Midnight My Love (23 page)

His touch made her melt as he pulled her to
him. "I've come to tell you I am officially unengaged, my love." He
kissed her hand and held it tenderly against his chest. "If you
won't consider me fickle, I wish us to become engaged immediately.
I would like your hand in marriage, Miss Sedgewicke," he said
formally. "I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with
you."

Jenny wrapped her arms
around his neck. "I accept your offer of marriage, kind sir," she
said. "It
is
the
next practical step for people in our situation, don't you agree?
And I am not in the habit of kissing gentlemen in labyrinths or in
secluded gardens unless my intentions are serious."

Robert smiled. "I know who you were kissing
in the maze, my dear. Tell me about this kissing in the
gardens."

"I shan't tell, but show you instead." She
tiptoed and pulled him into a loving embrace.

A delicious warmth spread through Jenny as
Robert avidly responded to her kisses. His arm tightened around her
as he ravished her mouth. She closed her eyes and relished the feel
of this big strong man trembling with barely restrained
passion.

For her. For Jenny Sedgewicke.

After enjoying a delightful few minutes of
bliss, Jenny pushed reluctantly against his chest and stepped back.
Had she been too daring? Peeking up at him, she saw his green eyes
shining with love and a desire so hot she felt scorched.

When Robert pulled her toward him again, she
exhaled a ragged breath. His hard body pressed against her and she
felt the proof of his passion through the layers of clothing
separating them. All the years of waiting and loving had not
prepared her for the wickedly enchanting sensations coursing
through her.

Suddenly feeling a bit shy, Jenny studied
the intricate folds of Robert's starched cravat. "Did you have much
trouble breaking the betrothal?" she asked. "Was Lord Thane very
angry?"

Robert traced the graceful
line of her jaw with his thumb. "For a moment, it was touch and go.
I thought the earl was going to prove difficult. Then Felicia
joined us and
she
ended the engagement. Just like that. You'll never guess, but
she has her sights set on Carlisle, of all people."

He paused, and when she only nodded, he
tipped her chin up and looked at her sternly. "You don't seem
surprised. I was under the impression Carlisle was dangling after
my sister. In fact, didn't Alex say she would accept his
offer?"

Shaking her head, Jenny laughed and kissed
him quickly on the mouth. "Alex decided she and the squire were not
suited to one another. She's in love with someone quite
different."

"Demon?" Robert asked.

Jenny looked surprised. "I didn't think you
were aware of the undercurrents swirling about Willowmede for the
past sennight. Do you mind very much?"

Robert ran his fingers through his hair.
Jenny watched as the errant lock fell across his brow as it
habitually did. She had longed to smooth it back many times and now
she could. Tenderly, she swept the tendril up off his forehead and
gasped when Robert locked her in a ferocious embrace. He devoured
her lips in a hungry kiss. She gave in to the luxurious heat
binding them and wrapped her arms around Robert's waist.

After a moment, she pulled back. "You
haven't answered my question," she admonished softly. They were
both breathing heavily. She felt her heart beating erratically.

"What question, love?" He bent closer,
trying to capture her mouth again.

Jenny firmly pushed him away. "About Alex
and Rochdale. Do you mind if they make a match of it?"

"Alex is free to marry where she will," he
said. "But Demon will never marry. He hates women. And didn't he
escort Marcella home from the picnic? Alex won't stand for that
insult."

Jenny examined one of the brass buttons on
his jacket. "I think Rochdale and Alexandra have loved one another
for a long time. They've fought against their feelings for various
reasons. I don't know about him, but Alex has always felt
apprehensive about his rakish tendencies. She doesn't think he'd be
true to her if she should ever marry him."

"There seems to be more to this than I
thought." Robert stared up at the sky. The stars were shining; the
moon would be full tonight. "Neither of them have spoken a word to
me. My best friend and my sister."

"That's not surprising," Jenny said.
"Neither have admitted their feelings to themselves. Alex has only
recently discovered she loves Rochdale, and she's appalled at
herself. Rochdale still doesn't know; or if he does, he's refusing
the truth."

"He's probably afraid to love," Robert said.
"His mother cuckolded his father countless times. He doesn't want
to live as his father did."

Jenny felt a sinking in the pit of her
stomach. "Do you think Alexandra loves him in vain then? Will
Rochdale allow himself to love and be loved?"

Hugging her close, Robert kissed the tip of
her nose. "If anyone has a chance to break through Demon's
defenses, I'd gladly lay my blunt on Alexandra."

The moonlight across her
pillow woke Alexandra. She had fallen asleep after the picnic.
Glancing at the clock on her mantel, she saw the time to be near
midnight. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She'd missed
dinner.

Gathering a shawl about her shoulders, she
went downstairs to the kitchens. She made a sandwich of cold roast
beef, poured a glass of warm milk, and carried the tray of food to
the library. She was wide awake. A book would be just the thing to
while away a couple of hours.

She thought about going to the observatory,
but decided against it. For the last few days, Alex had searched
for her thesis, but to no avail. It seemed to have disappeared.
Maybe Damien had picked it up to go over one more time, even though
she'd told him she wouldn't send it to the Royal Society. But Alex
knew sooner or later she would send it. She must keep her promise
to Papa.

The door of the library stood open and
candlelight streamed into the dark hall. She heard the shuffling of
cards and Garr's surprised voice.

"Don't know how you manage, Rob. Most
amazing thing, really. You shuffle half the deck with one hand,
then shuffle the rest of the deck. Put them together, and you're
ready to deal. How'd you learn?"

"Demon and I perfected the technique. It
took hours of practice," Robert said. "You have to be sober, of
course. Wouldn't do at the clubs, but it's sufficient for a game
between friends."

Alex started to enter the library, but
paused at Robert's next words.

"I can't believe Demon would serve us such a
trick. He wasn't planning to spend the night with the Nugent, as
far as I know. In fact, he said he'd see us at dinner. Besides,
Jenny believes Demon loves Alex."

Garrett cleared his
throat. "Thought so myself. But he was mad as a hornet when he left
Bramble Court. Terrible temper, Demon has. Told him not to do
anything he'd regret. Told
me
he knew what he was about. Pity."

"If he loves Alex, then why did he go off
with Marcella?"

"Can't say," Garrett answered. "She looked
pleased as punch, hanging on his arm. Can't stand the woman,
m'self."

"I thought that affair ended a year
ago."

"It did. The Nugent always latches on to
Demon like a leech whenever he's near. Wants him back."

"Does he want her?" Robert asked.

"Wouldn't think so, but never can tell with
Demon. You know how he is about women. Beds 'em, but never weds
'em. Discovered he loves Alex--running scared now."

"Maybe you're right," Robert said. "The more
I think about it, the more I believe Alex would make a good wife
for him."

"Capital girl, your sister," Garrett agreed.
"Never seen her have a fit of the vapors or anything like that.
Might be just the one for Demon. Last of his line; must have an
heir, you know."

"They both have an interest in astronomy,"
Robert continued, ignoring Garr's profound observations. "They've
stayed up till all hours of the night for the past month, looking
at some planet or star or something."

"Yes, b'gad," Garrett exclaimed. "And
Demon's always in that observatory of his at the Abbey. Carries
that small brass telescope your father gave him wherever he
goes."

Alex heard a chair scrape the floor and
decided against selecting a book. Taking her midnight supper to her
room, she settled herself on the window seat and gazed at the
bright sky. She nibbled at her sandwich, then put it down. Her
appetite had deserted her.

Drawing her knees toward her, Alex rested
her head against them and closed her eyes. She knew Damien had
wanted to hurt her when he escorted Marcella home. How dare he
spend the night with his former mistress? Especially after the
passionate kisses they'd shared behind the waterfall.

This was the last and final straw. Damien
would never change. He was a heartless libertine. He was immoral
and cruel . . . and . . . How could she love such a man?

She tried to allow for his unfortunate
childhood. His mother must have been terrible. Damien bore
emotional scars that would never heal.

Alex jumped up and paced
around her bedchamber. She pushed away the thought of holding
Damien and soothing away his hurts. She must face the truth. He
didn't love her. Had never loved her. He
couldn't
love her.

What was she going to do?
She had been so hopeful of scaling his defenses, of winning his
love. Now, the future seemed . . .
she had
no future
. Not with Rochdale
anyway.

Lifting her chin, she
decided to go to the observatory after all. She would
not
go into a decline.
She would throw herself into her work; there was much to be done.
She must find that thesis, or start all over.

Climbing the stairs to the tower, Alex made
a promise to herself. She would not think about Damien and what
could have been, ever again.

****

The next morning, Damien rose with a stiff
neck and a pounding headache. Sleeping on a short sofa and imbibing
the landlord's best brandy was not conducive to a good night's
sleep. Still, he felt lighthearted and cheerful. He would ask
Alexandra to marry him and he would be a good husband. Not all
marriages had to be like his parents'.

Pulling on his boots, he gathered up his
jacket and made his way to the taproom. The innkeeper hurried to
greet him.

"Good morning, m'lord." The landlord beamed
at his guest. "I tried to rouse you last night, but your lordship
was sleeping like the dead. I took yer boots off and polished them
myself."

"Thank you," Damien said. "I need water and
a razor, some breakfast, and my jacket pressed. I'd like to return
to Willowmede as soon as possible."

The innkeeper nodded. "I told the wife you
must be the one staying with the Baron. I'll show you to a room and
get the shaving gear quick as a wink. Would yer lordship like me to
shave you?"

Damien followed the man up the stairs. "No,
I believe I can manage myself."

Thirty minutes later, Damien was
congratulating himself. Brewster, his valet, would be appalled at
the condition of his boots and jacket, but Damien was satisfied
with his appearance. At least he'd look presentable when he
proposed to Alex.

Sitting down to a hearty breakfast of eggs
and beefsteak, Damien felt nervous. In all of his dealings with
women, he'd never considered their feelings. Did Alex love him?
Would she marry him?

He remembered the passion he'd awakened in
her--remembered her trembling body. Her responses were pure and
real. Not like the practiced responses of his past lovers.

Damien swore he'd be worthy of Alexandra. He
knew he didn't deserve her love. For years, he'd been obsessed with
the memory of one stolen kiss. One woman had dominated his thoughts
and dreams. He could not rid himself of his need for Alexandra,
even though he'd stayed in the same house with her for over a
month.

She
must
feel something for him. She had
to. She could not have responded as she had, if she held him in
disgust. Suddenly, Damien was seized with a rash impatience. He
wouldn't be content until Alexandra was his.

Ordering his mare saddled,
he tipped the ostler and headed for Willowmede. He rode
cross-country, remembering another such ride not so very long ago.
Damien shook his head. How could he have denied his love for
Alexandra for so long? Why had he fought so hard against these
intoxicating feelings? They weren't
that
bad; in fact, they were
pleasant, comforting--even exhilarating, once you grew accustomed
to them.

When he reached Willowmede, he met Robert
and Garrett at the stables. The grooms were harnessing a pair of
perfectly matched grays to Garr's curricle. Damien dismounted and
handed the reins to an underling. "Off to the wars again?" he
asked.

Neither Robert nor Garrett answered; they
merely stared at him. "Don't stand there with your mouths
half-cocked. I know I'm late coming back."

"Slept in your clothes, Demon?" Garrett
asked, shooting a knowing glance at Robert.

Damien grinned. "As a matter of fact, I did.
I had a hell of a night." Rubbing the back of his neck, he thought
of the hard couch at the inn.

"The Nugent accommodating as always?" Garr
wanted to know.

"Let's not go into that, if you please. I'll
tell you one thing, though. After spending the evening with
Marcella, I've finally come to my senses."

"Glad to hear it," Robert said.