Love's Guardian (26 page)
With her eyes closed, Alex stretched, enjoying a rare sense of well-being. She reached beneath her blanket and searched for her sheet. Could she have kicked it to the bottom of the bed? Odd, she was sure there was one last night when she... Her eyes flew open.
What had she done?
She sat up and attempted to search the room, but the bright sunlight momentarily blinded her. When she became accustomed to the light, she saw her sheet crumpled before the fireplace, but the room was empty. Declan was gone. He must have carried her to the bed during the night, then left.
An irrational part of her wished he’d stayed. Doubts flitted at the edge of her consciousness. What was he thinking? Did he regret his offer?
She could almost hear Eleanor telling her this was not the time for regrets. The damage was done, and Alex had to live with the consequences of her actions.
With a sigh, she pushed back the covers and swung her legs around, then put her feet on the cold floor. Eleanor would be right, of course. She’d agreed to this marriage, now she had to make the best of it. The cold seeped up her legs, seeming to invade her soul.
If only she hadn’t fallen in love with him! Declan could give her everything she’d ever wanted, including her freedom, but she’d trade it all to hear him say he loved her.
She angrily brushed her tangled curls away from her face and shoved the heavy mass back with one hand. Hell and damnation, she wasn’t accomplishing anything just sitting here. She got up, strode over to the dressing table, and snatched a comb from the tray. Pain radiated from her scalp as she tugged on her curls.
So Declan hadn’t said he loved her. What difference did that make? She had a lifetime to convince him love could bring great joy. A lifetime of doing what they did last night.
Heat rushed into her face as she gazed in the mirror. Had she changed? No, the reflection was the same, but if she closed her eyes, she could still feel the touch of his hands, his tongue, his body joined with hers. Never had a memory been so vivid.
Without a doubt he’d been with many women, but surely last night was special? Fear, swift and strong, enveloped her. What if last night hadn’t changed anything? She needed to see him, if only to be reassured he wasn’t totally unaffected.
She rushed to her wardrobe and chose a day gown of coral silk. The color gave her complexion a translucent quality. It wouldn’t hurt to look her best when she saw him again.
In the midst of trying to lace her corset, Anna came flying into the room without knocking. “Oh, Lady Lochsdale, I just heard the news. Isn’t it wonderful! You’re going to be my cousin.”
“Who told you?”
“Mama. She and Lord Worthington had a talk this morning. He’s planning an engagement ball for next Saturday.”
Typical Declan, he didn’t wait to consult her. Surprised, she found she didn’t mind. It was rather nice to have someone do things for her.
“Was it terribly romantic?” Anna was practically jumping up and down. “How did he ask you?”
“Actually, he didn’t ask me.”
“No, but I thought...”
“He told me.”
“Oh.” From the look on Anna’s face, she couldn’t seem to decide if that was romantic or not.
“I’ve agreed to the arrangement. At least I’ll be his wife.” She held up her laces. “Would you help me with these? I’d like to get downstairs as soon as possible, and I haven’t a clue where Mary’s gone off to.”
In less than twenty minutes, they were headed down the stairs. At the bottom, she patted the winged lion’s head. Funny, how things could change in just one night.
Yesterday, she’d felt threatened by the carving. Today, she felt as if he was protecting her. Anna’s romantic fancies must be rubbing off.
As they entered the dining room, Alex took a deep breath and tried to organize her jumbled thoughts. She supposed she’d have to answer their questions, but what to say?
Lady Bradford glanced up as they came through the door. “There you are, Lady Lochsdale, I’m so pleased. I spoke with Lord Worthington this morning. Please, sit and have some breakfast.”
She took the chair across from Lady Bradford.
Anna kissed her mother on the cheek and dropped into a chair at the head of the table. She promptly started to fidget with her silverware, all the while glancing at Alex.
Sometimes Anna seemed so much younger, even though they were only separated by two years. She reminded her of a new colt, terribly curious and full of boundless energy.
“I was pleasantly surprised at this turn of events.” Lady Bradford nodded to Williams to serve their breakfast. Once he and the footman departed, she continued. “I thought after last night you were through with my nephew. When did you change your mind?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d find something to read in the library.” Her face grew warm. She didn’t like to lie, but she couldn’t very well admit he’d come to her room. “I spoke with Lord Worthington, and we agreed that marriage to each other would be the best solution to both our problems.”
They didn’t need to know he wanted nothing to do with her after she’d provided him with an heir. God willing, he’d come to care for her before then.
“I see.” Lady Bradford gave her a searching look. “Did you tell him you love him?”
“Yes.”
“And.”
“It didn’t matter.” She glanced down at the eggs and sausages on her plate. Though they’d smelled heavenly a few moments before, she’d lost her appetite.
“My cousin is an ingrate. He doesn’t deserve to marry you.” Anna viciously stabbed at a tomato on her plate. “I wish he was here this very minute.”
She grinned at the mental picture of Anna brandishing her fork at Declan. It was fortunate no one had ever taught Anna to use a weapon. Someone would have gotten hurt.
Lady Bradford shook her head. “I had hoped...” She sighed. “Lord Worthington seemed so changed this morning. He wanted the engagement ball to be held right away. I assumed he’d finally come to terms with his feelings.”
With dignified grace, Lady Bradford rose. “No matter, at least you’ll be his wife, and my niece.” She circled the table, then reached down to give her a hug. “Welcome to the family.” She tipped Alex’s face up, and gave her an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around.”
“He’d better,” Anna muttered as she attacked yet another defenseless piece of food.
Alex smiled at her soon-to-be cousin. Warmth spread through her at the thought of how readily Lady Bradford and Anna had accepted her as part of the family. She wanted to belong. If only Declan could come to love her.
The door opened, and Williams interrupted, “Lady Bradford, you asked me to tell you as soon as it was done.”
“Thank you, Williams.”
With a slight bow, the butler left, and Lady Bradford turned to her. “Lady Lochsdale, I’d like you to see something. Would you come into the parlor?”
She followed Lady Bradford, with Anna bringing up the rear. The massive double doors were closed, but Declan’s aunt swung them open and stepped to the side.
Bright sunlight lit the room. Alex had always thought the furnishings in this part of the house subdued, but now she understood why. Her gaze was drawn immediately to a painting above the fireplace. The woman in the portrait gave the room the vibrancy it lacked.
Declan’s mother.
The resemblance was unmistakable. She’d chosen to be painted in the entranceway of Castelton House, one hand lightly resting on the amber-eyed lion at the foot of the stairs.
Her gown was a deep claret, with flounces on the sleeves and lace at the neck. A bouquet of what appeared to be forget-me-nots trailed from her other hand. The artist gave the impression Declan’s mother was only now coming down the stairs. No rigid poses for her. It was an unconventional portrait of an extraordinary woman. She could almost pity Edward Devereaux.
Lady Bradford’s unsteady voice sounded beside her. “This is why I thought Lord Worthington had changed. I haven’t seen Maura’s portrait in years.”
Anna crossed from the doorway to get a closer look. “This was Aunt Maura? She’s beautiful. You’re right, Mama, Lord Worthington does favor her.”
When she glanced over at Lady Bradford, Alex observed tears threatening to mar the older woman’s powdered cheeks. She searched her pocket and brought out a handkerchief, handing it to the distraught woman.
“Thank you, dear.” Lady Bradford wiped her eyes and looked back at the portrait. “Lord Worthington asked me to have it brought down when I saw him this morning. It was the first time he ...” Lady Bradford turned to look at Alex. “He actually talked to me, asked me about his mother. It wasn’t a long conversation, but it’s a start. I’m not sure how you did it Lady Lochsdale, but I want to thank you.”
A glow started in Alex’s stomach, warming her whole body. So, he’d listened after all. She clung to this slight hope, like a brand burning amongst the ashes. Maybe he could change.
She stared up at the portrait of the free-spirited woman who’d loved with such boundless joy. This is what Declan would have been like if his mother had lived. So many wasted years. Even now, he was a prisoner of the past, unable to move on.
She made a vow to the woman in the portrait. Regardless of the cost, she would do her utmost to teach Declan not to fear love.
Declan strode into the solid expanse of Bradford Hall, and wondered who trained Bradford’s servants. He hadn’t knocked, yet the door was opened to admit him. An impeccably liveried butler led the way to the breakfast room, showing no surprise at the earliness of the hour.
When he glanced around the sunny room, he discovered it was empty. Blasted, where was his cousin? Bradford’s note had arrived at daybreak this morning and had said to come immediately. He welcomed the diversion. Anything was better than thinking about last night, and Alex.
Unable to sit still, he circled the room, noting Lady Bradford had been allowed to decorate the space. Even the table chairs had cushions. Bradford wouldn’t have concerned himself with the amenities.
At last he sat on one of the chairs, its high wooden back carved with Celtic designs. He shut his eyes and rested his head back against the woodwork.
The Celtic knots dug into his scalp. The pain added to the pounding in his head. He deserved it for getting foxed last night. The result had been a disastrous proposal.
Perhaps it would be better if he avoided Alex. It wasn’t that he was afraid. That would be ludicrous. He didn’t love her, so what was there to be afraid of?
Last night was only... what? He could vividly recall Alex’s hands in his hair, her warm soft lips inches from his own. The way her eyes flashed when she’d told him she loved him.
Love.
He hoped to hell she didn’t mean it. Nevertheless, he couldn’t stop thinking about what she’d said. If she did love him, it would be cruel to encourage her.
Once they were married, and they would marry, he’d get her with child as quickly as possible and try to rid her of this notion that she loved him. That’s what he should do. He didn’t want her love. Did he?
Either way, the less time spent with her, the better. He might not have to deal with her at all. After last night, she might already be carrying his heir.
Now he just had to come up with some way to break the news to Catrina. His head began to pound in earnest.
He opened his eyes to find his cousin studying him from the doorway.
How long had he been there?