Heartbreak and Honor (21 page)

Chapter 24

Standing before her bedchamber window, Alexa fastened the frog at the neck of her redingote before gathering her muff and umbrella. Fog engulfed the garden and intricate frost patterns etched the perimeters of her windows.

Autumn had, at last, descended in full force and appeared intent on remedying her previous temperate weather by skipping straight to soggy and freezing, making this the most frigid November in Londoners’ memories.

The Highlands would be bitterly cold. How did her family fare? Certainly, with a thousand pounds at their disposal, more comfortably than in previous years.

“Hyde Park today again?” Katrina flopped onto her back atop Alexa’s bed.

“Yes. His grace is teaching me to drive, and afterward we’re going to a tea house to warm ourselves.” Alexa smiled faintly. “He’ll have coffee, of course.”

She’d never known anyone who preferred the beverage more.

Katrina rolled onto her stomach, exchanging a pleased— almost smug—look with Seonaid. “’Twould seem the duke is courting my cousin.”

“And most diligently at that,” Seonaid agreed, curled in a chair before the fire, Sir Pugsley fast asleep in her lap.

Alexa laughed and pointed her umbrella in turn at both women.

“Stop it, you two. The duke and I enjoy each other’s company, and he seeks my advice about which damsel he should turn his attention to for a bride. You are welcome to join us and lend your expertise. I’m sure his grace would appreciate it, given he’s made a complete muddle of finding a spouse on his own.”

“Go outside? In that?” Katrina fluttered her fingers above her head in the window’s general vicinity. “I’ll eschew the experience, thank you. I shouldn’t want to take a chill before the ball tonight. Major Domont requested I save a waltz for him.”

A dreamy smile tilting her pink mouth, she released a long sigh.

“Ah, yes, the major. He seems to appear wherever you are. Happenstance, I’m sure.” Alexa winked, and Katrina grinned unabashedly.

At this rate, Katrina would be betrothed well before the Season’s end.

Seonaid had encountered Lord Devaux-Rousset a number of times too. However, their encounters proved far less cordial. When he’d taken a seat beside her at the Featherspoon’s musicale last week, she’d stabbed him a glare fierce enough to singe the feathers from a goose before jumping up, and fists clenched, stomped away muttering, “Insufferable, handsome toad.”

“Isn’t the duke’s time to select a bride running short? Christmastide is but a few weeks away, and the banns need to be read for three Sundays, unless he purchases a special license.” Seonaid’s doe-like eyes regarded Alexa innocently, yet Alexa also detected the merest bit of amusement shining in their russet depths.

“That’s ’cause he’s made his decision already.” Cupping the side of her mouth while slicing an exaggerated look toward Alexa, Katrina said in sotto voce, “Only the lady he’s chosen isn’t cooperating.”

“He most assuredly has not made his decision.” Alexa knew full well what her precocious cousin hinted. “And I am too cooperating. I’m helping him choose a duchess, aren’t I?”

Katrina and Seonaid snorted in unison then burst into gales of laughter, waking Pugsley.

He gave them a drowsy look before closing his eyes and resuming his gentle snores.

Let them have their fun. Alexa was helping Lucan, except
he
wouldn’t cooperate. To date, he’d found some fault or other with every lady Alexa suggested he show an interest in, and he continued to ask her to marry him each time they met, although with a chaperone present, he’d resorted to some creative measures.

Yesterday, he’d slipped a note into her glove when Bindy stopped to pet a dog. The caress of his fingers as he secreted the paper against Alexa’s palm caused all manner of disconcerting thoughts and sensations.

The day before, he’d persuaded her to extend their outing and indulge in a hot chocolate in order to discuss which miss he should dance with at the Bremerton’s ball that night. Tucked away in a corner nook, he used his knife to write
wed me
on his pastry plate.

Wholly incorrigible.

He’d laughed when she wrote
no
in strawberry preserves with her finger, then he had the audacity to lick her fingertip clean.

She’d nearly slithered onto the floor and would have made a cake of herself, if the waiter hadn’t brought fresh scones to their table a moment later.

At her insistence, Lucan danced with eligible damsels at each ball they attended, but as became his habit, he claimed two dances from her, including the supper waltz each time. As a result of his expert tutelage on the dance floor, she’d become passably good at keeping off his toes.

Over the weeks, they’d slipped into a comfortable companionship and become the greatest of friends. Lucan knew more about her life as a gypsy and her concerns about her present situation than Katrina or Seonaid. With him, she talked freely about almost anything.

“Hmm.” Katrina flipped over once more, and hands in the air, spread her fingers. “Three weeks of daily excursions to Hyde Park—even in the rain and sleet. Two theater performances, one opera, a day spent at Bullock’s Museum.” She wiggled four fingers before continuing her catalog. “Four balls, a musicale—”

“Don’t forget dinner here thrice, a visit to Gypsy Hill, two card parties, and several heather bouquets,” Seonaid said with a saucy wink.

Has it been really been that many
?

Alexa shook her gloved finger at them. “Hush, you two. I’ve told you before, nothing can come of it, and honestly, I do not want to be a duchess. I’ve tolerated the public excursions because of your presence and his. In case you hadn’t noticed,
la beau monde
hasn’t exactly embraced me.”

With Lucan at her side, she’d met the
ton’s
scorn head on. True to his word, his friends rallied around her and buffered her from the worst of the
ton’s
reproof, yet snubs and rebuffs continued out of his view.

Although grateful for their support, she’d determined the time to depart was nigh. Within a fortnight, she’d leave London and wouldn’t return. “Have you forgotten I’m planning to leave, as soon as my funds are transferred?”

Her monies hadn’t been deposited yet, something to do with auditing the trust transactions for the past two decades having taken longer than Mr. Ponsby anticipated. He’d discovered Harrison and Minerva had accumulated a formidable amount of debt and his ailing partner had allowed them to borrow against Shona’s trust. It appeared they’d tampered with hers as well.

Irritation raised sharp little claws and scratched a path of annoyance along Alexa’s nerves upon learning that disagreeable news. Given Harrison’s seedy character, the revelation didn’t astound her.

“Well,” Katrina drew circle-eights atop the counterpane, “you haven’t managed to dissuade the duke from pursuing you with your protestations, have you?”

Big mistake, telling her pert cousin that tidbit.

Katrina slid Alexa a sly glance before grabbing a pillow and stuffing it beneath her head. “Do you think he’ll ask you to marry him
again
today?”

Undoubtedly.

Which was one reason Alexa had decided to leave. Lucan wouldn’t seriously seek a wife with her about, which meant breaking his word to his mother. Not something a man of his caliber took lightly.

The other motivation to move ahead with her life had resulted from Shona unexpectedly receiving the Lord of Parliament title the day before yesterday.

Calling her to his study, Uncle Hugo gently informed Alexa of the committee’s decision. Although unexpected, and the ruling had incensed her aunt and uncle, Alexa’s initial reaction was profound relief.

Except for when their paths crossed at social events, she purposely hadn’t sought her stepmother or sister since the day of Mr. Ponsby’s visit. Minerva, nevertheless, persistently tried to see Alexa.

She and Harrison called twice the first week, but after Aunt Bridget’s frosty reception and Alexa’s non-appearance in the drawing room, Minerva resorted to sending Alexa invitations to call almost daily. When those efforts proved unsuccessful, she persuaded Shona to pen a few as well.

Alexa didn’t intend to be unkind or uncongenial, but she dreaded Harrison’s company to such an extent, she avoided the others as well. Truth to tell, after learning her father worried about their safety, Alexa didn’t trust Minerva either.

Perhaps the letter from him would clarify his concerns, if she unearthed its whereabouts.

“You’re sure you didn’t spot an unopened letter near the tea tray in the salon the day Mr. Ponsby came? Steafan wrote it to me and neither Auntie nor Uncle has seen it. I saw the solicitor lay it on the table, but as you know, I left the room in quite a dither and forgot about it until the next day.”

“No,” Katrina shook her head, “but things were chaotic when Shona and I entered. Perhaps a servant misplaced it. Have you asked the housekeeper or butler?”

“Yes, both, and I searched the room myself, including beneath the cushions and settees.”

Alexa closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the salon. Harrison sat at that end of the settee. Had the cur pocketed the note? Alexa wouldn’t put it past him.

Before she returned to Scotland to seek her father, purchase a modest cottage, and attempt to set a new course for her life, she intended to bid Shona farewell and wish her success in her new position. The life of a peeress suited Shona better. She’d do well as Lady Atterberry, and hopefully, she’d attract the interest of more suitable beaux than Renishaw and make a proper match.

The dreaded visit to confront Harrison about the letter must be scheduled. Alexa would drag Aunt Bridget or Katrina with her to ask the snake if he’d helped himself to her letter, not that he could form a truthful word with his forked tongue.

After one more meeting with Mr. Ponsby to receive her funds, she would be off. She had to wait until November fifteenth when he returned from Edinburgh, or she would have departed sooner. Each day she spent with Lucan, it became more difficult to contemplate leaving. But depart she must, for both their sakes.

She scrunched her nose. Where did she put her reticule? A person needed an extra hand to tote the paraphernalia a gentlewoman required for an outing.

“Why don’t you want to marry the Duke of Harcourt, Alexa?” Echoing the question the dowager hollered at the theater, Seonaid leaned her chestnut head against the floral damask chair’s high back.

Alexa thought back to that night and wanted to groan. Thank God the orchestra had launched into the overture, preventing Alexa from having to answer Lady Middleton. Nonetheless, she’d been keenly aware of the looks directed in her and Lucan’s way, many speculative, a few envious, plus a passel of outraged scowls.

She met Seonaid’s inquisitive, yet kind, gaze. Alexa might as well share the truth. Seonaid doubtlessly knew it already. Having a friend with the second sight made it devilishly hard to keep secrets.

“The duke needs a refined wife, one who knows how to assume the role of a duchess, not an awkward Highlander who’d rather wade barefoot in streams.”

Within the tedious constraints of propriety—a noblewoman’s tightly laced emotional corset—Alexa would shrivel and die from boredom. “And besides, I cannot be sure his persistence isn’t only because he finds me less objectionable than the other candidates, not from a great desire for me personally. Socially, we’re worlds apart, and I fear, in the end, we’d despise one another, or at the very least, our resentment would lead to avoidance.”

Ah, there’s my reticule.

She scooped the bag from beneath a discarded fichu.

Far worse to have disappointment and disillusionment ferment for years until affection turned to bitter antagonism, or worse, indifference, than to depart with a marginally cracked heart. The latter she might eventually recover from, but the former, well, she’d bear that scar for a lifetime.

“It’s not such a difficult thing to overcome, Alexa. You’re intelligent and can readily learn what is required of a duchess. His grace seems a patient, undemanding man.” Katrina turned onto her side and propped her head with her palm. She pointed at Alexa. “Forgive me, my dear, but in my opinion, it’s a pathetically feeble excuse, and you are not a coward.”

“She’s right, you know. You’re conceding defeat before you’ve tried. I’m rather surprised, given your resilient nature.” An indirect challenge tinged Seonaid’s words.

“What about love?” Alexa rested her hip against her dressing table and toyed with a silver-overlaid perfume bottle. She searched their faces before returning to fidget with the bottle. “Your parents love each other, and my Scottish parents do, too. Would you marry someone who needs to procure a wife in a rush to satisfy a vow, but who doesn’t love you?”

Rounded, solemn gazes and grave silence met her question.

“I thought not.” She replaced the bottle atop the table. “I don’t wish to either, even if his reasons are honorable and unselfish.”

Katrina sat up, concern replacing her giddiness. She cast Seonaid a desperate look. “Alexa, I hoped . . . What I mean to say is, I thought by you marrying his grace some of the sting from . . .”

Seonaid cocked her head, her eyes warm with empathy. “What are your plans now that Shona is Lady Atterberry?”

Lucan patted his pocket as he descended from his coach in front of the Needhams’ manor and inhaled a calming breath. Another couple of weeks and Achilles ought to be fully mended. Silly, how much he missed his horse.