Heartbreak and Honor (22 page)

Did Alexa ride? Astride maybe, but sidesaddle? No, he’d bet Prinny’s tubby toes she didn’t, and knowing her, she wouldn’t want to learn, though she’d been eager to learn to drive a team.

The weather had conspired against him, and he couldn’t use his landau with its convertible top anymore, though ensconced in a carriage with her at his side didn’t cause the usual phobic reaction.

Lucan rehearsed, again, how he intended to propose to Alexa today. Yes, she’d refused him each previous time, but last evening as he brooded before a crackling fire in his study, pondering her reluctance, an epiphany rocked him.

Prepared this time with a ring in his pocket—straight from the jeweler’s, as a matter of fact—and armed with what Bretheridge and Warrick assured him women wanted to hear, he intended to finally win her consent.

Over the past weeks, his fascination and admiration—and yes, his lust—evolved into the most intense, confusing, wholly mind-altering emotion he’d ever experienced.

Love. He loved Alexa.

Loved her enough to appoint a proxy to vote for him in Parliament and bustle her to the country if she despised living in Town. Devil it, after Mother died, they’d move to Scotland if Alexa couldn’t abide Chattsworth Park House.

Another surprise awaited her too, which was why he decided they’d forgo their usual jaunt through Hyde Park—too bitterly cold to toddle about outdoors today, in any event. Frost covered the ground, and the boldest streak of sunlight couldn’t penetrate the dense cloud cover. Still, the oppressive elements couldn’t damper his jovial mood.

A half past seven this morning, pounding at the door had interrupted Lucan’s morning coffee.

Darley brought welcome news.

Bellary had saved Lucan the inconvenience of ruining Renishaw by putting a lead ball in the cawker at dawn. As Bretheridge had predicted, Bellary grew impatient waiting for his monies, and had challenged the viscount to a duel.

In typical cowardly fashion, Renishaw fired early, nicking Bellary’s shoulder. Bellary’s aim hit home and dropped Renishaw in his tracks. Now Lucan would never know if the viscount was responsible for the factory fire.

Nevertheless, relief for Jeremy and Alexa filled him. The one morsel of empathy he mustered existed for the Dowager Viscountess Renishaw. She’d lost her sons in duels, and with no other children, was at the new heir’s mercy. Lucan prayed the next Viscount Renishaw possessed a modicum of decency his predecessors had lacked.

Whistling, he dashed up the Needhams’ steps, his weighty navy blue greatcoat flapping about his ankles. The door swung open before he lifted the knocker.

“Good morning, Lucan,” Alexa fairly chirped.

The door frame swallowed her petite form as she stood inside, grinning. Bundled in a scarlet coat trimmed in ermine, her hair was tucked into a matching hat, except for a few silky, ebony curls at her temples. That adorable beauty mark beside her plump lips taunted, daring him to press his lips against the enticing speck.

Eyes sparkling, she shoved a hand into a fur muff. Had she watched for him at the window?

The knowledge further ignited the warmth in his heart. Despite her adamant refusals to marry him, she anticipated their excursions as much as he.

“Good morning, Kitten. Are you ready?” He perused the empty entry. “Is Bindy accompanying us again today?”

“No, she has a fierce cold, poor dear.” Alexa looped her reticule onto her wrist. “Jules is coming instead. He’ll ride above with the driver, else you two long shanks will knock knees the entire time.”

Not the most appropriate of places for proper chaperonage. No matter. Lucan’s house lay but a half dozen blocks away. “I have a surprise for you. Two, actually.”

Tossing him a saucy smile, she slipped past. “Oh? What kind of a surprise?”

She clambered into the carriage.

The footman exchanged a bemused look with him, and Lucan notched a shoulder. “She’s an independent little thing, isn’t she?”

“Indeed, sir, she is.” Jules grinned as he shut the door behind Lucan.

Once settled, Lucan draped a thick lap robe across their knees. “Renishaw died in a duel this morning.”

Poorly done. You might have warned her instead of blurting the news.

Fidgeting with her reticule’s satin straps, Alexa remained silent for an extended moment. “I cannot rejoice in his death, for I know it grieves his family, but I’m grateful he won’t harass me any longer.”

Her inflection, and the disconcerted glint in her eye, revealed Renishaw’s death shook her, despite him having been her nemesis.

The dismal skies outside dimmed the carriage’s interior. “We don’t usually have such severe frost this early.”

“Aren’t we beyond discussing the weather, Your Grace?” Shivering, Alexa laughed, the sultry, tantalizing sound driving him mad with lustful musings.

God, he loved her laugh. Loved to make her smile and giggle, and adored the impish glint in her lilac eyes. Lucan chuckled and took her gloved hand in his. “Way beyond, and we’re also far beyond the ‘Your Grace’ silliness too.”

She stared at their entwined fingers for a moment before burrowing closer to his side. “I’m leaving London.”

Chapter 25

“Leaving? For how long?”

Lucan’s heart skipped a beat, or perhaps the carriage lurching forward as they left the curb launched the organ to his throat. He’d gulped twice before managing to form a coherent sound.

Alexa slid him an unreadable glance, the gold shards in her eyes glittering. “Forever, Lucan.”

Her face blurred, and he blinked away stinging moisture.

She might as well have ripped his heart from his chest and pitched it underneath the horses’ tramping hooves. Tiny black spots wavered before his eyes, and a cold sweat engulfed him as the carriage’s sides shuddered and gradually closed in, suffocating him.

Breathe.

You’re fine.

Look at Alexa.

He forced his gaze to her eyes and gulped air into his lungs. “Why?”

He’d waited too long to tell her he loved her.

Her bowed mouth bent downward, she rested her head against his shoulder as if she couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Because, you will never seriously seek a wife as long as I remain here, and I cannot marry you. I’ve been selfish these past days.” She wiggled the fingers he held encased in his hand. “I am being selfish even now, but it’s unfair to you. The longer I stay, the less time you have to find a bride and honor your promise to your mother.”

Lucan grasped her chin, gently turning her face to his. He searched her eyes. Shadowed with turmoil, they appeared almost black. “I want no other, will wed no other, even if it means breaking my word. Even if it means my title passes to my wastrel cousin.”

Something between a sigh and a sob escaped her, and she raised torment-laden eyes to his. “Oh, Lucan. You cannot make such a sacrifice.”

“Of course I can. I shall, if it means you’ll marry me.” He would. In a blink. He couldn’t contemplate enduring the remainder of his days without seeing her, or worse yet, seeing her occasionally and knowing she’d never be his.

She angled her head away and presented her profile. “If I thought I could make you proud, perform the duties of a duchess with a modicum of success, I’d be sorely tempted. Though, if I’m honest, Lucan, the notion terrifies me. I’d commit gaffs and
faux pas
, bring ridicule and shame upon you and the duchy.”

“I do not care. Run naked through Almack’s Assembly Rooms or turn cartwheels and expose your stockings at Vauxhall Gardens. I shall do both with you.” Lucan kissed the top of her head, the ermine tickling his nose.

“Preposterous. Imagine what Lady Jersey or Countess
Esterházy
would say.” She gave a watery chuckle before her countenance became grave once more.

“You need to be serious, Lucan. We both know you and your friends’ influence contributed to my acceptance these past weeks. Even then, the reception has been scant more than stilted politeness to my face and disparaging me behind my back.”

“Fine, we shall shun the lot.” He swept his hand in the air. “Bugger them all. You never have to host or attend a single event. We shall retire to the country, change our names and the color of our hair, don masquerade masks when we go out—”

She jabbed his side with her pointed elbow. “Will you stop blathering and listen to reason, please?”

“Must I?” Had she eaten berries this morning, or were her lips rosy from the cold? He’d like to taste them to find out.

“Lucan!” Frustration radiated from her.

He exhaled and forced his attention away from the bewitching mole taunting him. “Say your piece, my lady.”

“You must maintain a presence in the House of Lords in order to help those less fortunate than you. You said so yourself. Those born into privilege have a responsibility to help others.”

He lifted her hand and touched it to his mouth. Pressing his lips to her knuckles for an extended moment, he breathed in her refreshing, heather scent. “I know you will lose your inheritance if you don’t marry a Scot, but have you forgotten, my little gypsy, I have Scots blood?”

Alexa whipped her head up, cracking his chin soundly. “How did you learn about that?”

“Ouch.” He grabbed his jaw. “Your uncle told me.”

“Yes, I had forgotten.” Gaze contemplative, Alexa nibbled her lower lip and rubbed the top of her head.

He almost heard the cogs in her brain clacking and grinding as they revolved round and round.

“Mr. Ponsby didn’t say how much Scottish blood my husband needed, only that he has to be Scots.” She squinted at him intently.

Ought to have donned a kilt and tam o’shanter.

Bare arsed in this weather? His ballocks shriveled to prune-sized, like the fruit he’d eaten for breakfast, didn’t appeal.

Alexa poked his arm. “You can prove your lineage?”

Was she considering accepting? Lucan pretended to be put upon. “I suppose, if I must. I can dig through the family archives and find the connection.”

Pages and pages of musty documents. It might take days.

Weeks.

He snapped his fingers. “Or better yet, we shall call on Grandaunt Kathryn. She’ll know. That woman doesn’t forget a thing.”

Alexa clasped his hand tighter. “You must think me horridly mercenary for caring about the inheritance. I don’t want the money for myself, but for the black tinkers and other impoverished Scots.”

“I think no such thing. The law affords women little power or independence, and as my wife, you’d be stepping into a foreign realm. Having your own funds surely must bring you a degree of security and peace.” He brushed her jawline with a bent finger. “Rest assured, I would see you provided your own monies to do with what you will.”

Slumping against the squabs, she shut her eyes, her thick midnight lashes fanning her ivory cheeks. “I’m afraid I’d disappoint you, that in time you’d come to begrudge me. Regret marrying me.”

She spoke softly, and he strained to hear her above the horses’ clopping hooves, the creaking carriage, and the wheels clattering upon the cobblestones.

“Never.” In one deft movement, he lifted her onto his lap.

A tiny squeal escaped Alexa as her eyelids sprang open, and she clutched his shoulders. She twisted to look beyond either window. “Put me down. Someone will see.”

He waggled his eyebrows and gave her a wolfish grin. “Would that make you marry me?”

“No, you dolt.” Her upturned lips belied her name-calling.

Holding her securely around the waist, Lucan hastily lowered both window coverings. “There, now no one can see a thing.”

“And when we emerge with the windows covered?” She gestured at the shades. “No one will speculate as to what transpired inside the carriage? Rumors will abound that we coupled like springtime rabbits throughout Berkley Square.”

He mentally measured the seat. After they married, he might try to persuade her to do exactly that. He might even wear a kilt for the occasion. An avalanche of lust ripped through him. Thank God, Alexa’s thick redingote and his weighty greatcoat hid his giddy member’s reaction.

“Well, I hope by then we shall be betrothed.” He shifted her to reach inside his coat. He withdrew the jewelry box.

Her delicate brows rose as she eyed the petite cube dubiously before lifting her wary gaze. “What have you done?”

Not exactly ecstatic.

“Open it.” He set the violet velvet box atop her lap then set about removing her left glove. “I had it designed for you.”

Alexa tilted the lid and gasped. “A thistle ring? Is this an amethyst?” Emotion clogged her voice. “It’s my favorite stone. How did you know?”

Lucan nodded as he plucked the ring from its nest. “It’s the same shade as your eyes, and it’s set in gold, because you have gold flecks around your irises.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to say, Lucan.”

“Say, yes. You’ll marry me, and together, we shall help the travellers, cock a snook at the upper ten thousand, and live happily ever after like sweethearts in a fairytale.” He slipped the band onto her finger. “I love you, Alexa.”

A tear trickled from one eye as she gazed at him in wide-eyed wonder. “You do?”

He wrapped her in his embrace. “Yes, I do, and I shall do whatever it takes to make you love me too.”

Giving him a tremulous smile, she laid her palm against his cheek. “I already do, foolish man. Why do you think I refused to bring dishonor to your title?” Alexa raised herself up and brushed her lips against his. “I know I’m going to regret this someday.”

“No. You won’t.” Lucan nuzzled her ear, and her breath rushed from her on a sigh.

“It makes absolutely no sense.” She nipped his lower lip before her tongue flicked the edge of his mouth.

Where had she learned that trick?

His manhood surged.

“It makes perfect sense, Kitten.”
He skimmed his palm the length of her narrow ribs until he met the fullness of her breast. The plump mound nestled perfectly in his cupped hand. Another errant tremor pulsed in his groin.

“We don’t suit.” She twined her arms around his neck, her breathing soft, wispy pants.

“We suit perfectly.” Lucan grazed her mouth, returning again and again for little tastes of their sweetness and to tease the mole gracing her lower lip, which had driven him mad for weeks.

“See, we cannot even agree in this.”

He rubbed his thumb across her breast’s tip, and she arched into his hand, another sultry moan escaping her.

“Oh, but we do agree in
this
.” He captured her mouth in a searing kiss, born of weeks of restraint, unprofessed love, and adoration.

No reticent miss, Alexa met his onslaught, their tongues tangling and dueling, raising his passion to a dangerous degree outside the privacy of a bedchamber.

Caught in sensation, it took Lucan a moment to realize the carriage had shuddered to a stop and rocked as the driver and footman alighted.

“We’ve arrived.” He shifted Alexa onto the seat beside him.

Cheeks flushed and lips glowing, she hastily straightened her skirts as he put a respectable distance between them.

“Arrived? Where?”

The door swung open, and she eased forward to peer outside.

“My house. Remember, I have a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?” She peeked at him as she accepted Jules’s hand and exited the carriage.

“Thister!”