Midnight My Love (12 page)

Carlisle stopped and grasped both of her
hands. "Pardon me for being stern with you, my dear. I am extremely
uneasy with Rochdale running loose at Willowmede. He is a very
dangerous man, Miss Turlington. You don't know the half of what
he's done and I wouldn't sully your innocent ears with his
dastardly deeds."

Alex withdrew her hands. "I cut my wisdoms
long ago, Carlisle. I know what kind of man he is. Now, if you will
excuse me, I find I have a headache."

Sir Howard was all concern. "You must lie
down at once. I wish you would take better care of yourself. These
late nights pursuing your hobby cannot be beneficial to your
health. I won't stand for such nonsense after we're married."

"I think I will go lie down," Alex said.
"Thank you for your visit. Lord Thane and Lady Felicia will be here
on Thursday. Please come to dinner. I know you'll want to pay your
respects to them."

Carlisle beamed at the invitation. "Until
Thursday, then. Go rest, my dear." He bowed over her hand, giving
it a slight squeeze.

Alex watched as he walked jauntily out of
sight. She knew Carlisle was a good and honorable man. She couldn't
help thinking he was extremely dull as well.

****

Jenny wiped her eyes and blew her nose after
indulging in a bout of tears in the privacy of her bedchamber. She
was being silly and she knew it. Robert was engaged to be married.
His fiancée was due to arrive any day now.

She didn't know how she would manage to sit
by and watch Robert and Lady Felicia together. She thought her
heart would surely break, if it hadn't already. She was more in
love with Robert than ever before.

These past few weeks--taking care of him,
helping him to overcome some of the obstacles he faced, listening
to his fears, and offering encouragement--had been the happiest in
her whole life. Spending each day with the man she loved, even
though he didn't return that love, had been heavenly.

Lately, she'd noticed Robert looking at her
with tenderness in his eyes. Perhaps he was starting to feel more
than friendship for her. Maybe he was beginning to love her just a
little. That was nonsense, of course. He was in love with Lady
Felicia.

Jenny stared at her reflection in the mirror
over her dressing table and sighed. She could never compete with
the beautiful Lady Felicia Marlow. She had seen Robert's fiancée in
London many times this past Season. She was a blonde ethereal
beauty, tall and wispy. Was it any wonder Robert had fallen in love
with her?

Jenny would stay long enough to see if
Robert truly loved Lady Felicia--and to make sure his love was
returned. If Robert was happy, then she would leave Willowmede and
go visit each of her brothers and their families. She would make
her home with one of them and play the favorite maiden aunt.

Jenny straightened her shoulders and blew
her nose again. There was one more thing she could do to help
Robert with his convalescence. He said he was frustrated because he
couldn't cut his meat. Cook had been preparing his portions in
bite-sized pieces for him. That wouldn't do when he went out in
company. Jenny had an idea.

She went down to the kitchens to consult
Mrs. Abernathy and Mrs. Tolles. She found the women sitting at the
big table drinking a cup of tea. Bread was rising near the hearth
and Jenny smelled the comforting aroma of yeast. The kitchens were
clean and scrubbed, neat and cozy.

The two women rose when they saw Jenny.

"Miss Sedgewicke!" exclaimed Mrs. Tolles,
the small round housekeeper. "What can we do for you, Miss?"

Mrs. Abernathy fetched a cup from the
cupboard. "How 'bout a spot o' tea, Miss?"

Jenny smiled her thanks. "That would be most
welcome." She sat down and sipped her tea, considering her next
move.

"I've come to ask for your help," she began,
looking at each in turn. She saw a spark of interest in the women's
eyes. "Your master is recovering nicely, but he's still very
disheartened with his disability. He mentioned one thing in
particular that's bothering him." She looked at Mrs. Abernathy. "I
know Robert is grateful for all of your consideration in preparing
foods he can easily handle. The stews and puddings have been
wonderful. He manages well with the fork, but when it comes to
cutting meat, he's experiencing great difficulty."

Jenny smiled at the cook. "Robert is lucky
to have such caring people in his household. Sending in his meat
already cut has been extremely thoughtful. But your master must
learn to do things for himself. When he goes out in company, he
must be able to fend for himself at the dinner table."

Mrs. Abernathy nodded. "Yes, Miss. Mrs.
Tolles and I have been talking about it. But we can't think of a
better way."

When both women looked at her expectantly,
Jenny knew she had their allegiance. "I've come up with a plan,"
she said. "It's simple, really. He needs an extraordinarily sharp
knife. Not just any knife. It must be special. Something he can
carry with him to dinner parties and one he's comfortable
using."

Mrs. Tolles jumped up. "I know the very
thing. There's a small jeweled dagger in one of the cases in the
armory. It's been in the family for years. It's beautiful, Miss,
with a silver filigree holder."

Jenny clapped her hands. "Perfect! Sterling
or one of the footmen can sharpen and hone it. It must be sharp
enough to shave with. Could one of you practice to see how best it
can be used efficiently with one hand? Then you can show Robert. I
would rather he didn't know this was my idea."

"But, Miss . . ." protested the
housekeeper.

"Please, Mrs. Tolles. I have my reasons,"
Jenny said quietly. "Have someone fetch that dagger. The sooner,
the better."

****

Damien watched Robert as he practiced
maneuvering his great black gelding around the field. It had taken
considerable pressure to persuade Robert to mount again, but he
knew Robert was finally past the dangerous depression which had
threatened his life.

Slackening his reins,
Damien allowed his horse to roam at will, grazing on the green
summer grass of the fertile pasture. Grinning, he thought of the
good use he had made of Sir Howard Carlisle. The squire had made an
unforgivable
gaffe
when he insinuated Robert was unable to handle a
horse.

Damien knew Robert could barely tolerate the
man. Who could blame him? The way he lived in Alexandra's pocket
was disgusting. But after Carlisle's blunder, Damien could have
shaken his hand. Robert was ready to prove he was not a helpless
invalid.

His grin faded when he
thought of the gratitude reflected in Alexandra's eyes when she
realized what he'd done. Damien didn't want her gratitude. He
didn't know what he wanted from her. He knew he
desired
her in the physical sense,
and the nights in the observatory were taking their toll. The more
time he spent with Alexandra, the more attractive she
became.

Her emerald eyes, her full lips, her low
musical voice--the sensual combination tormented Damien until he
thought he would burst from need. He decided he'd visit the village
soon, find a buxom barmaid, and relieve the smoldering tension in
his loins. All he needed was a woman--any woman would do.

Damn it! Why was he trying to deceive
himself? Only Alexandra could douse the fires burning inside of
him. Her alluring body wasn't the only thing he craved. He admired
her quick wit, her intelligent observations, and her dedication to
her father's theory. Her thesis would be outstanding and well
received by the Royal Society.

Damien enjoyed working with her. Astronomy
had always fascinated him, but there were few people in the ton who
shared his interest. Long ago, Robert's father had taken him under
his wing and had even given him a small brass telescope one
Christmas. He'd carried it with him ever since; it was in his coat
pocket even now.

Robert rode up beside him and Damien pulled
on his horse's reins. His friend's face was ruddy from the
exercise. He almost looked like his old self again. "You seem to be
doing splendidly, Rob. Ready to take a fence or two?"

"Not yet," Robert said with a grin, patting
Titus's sleek shining neck. "Although, I think I've accomplished
quite a bit this morning. It isn't as difficult as I thought it
would be. Who knows? I may try my hand with the gig again."

Damien rode beside Robert as they guided
their mounts to the stables. "Perhaps. But before you try your
skill with the ribbons, maybe you should master some simpler tasks.
I know you've been working on writing with your left hand. Have you
thought about shuffling cards and playing whist?"

"Yes, and I must learn to take snuff without
spilling it all over my blasted shirt," he said.

Damien laughed. "If you
visited Town more often, you would know the correct way to take
snuff
is
with one
hand. You would do well to emulate Brummel. He uses his left hand
and does it with infinite grace."

Robert threw his reins to a waiting groom
and dismounted. "I'm sure you can show me the precise way. I know
how much you admire the Beau." He ducked as Rochdale tossed his
riding crop at his head. He picked it up and handed it back to the
viscount with a grin. "Aim's wide off the mark this morning, Demon.
Never known you to miss a target before. I think I'll go to the
kitchens to beg sustenance from Mrs. Abernathy. Care to join
me?"

Damien declined the invitation, smiling to
himself as Robert started for the house. He was glad to see his
friend regaining some of his self-confidence. He was recovering
rapidly, and soon Damien would be able to leave Willowmede.

It was time he left. More than time. He had
to get away from Alexandra. It was becoming increasingly difficult
to be near her and not touch her. Damien detested the feelings he
experienced when Alex was near. He had sworn no woman would ever
hold power over him and he meant to stand by his oath.

Robert entered the house by
the back way, going through the servants' hall toward the kitchens.
His stomach growled with hunger. The workout he'd put himself
through with Titus had stirred his appetite.

He felt good that he was
still able to ride. With some practice, he knew he would be
competent again. Jenny was right. He
would
come about with patience and
perseverance.

Walking into the kitchen, he discovered Mrs.
Abernathy busily preparing a pheasant for the night's meal. He
smiled. "Don't let me disturb you, Mrs. A. I thought I'd make a
sandwich to tide me over until tea-time. Is there some cold meat
and cheese in the pantry?"

Mrs. Abernathy wiped her large hands on her
apron. "And what if there is? Ye won't be making yer own sandwich,
m'lord. No, not while I have a breath left in me body. You sit
right down and let me make you some fine sandwiches and pour you a
tankard of ale. It won't be a minute before we have ye fixed up."
She waddled off to the pantry to fetch the cold Yorkshire ham and
some sharp cheddar cheese.

Robert grinned as he sat at the table near
the hearth. Nothing pleased Mrs. Abernathy more than to be able to
feed someone. All of his life, she had tried to fatten him up.

His thoughts were diverted when Sterling and
a menial entered the room. They stopped short when they saw their
master, and Robert noticed they looked strangely uneasy. Sterling
was carrying a gold dagger of sorts. It looked vaguely
familiar.

"My lord!" said the butler. He quickly
handed the dagger to the footman and dismissed him. The young man
hesitated, looked at the dagger, then glanced anxiously at his lord
and master.

Something was up. Robert thought he'd never
seen two more guilty looking people in all his life. He confronted
his servants. "What have you got there, David? May I see it?" He
held out his hand. David looked at Sterling. The butler nodded.

Robert examined the beautiful knife. He
would know it anywhere. More like a short dirk than an actual
dagger, the handle was turned in gold with a large ruby embedded in
the end of the hilt. Carefully, and a bit awkwardly, he unsheathed
the blade and admired its gleam in the sunlight pouring from the
window. The sheath was worked in gold and silver filigree, set
throughout with tiny rubies. It was a magnificent instrument.

Robert stared at Sterling. The butler
heroically held his lord's penetrating gaze. "This has been up in
the armory for years," he said quietly. "I often admired it as a
child. Been in the family since before Cromwell, I believe. What
are you doing with it, Sterling?"

The butler cleared his throat. "It was
thought, my lord, meaning no disrespect, you understand . . . It
came to someone's attention, that your lordship was having
difficulty at the dinner table. Someone thought a very sharp knife,
one sharp enough to shave, would be of benefit to you, my lord.

"Someone thought a special kind of knife,
one which your lordship could carry with you, would help at the
table. Especially when eating in company."

Robert regarded the dirk, then gazed at the
butler thoughtfully. "This was Miss Sedgewicke's idea, wasn't
it?"

Sterling stared at an invisible spot on the
opposite wall. "I couldn't say, my lord. It was Mrs. Tolles who
sent me for the dagger."

Robert smiled
slowly.
Ah, Jenny. What will you think of
next?
"And what is the plan, Sterling? Out
with it! I might as well know what's in store for me."

The butler gazed at his master. A look of
understanding passed between the two men. "Well, my lord," he said,
clearing his throat again, "I'm to sharpen the blade until it
shaves the hair off my arm. Then Mrs. Tolles and I are going to
practice cutting meat with one hand to find the most proficient way
to use the blade."