Love's Guardian (8 page)
What was this tirade about? He should be grateful. How dare he berate her for saving his life? Eleanor’s theories be damned. This man was never going to be her friend, so she might as well stop trying. “In case you hadn’t noticed, the gun was pointing in your direction. It seems there are others, beside myself, who would like you out of the way. Not that I need you out of the way now.”
“Just what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I agree. I need to go to London and get married without delay. Addington has proven he’ll do anything to get what he wants.” She’d never believed her cousin would take things this far. He’d failed in his first attempt, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try again. And his target would be Declan. At least in London, her guardian would be in his own territory.
“You suddenly want to marry because you see Addington as a threat. To who, me?” Declan’s brows drew together. “You needn’t worry. I’ll deal with your cousin.”
“Why would I worry about you?” She picked at the pink ribbon on her night rail. “It’s simply that Addington might discourage any other suitors I have in the area. It’s best if I go to London.”
“What happened to marrying when you’re good and ready?”
She lifted her chin and held his gaze, attempting to give him a haughty look. “I’m ready now.”
Declan actually smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry, my dear. I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you will. It’s none of your business anyway. Let’s just say we’re on the same side now.” Alex adjusted the covers, trying to look every bit the innocent, demure young lady, while keeping her smile in place to keep from wincing. “How soon before we leave for London?”
Declan couldn’t keep up. He’d never known a woman with such a mercurial temperament.
Did she have the slightest idea what she really wanted?
He stared pointedly at her arm. “Our travel plans have been delayed due to unforeseen circumstances.”
She had the grace to blush.
“The doctor says you should be up in a couple of days. You’re lucky the bullet went through the fleshy part of your arm, missing the bone.”
“Did you catch him?”
“No, but I had men scouring the woods right after you were shot. The intruder managed to get by them. It had to have been a local who knew the terrain.” Declan gave a frustrated sigh. “Without your assailant, we have no way of tying this back to Addington. He, of course, maintains that it was an incompetent poacher.”
Addington was lying. Declan didn’t doubt his instincts. The gun had been pointed directly at him. The man must be more desperate than he first thought. Perhaps Adrian should do a little checking into Addington’s affairs. His cousin had a talent for discovering the unsavory side of men like Alex’s cousin.
He gripped the carved footboard and studied his ward. She didn’t appear to have any signs of fever. But her pale face and delicate form were swallowed up in the covers of her oversized poster bed. He’d almost lost her, all because her courage put her in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Lady Alexandra, I want you to forget what I said earlier. Stay away from Addington.” He raised a hand to keep her from speaking. “Let me deal with him. I’d also like you to remain close to the house until we leave for London.”
“Is there anything
else
, my lord?”
He couldn’t miss the sarcasm in her voice.
Good, the old Alex was back. He preferred her arguments.
When she was friendly, his thoughts strayed too often to the kiss they’d shared.
“Not right now. If I think of something, I know where to find you.” He retrieved his black embroidered coat from the window seat and left the room. He hadn’t gone far before he turned and stuck his head back through the doorway. “In case I didn’t mention it, thank you for saving my life.” He closed the door before Alex’s pillow could hit him in the head.
No matter how Alex shifted, she couldn’t get comfortable. She’d only been confined to bed for two hours, and she was already going mad. Relief washed over her at a tap on the door. Thank God, a visitor.
Her cousin’s hushed voice sounded worried. “Alex, are you awake? I thought you might like something to eat.”
“Come in, I’d love some company.”
Eleanor entered carrying a tray, then made a startled sound when she stepped on a pillow.
Alex grimaced. Damn, she’d forgotten to retrieve it. She must have looked guilty because her cousin stared at her with that “what have you been up to
”
look. “Oh, all right. I threw it at him.”
“Who?”
“Lord Worthington. The man is insufferable.”
Eleanor set the tray on the bedside table. “I thought you were going to be nice.” She bent down, picked up the feather pillow, and propped it behind Alex’s shoulders. “He acted very worried about you. After the doctor left, he insisted on remaining by your bed. He seemed to be afraid that you could develop a fever.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Alex settled back into the softness. “Lord Worthington’s only concern was that I might die before he could kill me. He was furious I was there to save his bloody neck.”
Eleanor frowned at her. “Don’t swear.”
Alex shook her head. “I’ll never understand him. I agree with him, tell him I need to marry, and then he decides not to believe me.”
Eleanor froze in the middle of shaking out a napkin. “You what?”
“I agreed with him.”
“Why?” Eleanor sat on the edge of the bed and placed the filigree tray on Alex’s lap. “You’ve never liked being told what to do. Now you’re going to agree to his terms?” Eleanor glanced up from her task.
Alex held her gaze. “Luther’s not going to stop. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
“Meaning, Lord Worthington.”
“Meaning, anyone. Besides, this is my home.” Alex glanced around at the room that had been hers for the last eight years. “My family, and many of the servant’s families have lived here for generations.” She picked up a piece of bread and concentrated on buttering it. “When I was taken from The Merry Elizabeth, I was devastated. No one gave me a choice. I was forced to leave the only security I’d known.
“But as much as I loved life onboard ship, my roots are here. This time I’m going to fight.” Alex gave Eleanor a sudden grin. “Worthington’s right. I’ll have a greater selection of men to chose from in London. I don’t have to marry just anyone. I need to find a special kind of man.” She tapped her index finger against her lips. What did she want in a husband? “Eleanor, would you write a list for me?”
Eleanor appeared puzzled, but went to the writing desk in the corner, sat down, and laid out the quill, ink, and paper. “What do you want at the top of the page?”
“The perfect husband.”
Eleanor made a choking sound. “You can’t just list what you want, then shop for it like Cook does when she goes to market.”
“Why not?” Alex thought for a moment. “My husband must let me take care of the estate. Mark that down as number one.”
“Alex, no man is going to allow you to run an estate. He’ll be worried about its income, or your time away from him.”
“Hmm.” She fidgeted with her bracelet. Eleanor was right. “Fine, then item number two: he must have his own wealth. Number three: he can’t be in love with me.”
“What if you fall in love with him?”
“It won’t happen. There’s not a lord of my acquaintance I could fall in love with.” The image of Declan’s aristocratic features popped into her head, but she shoved it aside.
“What about Lord Worthington?”
“What about him?”
Had her thoughts shown on her face?
“He’s still your guardian,” Eleanor pointed out. “He could reject your choice.”
“Nonsense. What could Lord Worthington possibly object to?” Alex adjusted the covers. “He wants to be done with this as quickly as I do.”
Finding a husband would be simple. Staying out of Declan’s way until they went to London would be the difficult part. Once there, she’d be too busy to think about mocking blue eyes in a face that could make an angel swoon.
Declan found the extent of Lord Lochsdale’s holdings hard to believe. Alex’s grandfather had carefully maintained ledgers on it all, just as he’d instructed a young Declan to do fifteen years ago.
He stood, glad to stretch his legs after sitting the last couple of hours. He’d prefer good, honest physical labor to going over accounts any day.
The door to the library opened and Alex entered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.”
She was a welcome distraction. They’d had a temporary truce the last few days. Alex hadn’t been well enough to ride, and even wore dresses on a semi-regular basis. He, on the other hand, tried not to interfere in her day-to-day activities.
Alex glanced in his direction, but her gaze seemed to be held by the various items on the smooth surface in front of him.
“Did you need something?” Declan straightened the stacks of papers he’d been working on and came around to lean on the edge of the library table, avoiding the carved wooden wings of the mythical creatures that cavorted around the sides.
“I was looking for a quill and ink.” Alex began to back away from him, one hand hidden in the folds of her skirt. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
She acted as jumpy as a horse at the start of a race. Any minute he expected her to bolt out of the room. “What did you need them for?”
“It’s not that I needed them. I just felt like writing.”
His Alex, writing because she felt like it? Next she’d be telling him she’d taken up sewing. He raised an eyebrow until she continued in an exasperated tone.
“If you must know, I wanted to add to my list.”
So that was what she’d been trying to hide. It must be of some importance for her to be so touchy. “List?”
“I’m making a list of the qualities I want in a husband. That way I’ll just score each potential candidate. I’ll marry whomever has the greatest number of points.”
He should have expected something like this from Alex. “Admirable. But have you forgotten I have a say in whom you marry?” He would agree to most anyone who was suitable, just to put her out of temptation’s way, but she didn’t need to know that.
“No,” she retorted. “I intend to choose someone you can’t object to.”
“So, what qualities do you find desirable in a male?” He’d never posed that question to any other woman, but he couldn’t contain his curiosity as to what Alex found attractive in a man. “Perhaps, you’d like an intellectual.” He pretended to ponder his choice, then gave a slight shrug. “Oh, but there wouldn’t be any sport in that. You’d run the poor man through before he’d even raised his weapon.”
“I suppose
no man
could match you in prowess with a rapier.” Alex perused her list, making an elaborate production out of studying every item. “No, I don’t find arrogance on here anywhere. You’d never be a choice.”
“I wouldn’t be a choice, because I choose not to marry until I must. When I do, it will be a business arrangement, nothing more.” He didn’t want to think about his inevitable marriage. Instead, he turned his attention to the rapier collection near the fireplace. “These weren’t here when I was a child. When did your grandfather start collecting?”
He studied the rapiers with a critical eye. They were of the finest quality, about thirty in all, with various grips and blades. He didn’t know much about antiquated weapons, but some appeared to be from the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries.