Edith Layton (6 page)

Alexandria Gascoyne, pretty, charming, and kind as she was, could be nothing else to him anyway. She had neither birth or wealth. Nothing but that lovely face, figure, and personality. That might be enough for her to make her way in the world, but not his world. A schoolmaster’s daughter, she might be a suitable wife for some other schoolmaster, a clerk, or maybe even some member of the middle gentry. But not for him, he thought hastily. She was too far beneath him in class to be a wife, too middle class for the role of his mistress. She was respectable, after all.

But still, he thought idly, it
could
be said that she was a scholar’s daughter. That was no shame. It wasn’t as though she was a maidservant, a tavern wench, a seamstress, or an ignorant farm girl…He thought of his father’s reaction and killed that train of thought. He
liked Alexandria, he was definitely attracted to her, but he was, after all, not a boy, not a fool, and certainly not in love—which as dangerous as it might have been for him, was really too bad, he thought sadly.

He changed his line of thought. “With lots of cream, please,” he said suddenly.

She’d been sitting, digesting what he’d said, waiting for him to go on. Now she startled and looked her question at him.

“You did say scones?” he asked. “So that must be what I smell now, right?”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “It’s my new perfume. You know what they say about us country girls, using vanilla for scent? I tried butter.” She waited for his appreciative grin, then added, “Don’t worry, I’ll just go get your scones now.”

“I’ll try to confound the doctor and be alive by the time you get back…but you’d better hurry.”

He lay back after she’d gone. So. He’d live. He felt better than he’d expected, much sooner too. He’d been wounded before and knew the way of it. He’d been lucky. Recuperation would be swift, and now, it seemed, amusing too. He only had to find out who had shot at him and make sure it never happened again. He’d do it, then leave as soon as reinforcements got here to make that easier. He closed his eyes, content.

He was lying absolutely still when Alexandria, bearing another laden tea tray, returned. His head was back, his elegant nose pointed at the ceiling. She couldn’t see him breathing. She was so startled her hands shook. She put the tray down carefully, signaled to a startled Mrs. Tooke, and then the pair of them crept closer to his bed, not knowing they were holding their own
breaths. They bent and stared. He was breathing, lightly, slowly, and evenly, sleeping soundly. Alexandria shared a relieved look with Mrs. Tooke.

“Gads,” he drawled, his eyes still closed, “a fellow can’t shut an eye around here without worrying about getting a lily planted on his chest. And here I was hoping for a tea tray instead.”

“My lord,” Mrs. Tooke said, ducking a quick curtsey, “we were just concerned.”

“Well, so am I,” he said with a smile, opening his eyes. “Are those wonderful scones for me?”

Alexandria was annoyed that he’d made a May game of her terror. “Mrs. Tooke, this is Lord Drummond,” she said stonily. “My lord, this is Mrs. Tooke. She’s the good neighbor who has come to stay with us so that
you
can stay on here without worrying that I’m going to have to bring a vicar, not just tea, when I enter your—
my
bedchamber.”

“Alexandria!” Mrs. Tooke gasped.

Drum laughed. “Don’t worry, my dear lady. I richly deserved that. But the more important question is if I deserve some cakes too? I’ve been very good, you know. Haven’t stirred from this place since they laid me here. I did try, but my hostess had three strong men hold me down, she was that anxious to keep me in her bed.”

Alexandria held her tongue as Mrs. Tooke handed him a napkin, poured tea for him, filled a plate with cakes and cream and placed it at his elbow. He sighed.

“A lady who knows how to treat a man,” he said with pleasure. “I thank you.”

Mrs. Tooke nodded. “Handsome manners,” she said with approval, “just like your father. You have the look of him too.”

Drum had a cake halfway to his lips. He paused and looked up at her. “You know him?”

“I knew him,” she said, “once upon a time, when we were all young.” She saw his surprise and added, “I grew up not far from his estate. Our fathers were friends. Mine was Lord Usborne.”

Alexandria turned and stared. There was a second of silence even her glib guest couldn’t fill. She’d thought Mrs. Tooke was going to say she’d been a nearby squire’s daughter. She was
that
well born? Even Alexandria had heard of Lord Usborne, a political-minded fellow and a viscount! Mrs. Tooke was a local woman who, just like them, baked, mended, and tended house. She’d told Alexandria that she gardened and kept chickens too. She had fine manners, but no airs. Of course, Alexandria remembered, wasn’t that supposed to be the very hallmark of a lady? But still, it was a shocking surprise.

“I knew your father too,” Drum said smoothly. “And know your brother. He’s made some improvements at the hall.”

“Indeed?” Mrs. Tooke said, her face showing nothing but polite inquiry. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been back. The family was unhappy with my marriage, and so we haven’t seen each other since. That was many years ago.”

“Surely not that many?” Drum said with a show of great surprise. “Unless you married from the cradle?”

“
Very
like your father,” she said, and they both laughed.

Alexandria listened as her guests chatted easily, talking about this name and that person. Mrs. Tooke had obviously made a misalliance, and her family
scorned her because of it. The Earl of Drummond did not. Or, if he did, no one would ever know it. What a lady Mrs. Tooke was, Alexandria thought with growing respect. What a gentleman the earl was. It was all amusing, jolly, cordial. Alexandria was impressed.

So. He isn’t such a bad fellow, after all,
she thought. Only arrogant because of his life of privilege. She supposed he couldn’t help it. But he was more than charming, he was thoughtful of other’s feelings and had a lively sense of humor. That was lovely. He appreciated nonsense. She appreciated the way he looked at her too. It made her feel like a woman. That was rare too.

But she was too wise to put the least bit of importance to it. Mrs. Tooke’s cheeks had gone rosy and her eyes sparkled as she chatted with him, so it was obvious he made her feel the same way. Alexandria lived a quiet life with few diversions and had never met an earl or a London gentleman. But even she knew men such as the Earl of Drummond were not thick on the ground anywhere.

He was all personality, grace, and style. His looks could be considered unfortunate until he opened those forget-me-not eyes and that glib mouth of his, when he became well-nigh irresistible. Urbane, witty, smooth, and clever—and about as sincere as the spring breeze that flirted in the window and toyed with the little hairs at the back of her neck.

Just so! she thought, watching him charm Mrs. Tooke to bits. Light, pleasant, and fleeting, those were bywords she’d better remember. They’d be the words she’d always remember when it came to this particular exotic wounded creature the boys had brought her. She’d care for him and enjoy his company while she
did. The boys would have a good example of manhood to copy too. Six weeks could be a lifetime—a bitter one—if he’d been a boor. As it was, she looked forward to the days ahead.

In time, she’d let him go with the same mixture of emotions she always felt when she returned any healed creature to the wild. She’d feel relief, tinged with a little sorrow.

And that, she told herself, would be that. She was prudent. She had a good education and no illusions. She was ineligible for marriage, at least, ineligible as a wife to any man she might consider having for a husband. Mr. Gascoyne had been the last one to tell her so, and she’d fled all the way to Bath to prove him wrong—only to discover he’d been right. She knew a thing or two or three, she thought bitterly, and she’d be even wiser to remember them in her dealings with this charming nobleman.

She and this elegant earl were just as different from each other as the robins and rabbits she’d sheltered were from herself. Very different species. And if for a moment she regretted that, that was nothing new either.

T
HE DAY HAD BEEN A RARE AND BALMY ONE, BUT
now Alexandria, her little family, and Mrs. Tooke huddled around the kitchen hearth for warmth. It was spring, after all, and spring in England often forgot what it was. Tonight April thought it was November, and a cold wet wind cut around the edges of the little cottage and drove rain against the window-panes. Vic and Kit sat on the hearthstone, Rob on the rug in front of the fire. Mrs. Tooke had been given the rocking chair and Alexandria sat at the table, reading to them. It was a cozy scene, soon interrupted.

A sudden sound made Alexandria stop midsentence.

“Only the wind,” Rob protested. “Go on! Read that bit again.”

“No,” Alexandria said, cocking her head to the side. “The wind doesn’t shout ‘Excuse me.’ Rob, nip upstairs and see what his lordship wants. I don’t think he’s in any distress,” she told Mrs. Tooke, who’d half
risen from her chair. “We just saw him two minutes ago.”

“Maybe he wants another cup of tea,” Mrs. Tooke said, looking concerned.

“Any more tea and the man will wash out of his bed,” Alexandria said with a frown. “I don’t understand. He was a paragon of courage when he was in excruciating pain. Today the doctor said he was doing splendidly. In fact, he ate every scrap of his dinner and had an extra serving. But tonight he’s had us get him a dozen things.”

“It’s the way men are,” Mrs. Tooke said with a laugh. “They get peevish when they’re on the road to recovery.”

“Not us,” Kit said. “Ally, do go on.”

“Wait for Rob, or we’ll never hear the end of it,” Vic said.

Rob hurried back down the steps. “He wants to talk to you, Ally. Go on up and come down quickly.”

Alexandria put down her book, and went up the stair. She went in the half open door and looked around the bedchamber. Nothing seemed wrong. Her patient lay propped on pillows on her feather tick, covered by the best quilts in the house. A good fire bloomed in the hearth, lamps adding their own mellow light. The windows were securely shuttered, the room was comfortably warm. Her guest had a table near his elbow that held a pitcher of water, medicines to take if he felt pain, and books he said would interest him.

She looked at Drum. He wore a slightly embarrassed expression. “What is it?” she asked. “Are you in any pain? Do you need anything? I thought you were settled for the night.”

“So I was,” he said, and let out a long breath. “I—I hear your voices,” he said.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Did we disturb you? The boys get carried away sometimes, and we forget. I’ll hush them so you can sleep.” She turned to go, closing the door behind her.

“No!” he cried quickly.

She turned around and stared at him. “That’s just it,” he said, a little desperately. “I don’t want to sleep. If I were home now, I’d be starting out for the night! My dear Miss Gascoyne, you’ve given me everything an invalid could want. The problem is that I’m not used to being an invalid. I hear your voices downstairs, and…” He flashed her a dizzying smile. “I’ll confess. I want to be in on it. You
did
get me settled. The problem is that I think of it as being—planted. Yes. Exactly like being planted, watered, then abandoned and forgotten until summer.”

She put her head to the side. “I’m only reading the boys
The Odyssey,
commenting on it now and then. It helps their studies.”

“I read Greek,” Drum said quickly. “I got marvelous marks in history,” he added hopefully. “You were all in here doing that when you thought I was unconscious. Surely my being awake won’t matter? There’s room for Mrs. Tooke too, isn’t there?”

She smiled. “Surely, there will be.”

A few minutes later, they’d all reassembled in the invalid’s room. Alexandria picked up her book, and on a sudden inspiration—and a belated fear that her Greek wasn’t as perfect as she wished it to be—laid it down again. She looked at Drum. “Would you care to read?” she asked.

“I’d be happy to,” he said, putting out a long slender hand. He took the book, and Alexandria leaned over his shoulder to point to where she’d left off.

Her cheek almost brushed his. He felt the warmth of her, and scented her elusive perfume, his nostrils widening.

She noticed again that his shoulders were really very broad for such a slender man. He smelled of good soap, and his ink-black hair looked so soft she had to restrain a sudden urge to rest her cheek against it.

She straightened up and quickly left his side. He forced himself not to look after her. They were both surprised by how unexpectedly intimate the moment had been, even in the midst of company.

She went to her chair and took up her sewing.

He picked up the book and began to read smoothly.

He hadn’t got a whole page read when Rob muttered, “
Wine
-dark sea? I don’t understand. I thought I knew that word. But how can a sea be the color of wine? A sea is blue, right?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Vic said. “Go on, sir, please.”

“I know what a metaphor is,” Rob said hotly, “and if it is one, it’s a bad one, because water isn’t purple, not by a long shot.”

“Quiet, Rob,” Kit ordered. “You’ve never seen the sea.”

“Well, but I have seen a pond,” Rob protested, “and a brook, and pictures of the sea. I read about the ocean too, and it’s always blue. Or green,” he added fairly, “Maybe even gray. But wine colored? I don’t think so.”

“It can be, at sunset,” Drum said. “Or before a storm. It’s a poetic metaphor, but not that far off. When
the Aegean reflects the sunrise and sunset the waters can be any number of colors.”

“You’ve been to Greece?” Rob breathed.

“Yes,” Drum said, laying the book down. “In fact, I think it would be good if you asked me about it. It might help you understand the poem if you understand what the poet saw when he wrote it.”

“He didn’t. He was blind,” Rob corrected him.

“Rob!” Vin said, as Alexandria sat up and gave Rob a hard look. A boy never corrected an elder, at least not in this house.

Rob knew it too. He turned red, looked down and mumbled, “Pardon me. Please go on, sir.”

“But you’re right,” Drum said. “Homer was blind. That doesn’t mean he didn’t know what the world looked like. A blind man learns from those with sight. He couldn’t describe the sea unless someone told him about it. I’m sure he knew many sailors.”

“Did you, sir?” Rob asked. “I mean, when you were there?”

“Yes, of course,” Drum said. “You can’t see the place just by land. I sailed around a bit too. Let me tell you a little about Greece, how it looks and smells, the food, scenery, the people. Then you’ll understand Ulysses’ voyage better, I think. That’s why my father sent me abroad, to learn more than books could tell me.”

Alexandria bent her head to her mending again. Maybe it was why their fathers sent them, but she knew why young men went abroad, and it wasn’t to better understand
The Odyssey
. Mr. Gascoyne had often ranted about it. He’d rail about the injustice of the
ruling classes having money to waste, sending their randy empty-headed sprouts off for a life of dissipation on the Continent in the guise of higher education. He’d sneer, saying it was educational, all right. Those overly privileged young men returned to England with more depravities than they could ever have imagined on their own.

She lifted her head a few minutes later. It was clear the Earl of Drummond hadn’t wasted his father’s money.

“The hills are stony and steep,” Drum was saying in response to one of the boys’ questions, “but the sea is magnificent, and you can see it from everywhere. It was a natural highway for the ancient Greeks. The world came to them, but they set out to see what the world was about too. They spread civilization as well as picking up more of it. They invented philosophy and drama, and gave the world all forms of art, but—yes, Kit?”

“Art?” Kit asked. “But that was the Romans, surely?”

“Romans perfected it, but the Greeks gave them their foundations,” Drum said.

Alexandria smiled at the spirited discussion that followed. The boys had seen sketches of the famous Elgin Marbles that had been brought to London, and had been monumentally unimpressed by what they decided were dull, broken statues.

“Wonderful works of art can be seen everywhere there,” Drum went on, “a lot intact. But don’t be fooled. They might have been artistic, but the Greeks were merchants to the core. Islanders often are, like us. We gave the world Chaucer, Shakespeare, poets galore. But we also gave them wool and cheese, tin and
coal. That’s why the Romans were so eager to conquer us—not for our bards and poetry. The Ancient Greeks shipped wine and olives. By the way, olive trees are stunted, twisted things. You wonder who was brave enough to taste the first bitter fruit, and who was clever enough to discover that marinating made them delicious.”

“Delicious?”
Rob yipped in disbelief.

“Rob’s right.” Vic laughed. “I tried one once and it twisted up my mouth like an olive tree!”

Alexandria looked up at Mrs. Tooke to exchange a grin with her, but that lady was already looking at her with troubled eyes. Maybe she felt the boys were too forward, Alexandria thought sadly. Maybe they were. But they never let her read any book through at one go, always interrupting with questions. She thought it was a good way to teach. The lofty Earl of Drummond had quickly seen that and encouraged discussion too. Alexandria sighed. There was nothing she could say to placate Mrs. Tooke. Likely she was from an older school, like Mr. Gascoyne, who had made lessons strict and silent. But Alexandria had had her fill of that, which was why she refused to do the same.

Alexandria saw the boys’ rapt expressions as their guest went on telling them about Greece.
Poor lads,
she thought,
it’s just as well they can travel in their minds.
They’d never get farther from home than Bristol if they didn’t join the navy. She’d take care to see that didn’t happen, at least not until they had finished their educations, when they’d more likely be clerks than rovers. Which might be a pity, but she was a realist. Since they had to make their way as best they could, education was their only asset.

“Squid?”
she heard Rob groan, clearly appalled. “They eat octopus and
squids
?”

“You eat winkles and prawns,” Alexandria commented.

“But they’re edible,” Rob protested. “And they don’t have legs.”

“But cows do,” Drum said.

Now Alexandria groaned. “Please don’t remind me! If I’d any courage I’d only eat eggs.”

“It’s not a matter of courage, it’s appetite,” he said. “And there’s nothing wrong with normal healthy appetites.”

It wasn’t the words or even the way he said them. It was the look she saw in his eyes when she glanced up at him. They were sparkling, brimming with mischief. Alexandria’s breath caught. She quickly turned her gaze to her sewing again.
Appetites indeed,
she thought, angry with herself and him, as her pulse slowed again. She’d been thrown off balance by the wicked look that sparkled in his cobalt eyes. He was only flirting; the problem was that she didn’t have the knack of it. She wasn’t used to more than heavy-handed overtures from men in the village, or oily propositions couched as paternal advice offered by Mr. Gascoyne’s old friends.

But flirting was obviously second nature to the earl. The blasted man had flirted when he’d been in terrible pain, she thought irritably. He’d probably flirt on his way to the graveyard.

She couldn’t let it pass, and she couldn’t hide like a mouse. She had to live with the man—and herself—a few weeks more. She lifted her head and met his azure gaze directly, though she didn’t focus her own eyes.
She was brave, not stupid. If she was going to keep her composure she had to avoid seeing more than the intense color of those eyes. “I fail to see how an appetite can stay healthy on a diet of octopuses,” she said loftily.

“Octopi,”
he corrected her gently. “It’s only a matter of taste. And they vary the leggy things with fish and vegetables. Nothing as healthy as our good reliable fry-ups, of course, but they do keep their teeth and complexions longer than most Englishmen do.”

“Then I suppose you’d rather have a squid than bacon tomorrow morning?” she asked sweetly.

“Oh, but I’m not one to complain about appetites!” he said quickly, grinning at her. He opened the book again. “Shall I go on?” he asked.

“Please do,” she said, trying to restrain her delight. It could be a game, after all, so long as she remembered it could only be that. If she did, she had a month of laughter ahead. She expected no more, and whatever went on in the secret places of her heart, wanted no more. Or at least, so she had to keep reminding herself more and more. Not only was it unlikely there could be more for her in this friendship with the earl, but if ever she lost her head or her heart it would be immensely painful.

She knew she interested him. It wasn’t vanity, it was simple arithmetic. He was bored and there were no other women around. She wasn’t a Venus, but though she lived in the country she didn’t live in a clamshell either. She’d interested other men in her time, many of them married or otherwise impossible. He was impossible. She accepted that and knew he did too. He was, after all, a gentleman.

She relaxed, the excitement of the flirtation fading. She sat back and listened to her guest read a story about another lost wayfarer trying to find his way home again.

The cottage was no longer empty during the afternoons; in fact, it was never empty now. Alexandria found that aside from enjoying her exotic guest’s company, she was getting used to the sound of frequent laughter. She’d never realized how lonely her afternoons had been until they weren’t anymore. The boys’ frowzy old mongrel had died the month before and she hadn’t the heart or chance to get a new puppy yet, but old Sport was all the company she had expected during the long afternoons. The earl’s arrival had changed everything.

Mrs. Tooke was no bother. In fact, she was a great help. Having people around all the time again was a welcome novelty for Alexandria. She found herself taking extra care with her appearance every morning, and going to sleep with a smile on her lips every night. She’d given up her bedchamber but had gotten a whole new world in exchange.