My Lady Rival (22 page)

Willa stared at the back of his head.

“Is that true?” Richard asked.

“Yes. No. That is, yes, I do have a reaction to flowers, but I do not react badly to all of them. I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“No, I apologize for sending you something that could have harmed your health.

How does Mr. Laurie—”

Willa dismissed A lex with a wave. “I met Mr. Laurie three years ago on a business trip in Italy. I’m certain he remembers from that time.”

“I see.”

A lthough his expression never changed from one of content amiability, she could tell Richard wasn’t happy. “But I do keep the roses,” she said cheerfully.

“Please don’t stop sending those. Even if the others didn’t make me ill, they are still my favorite flower.”

Richard sent her a seductive smile and lifted her hand to his lips. “Then I will send you a hundred roses,” he murmured low, his voice suggestive and meant send you a hundred roses,” he murmured low, his voice suggestive and meant only for her ears. “Perhaps one day I can surprise you with a thousand, Willa, spread throughout your bedchamber.”

The lights dimmed and the opera began.

“My lord,” she replied, her tongue thick. She didn’t need to pretend to blush; she could tell by the way A lex’s shoulders tensed and his head turned slightly toward them that he’d heard every word.

His shoulders tensed. . . .

Tightening her fingers around Richard’s, she glanced at him through her lashes.

“That is a day I look forward to very much, my lord,” she said, a little more loudly than the quiet murmur he had used. “But I hope you would be in my bedchamber also.”

“Oh, dear,” a woman’s voice said behind them.

Willa froze. Richard’s mother’s voice—the Marchioness of Byrne.

“No,” she whispered.

Richard chuckled against her knuckles and winked at her, then lowered her hand to his arm. “Perhaps we can continue our conversation at a later time, Miss Stratton.”

“Yes, I think that would be wise.” Her voice came out like a mouse’s squeak. She stared straight ahead, toward the stage over A lex’s head. Of course he made no indication he’d heard her response. He appeared much engrossed in the buxom singer wearing little more than a scrap of sackcloth. Or at least he appeared engrossed in the singer when he wasn’t turning his head to whisper in the buxom Lady Marianna’s ear, his lips grazing her lobe from time to time.

Willa drank her champagne and alternated between watching the opera, watching A lex continue to whisper in Lady Marianna’s ear, and pretending to pay attention to the sweet little nothings that Richard continued to whisper in her ear.

By the time the first intermission arrived she was ready to return to Mivart’s, but she allowed Richard to take her arm as they mingled among the crowd in the lobby. She couldn’t remember whom she met or what she said, though.

“A nd how are you enjoying the opera tonight, Miss Stratton?” A t the sound of her name, Willa jerked to attention. She tried to find the person who’d spoken to her in their current circle, but no hint appeared on anyone’s face.

She couldn’t even remember if the voice had been male or female. With a great smile, Willa met the gaze of the other four people in their group. “It’s quite wonderful.” She looked up at Richard. “A lthough I must admit the company tonight is even more enjoyable. Lord Uxbridge has been marvelous at translating all of the songs for me from the Italian.”

A nd, for the most part, translating them incorrectly. She was fairly certain the hero of the opera had not been singing a mourning song about his dog dying.

But it was nice. There were far worse things a man could do to offend her than speak poor Italian.

Richard asked a question of someone else, and Willa’s gaze narrowed over the shoulder of one of the guests. A lex stood beside Lady Marianna, and he was shoulder of one of the guests. A lex stood beside Lady Marianna, and he was trying to catch Willa’s attention, motioning her to the far right side of the lobby.

She shook her head.

He smiled at an older couple nearby, then nodded in her direction. “Please,” he mouthed, then turned back to respond to something Lady Marianna said.

Rising to her toes, she made her excuses to Richard regarding an issue with her gown, then turned and threaded her way through the crush of the crowd toward the far right side of the lobby.

Five minutes later, tapping her toes, Willa pretended not to notice A lex as he finally made his way toward her.

He took her elbow. “Come.” He tried to lead her away, but she rocked backward and locked her knees.

“Please say what you must, Mr. Laurie. I wish to return to my host before the intermission ends.”

A lex turned and searched Willa’s face, noting the sharp little lines at the corners of her eyes, the stubborn cast of her chin. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in a very fine mood at the moment, either. In fact, his mood could have been described as something most foul, a sour disposition that had had time only to deteriorate for the better part of the first act.

A thousand roses in her bedchamber, indeed.

“The intermission will be over soon,” he told her, his fingers gripping her elbow and tugging her toward him. “I’d like to speak to you while I escort you back to the box.” He paused, noted the rebellious glint in her eye, then added through clenched teeth, “If you please, Miss Stratton.”

When he tugged again she hesitated only a moment, then allowed him to lead her up the staircase and down the corridor, which was empty of all except for passing attendants. A fter the fourth attendant they were alone in the corridor. He heard Willa open her mouth with an indrawn breath, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak. Pulling her into a dark alcove opposite the boxes, he turned her against the wall and kissed her.

God, this was all he’d wanted.

Her lips were soft and warm, her body pliable with surprise, and she smelled like what he imagined heaven must smell like: cinnamon and Willa. Before she could stiffen and push him away, A lex drew back.

She blinked at him, lips still parted and dewy, a small indentation lined between her brows. She was adorable.

“Willa Stratton, speechless?” A lex chuckled and drew a finger down her cheek.

“Oh, happy day. I never thought it could happen.”

She tried to shove past him, but he captured her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall, then bent his head to hers. He nuzzled the shell of her ear, then pulled the velvet soft lobe gently between his lips.

“I truly wish you wouldn’t do that,” she said, all stiff and icy and lying through her teeth. A lex touched his tongue to her ear. “I d-don’t like it when you touch her teeth. A lex touched his tongue to her ear. “I d-don’t like it when you touch me.”

“I don’t like it when you touch me, either,” he replied. “You should put your hand on my chest. I would absolutely abhor it.”

She did, though the first impact was more of a punch. “Like this?” she whispered, a moan edging the end of “this” as he sucked and played with her ear.

“Exactly so. Oh, that’s horrible. Willa Stratton, touching me. I can’t bear it.” A lex shuddered, then whispered, “It would be much worse if your hand were to go a little lower.”

Her fingers slid down his waistcoat ever so slowly, then paused in the center of his stomach. “Here?”

“That’s frighteningly dreadful, but if you truly wish to offend me, I suggest you go even lower.”

“V-very well.”

She tilted her head. A lex closed his eyes and sank his lips against her throat, intoxicated by the hot satin of her skin, the delicate pressure of her fingers flattened against him as they skimmed downward over his abdomen.

Her fingers paused as she reached the tip, and her breath caught on a gasp.

“There?” It was a wholly flattering sound, as if she’d expected having to go much lower to find him.

“Yes. There.” A lex rewarded her by catching the delicate tendon of her neck between his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue.

“Oh, Willa,” he murmured against her throat. “I’ve never been so disgusted in my—”

She snatched her hand away and gave him a tight smile, her cheeks flaming even in the dim light. “Perhaps you should have asked Lady Marianna to touch you,” she said, then lifted her chin and ducked out of the alcove.

Willa spent the entire second act of the opera thinking about touching Alex.

Richard kept leaning over to her every few minutes and asking if she was all right, because her cheeks refused to return to their normal color—she could feel their blistering heat just as much as she was aware of the dampness between her thighs.

When the attendants lit the lamps again for the second intermission, Willa was the first to stand in their box. “I’ll meet you in the lobby,” she told Richard, then whirled and hurried to the ladies’ retiring room.

In the retiring room lay a basin and a pitcher of water upon a stand, and Willa poured water into the basin with shaking hands, then dipped a cloth into the water and patted her cheeks, her forehead, her throat.

Oh, God.

She’d touched him. There.

She’d been quite honest when she told A lex that she didn’t like it when he touched her. He made her feel . . . uncontrolled. Helpless.

Lost.

Which might be all well and good if he were a man she could find herself with, but he would one day marry a woman of the English aristocracy, and she would one day marry someone else. A nd she wanted intimacy with a man she could love, with someone who could love her in return.

A nd that man wasn’t A lex Laurie.

Willa turned and looked into the mirror on the wall. Her cheeks were still rosy but no longer felt like they were on fire. Soon she would need to speak to Richard. He deserved to court someone who could marry him and not think about another man’s private parts while Richard was sitting beside her, trying to make her laugh with ironic observations of the singers onstage.

Willa left the retiring room as a trio of other women entered.

When she neared the Byrne box, she found A lex standing there, leaning against the wall with his arms and ankles crossed.

Watching her, he drew back the curtain to the opera box and gestured inside.

She walked past him and sat in the empty box, in the seat she’d taken before, beside Richard. A lex sat in front of her again, though he twisted in the seat halfway to look at her. Those who remained in boxes nearby would see them talking, nothing more. No more dark alcoves, no more inappropriate touches or kisses.

A lex cleared his throat. “What is the number one complaint about your father’s A lex cleared his throat. “What is the number one complaint about your father’s dye, Miss Stratton?”

Willa hesitated. It was not at all what she’d expected him to say. “I don’t understand. Do you truly believe that I would expose such a weakness to his rival?”

“A llow me to phrase it another way, then. What is your favorite color?”

“Pink,” she answered immediately, then narrowed her gaze. “Why do you want to know my favorite color, Mr. Laurie?”

He shook his head as if clearing it. “For an example. If you were to wear a pink gown, what would happen to your chemise and petticoats and corset that touched the gown?”

“They would turn pink as well, of course . . .”

“A nd if you were to wear a pink chemise, what would happen to your skin?” Willa pursed her lips. “I don’t think I like this question. You’re not now imagining me dressed only in a pink chemise, are you?”

A lex grinned at her. “Perhaps. But answer the question, please.”

“If I were to wear a pink chemise, then I imagine my skin would turn pink.”

“A ha! Yes, that is the correct answer. Congratulations, Miss Stratton.”

“A nd this is important because—”

A lex leaned in, beckoning her to come close. She did—only out of curiosity, not because she was drawn to the way his eyes shone or the creases at the corners of his mouth when he smiled.

“Because, Miss Stratton,” he whispered, “at a certain mill in a certain town there is a new process being tested, one which I have invented wherein dye on one cloth will no longer stain another cloth or the skin it lies against.” Willa drew back. She knew her eyes went wide, saw how pleased he was at her astonished expression. She couldn’t help it. If his invention truly worked, he would be fabulously wealthy, ten times more so than her father. “No . . .”

“Yes, very much so.” His smile faded. “I’m leaving in a few days for another visit to the mill. I’d like for you to go with me.”

“With Lady Carlyle?”

“No. A lone.”

They stared at each other. Willa nodded. “I would be delighted to visit your mill.”

She stood from the seat. She’d promised to meet Richard in the lobby again, and the intermission was already halfway over. Something urged her to hold out her hand again, although she shouldn’t have. His hand was always too large, too strong. It made her wish he’d wrap his arms around her and never let go. “I look forward to it, A lex.”

He took her hand, and it was everything she feared. She wanted more.

Four days later, the owner of Alex’s mill, Ronald MacFadden, scratched his chin.

A nd no wonder, Willa thought, focusing on the thick blond beard covering the man’s chin instead of on A lex, who stood right beside her. The beard was a monster, bristling and wiry. It probably tried to kill him in his sleep.

“Is it all right if we look around?” A lex asked.

“Look around all you like. Let me know if you want to change something. Just don’t get in the way of the girls.”

“Thank you. Good to see you again, Mr. MacFadden.”

The mill owner tipped his hat. “Mr. Laurie. Miss Laurie.” A lex stood still until he walked away, then turned to Willa. “Don’t say a word until we go outside.”

He took her elbow and guided her down the narrow stairs to the lower floor, away from the offices that overlooked the manufacturing lines.

He led her out the side doors, to the small, barren courtyard in between the main mill and the factory on the other side.

“I’d prefer if you didn’t touch me, Mr. Laurie. I believe I told you that earlier at the inn.”