’s character.

She’d had a decade to nurse those grievances. He wouldn’t overcome them in one night. He would wear her down by inches, slowly reignite her passion until it burned away her resistance.

“There’s something we should—” he began.

“I’ve a matter to discuss—” she said.

They both stopped abruptly to stare at each other. He waved his hand in concession. “Ladies first.”

She parted her lips, then pinched them closed as if reconsidering her words. Adopting a formal tone, she said, “Since you’re still here, my lord, I’d like to speak with you on a private matter. If you aren’t in a rush to depart, that is.”

“Not at all. I’ll fetch a candle. We can talk in the drawing room.”

A genuine grin sprang to his lips as he made haste into the dining chamber. One footman still lingered there, removing the linens from the long table. “You may go now,” Alex told him. “I’ll extinguish the candles and let myself out.”

The white-wigged servant bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

Alex seized the heavy silver candelabrum with its three guttering tapers. A droplet of hot wax fell onto the back of his hand but he paid no heed. He half feared Laura would be gone when he came back out. But she was still in the staircase hall, her arms crossed beneath her bosom, walking back and forth as if lost in thought.

He noted a slight wobble to her steps as she turned around. She had drunk quite a lot of wine tonight. If she was a trifle tipsy, then so much the better. He had no qualms about exploiting such a breach in her defenses. It would take every ounce of his persuasive powers to overcome her scruples against him.

Alex led the way into the darkened drawing room, wending a path through the maze of furniture. Whatever weighed on her mind must be important, because she seemed to have forgotten about the spectacles. They were tucked in an inside pocket of his coat, where they’d stay for the moment. When he’d noticed upstairs that she was missing the eyeglasses, he’d come down to fetch them as an excuse to win her favor.

Circumstances had worked out even better than he’d hoped. There was nothing like an intimate tête-à-tête to appeal to a woman’s heart.

With that purpose in mind, he proceeded to a corner where they wouldn’t be readily visible from the open doorway. Moving aside several figurines, he made room for the candelabrum on a piecrust table. Then he caught Laura’s arm and guided her to a diminutive, gold-striped chaise with just enough room for two. “Shall we sit?”

She took a step toward it, gave him a sharp glance, and seated herself in the gilt chair positioned perpendicular to the chaise. He almost smiled. She was no fool, his Laura.

A sense of possessiveness firmed his resolve. Yes, she
was
his, though she did not yet accept that. They belonged to each other. And this time, he had no intention of letting her go.

He settled back on the chaise to watch her. In the golden glow of the candles, she sat with her spine erect and her hands folded in her lap. How prim she looked in the lace cap and high-necked gray gown. No longer the carefree debutante she had once been, Laura had locked her passionate spirit behind a spinsterish facade. But he knew it was there, just waiting to be freed.

She regarded him coolly. “You must be curious as to why I asked you for an audience.”

“If I’ve committed some offense today, pray forgive me. It was not intentional.”

“Offense?” A frown flitted across her smooth brow. “No, you were most kind. You made Lady Josephine very happy.”

“That was my intention.”
And to please you, too.

“Well, the puppy did make her birthday very special. I’m only sorry I didn’t give her a gift myself.”

“Praise God you did not. My aunt already has enough trinkets to fill every house in Mayfair.”

Laura laughed, and he basked in the sound. Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult, after all. But her amusement lasted only the briefest of moments. Then she lowered her lashes slightly, her eyes taking on a secretive aspect.

“Well,” she said in a detached tone, “it’s late and I don’t wish to keep you too long, my lord. I hope you’ll be good enough to provide me with some information. I recently heard a rumor that my father left considerable debts. Is that true?”

The blunt question caught him off guard. “Who told you that? I doubt my aunt knew anything of it.”

“My source doesn’t matter. Just do me the honor of providing an honest answer.”

Alex ran his fingers through his hair. The firm expression on her delicate features demanded candor on a topic guaranteed to doom any hope of romance this evening. Blast Martin Falkner for never informing her of the dire state of his finances. “All right, then, yes. If you must know, he did have debts.”

“How much?”

“Several thousand pounds.”

Those expressive blue eyes widened. “Did you know this when you found the stolen earrings in his desk?”

“I’d heard something about it, though I wasn’t aware of the precise amount until later.”

The Duchess of Knowles had told him that, along with additional information that Laura would never learn if Alex had any say in the matter. Those other damning facts had been relayed to him in confidence. He could speak of the debts, but not the rest; he was honor-bound to obey the vow of silence he’d made to his godmother.

“There was an auction,” Laura said, her gaze intent on him. “All of our belongings were sold, Papa’s library of books, the sterling silver, the carriage and horses, the furniture”—her voice caught—“and even my mother’s jewelry, I’m sure.”

Alex didn’t like to see the hint of distress in her expression. Once, long ago, Laura had spoken wistfully of the mother she’d never known. “I’m afraid everything was sold,” he confirmed.

“Then surely there was more than enough to pay off the debts?”

“Correct. You’ve no worries in that respect.”

She released a shaky sigh and briefly closed her eyes. Then she studied him again. “Were there any funds left over that I could claim—somehow?”

Wishing he could evade the question, Alex glanced away at the shadowy room with its black lumps of furniture. He would sooner cut out his tongue than cause her more pain. But better she hear the news from him than some malicious scandalmonger.

He leaned forward, wishing he dared to take her into his arms to soften the blow. Gentling his tone, he said, “Laura, you should know that your father was tried and convicted in absentia by a judge and jury. Any remaining proceeds from the auction were given to the Duchess of Knowles in compensation for her loss of the Blue Moon diamond.”

Her knuckles turning white, Laura gripped the arms of her chair. “What? As if that rich old biddy needs a ha’penny of Papa’s money! Just how much is that wretched diamond worth, anyway?”

“It was assessed at thirty thousand pounds.”

“Thirty thousand!” Laura gave a bitter, disbelieving laugh. “I can only imagine if Her Grace knew I was back here in London, she’d have me tossed into debtors’ prison until I paid off the rest!”

Alex covered her slim hand with his. Her fingers trembled slightly—or perhaps they merely convulsed around the chair arm. “No one will demand anything of you, Laura. I promise you that. You cannot be held responsible for your father’s crime.”

The very moment he uttered the words, Alex knew it was the wrong thing to say. He should have been more circumspect. She had a daughter’s steadfast belief in her father’s impeccable character.

Unlike Alex, she hadn’t grown up with the constant reminder that one’s parents could be flawed beyond redemption.

She flung away his hand and surged to her feet, pacing to the perimeter of the candlelight and then whirling back to confront him. “My father is innocent. But I don’t suppose that matters to those who are determined to condemn him.”

Alex stood up, too, prompted as much by gentlemanly manners as the need to assuage her anger. And to convince her to face the truth.

Stepping closer, he placed his hands on her shoulders and used his thumbs to tip up her chin. “You knew him far better than I,” he conceded. “Yet the threat of ruin can tempt a man to do acts that go against his moral fiber. And you can’t deny that the earrings
were
in his desk.”

She gazed at him with haunted eyes. “But
not
the diamond necklace. The police surely must have looked for it before our house was sold. They never found it.”

Unbeknownst to her, Alex had searched alongside the police. He had spent the better part of a week going over the town house with a fine-tooth comb, looking for a secret hiding place. He had knocked on every inch of paneling, checked every stone and floorboard for any sign of looseness. He had scoured each room from the attics down to the cellar. Then he had covered the grounds, as well, the gardens and the stable. He had been desperate to find the Blue Moon diamond so that he could prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that he had not been wrong in his accusation. That he had not ruined Laura’s life on a false assumption.

“You’re right,” he said heavily, “the diamond wasn’t found. Not in the house nor in any bank deposit vault in London. It was presumed that your father had taken it with him.”

Laura twisted away from him. “Well, he didn’t. And now the trail is cold because no one bothered to check out other possibilities. It’s too late to trace the person who put those earrings in Papa’s desk.”

“Is it, Laura? Or do you intend to find the perpetrator yourself?”

The slight widening of her eyes proved his surmise to be correct. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

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