No Brighter Dream: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 3 (24 page)

But most shocking of all, everyone agreed in hushed tones, was the kiss they exchanged at the end of the ceremony. It could only be called unusually heated, despite the overt restraint.

And horror of horrors, the best man laughed.

A
li slipped out into the garden, desperate for a moment of peace. Even though the breakfast was over, the party was not, and she and Andre still hadn’t had a minute to themselves. She looked down at the plain slim band on her finger, thinking it the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, a symbol not only of marriage, but of the full circle she and Andre had made back to each other.

She rubbed her forefinger lovingly over the rich gold, remembering the moment that Andre had slid the ring onto her finger, his touch firm but gentle, his voice so deep, so beautiful.
With this ring, I thee wed
… They were words she would treasure forever—she particularly liked the part about his body worshiping hers. Ali smiled, thinking of the kiss he’d bestowed on her. There’d been nothing noncommittal about that.

“Alexis … may I have a quick word with you?”

Ali spun around to find Matthew standing behind her, and her heart sank. “Yes, of course,” she said. “But I—I hope you can find it in your heart to wish me happiness, Matthew, because I don’t think I could bear it if you can’t.”

“That is what I wanted to say. I … Alexis, I’ve been a fool. It took watching you at the altar today to realize that you were right about us. It wouldn’t have worked.” He rubbed his neck. “I was holding on to a childhood fantasy, and I believed you were doing the same with Montcrieff. But I see that what you have with him is real.”

“Oh, Matthew, thank you for understanding,” she said with a sigh of relief. “That means a great deal to me.”

“There is something about the two of you together that … well, you just seem to belong to each other. I—that’s ah. Excuse me, I must get back. I promised to bring Hattie a glass of champagne.”

“Of course.” Ali stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Friends?”

“Friends,” he agreed.

Ali grinned. “Good. Then take some friendly advice. Don’t ignore what’s right under your nose.”

Matthew nodded, but looked puzzled nonetheless, and Ali shoved his chest. “Go on. Go fetch Hattie some champagne.”

He took a step backward to regain his balance, and nearly bumped into Andre, who came into the garden just at that moment.

“You’re not harassing my wife, I hope?” Andre said calmly enough, but Ali thought he looked surprisingly dangerous.

Matthew put out his hand. “Just the opposite. My apologies, Montcrieff.”

Andre, surprised, shook his hand. “I accept them. You’re safer when you’re feeling tame. And please, will you call me Andre? We are family, after all.”

Matthew smiled faintly. “I suppose we are. Well. Best of luck to you both.” He headed back to the house.

Andre turned to Ali. “Thank God for a moment alone. And thank God I can now do this with impunity.” He pulled her into his arms and lowered his head, taking Ali’s mouth in a fevered kiss.

She slipped her arms around his neck, her blood racing in her veins as his tongue found hers and his kiss deepened until she shook with desire.

“Oh, no, they’re at it again. That performance in the church wasn’t enough?”

Ali sprang away from Andre, belatedly realizing that the words had been spoken in Turkish and that Joseph-Jean was grinning at her. “You beast,” she said.

“Bugger off,” Andre said more succinctly, pulling her back into his arms.

“Actually, Georgia sent me to find you. She says it’s time for Ali to change into traveling clothes. But I imagine she really sent me to avoid having you discovered in flagrante delicto by one of your less enlightened guests.”

“We can leave?” Ali said, catching on the words she’d been waiting to hear. “Oh, how wonderful.”

Andre chuckled. “Patience never was your strong suit. But at the moment it’s not mine, either. Go on then, Ali. Change your clothes and say your goodbyes, and we’ll be on our way.”

“I promise, I won’t be long.” She gave him one last brilliant smile and hurried away.

“So,” Andre said as soon as she’d gone, “what do you think? Isn’t it amazing? Would you know that was the same girl we sent off from Izmir?”

Joseph-Jean was silent.

“Jo-Jean? Surely you must be surprised?”

Joseph-Jean looked at Andre long and hard. “I would know Ali anywhere. And you, my friend, are an even bigger fool than I thought.” He walked off without another word.

“Alexis,” Hattie whispered, kissing her good-bye. “I shall miss you.”

“Don’t worry, Hattie. I’ll be back. You can be sure of it. It’s only a month after all.” She pushed her bouquet into Hattie’s hands, the silver sixpence still tucked inside. “For you,” she said. “May it bring you all the luck and happiness you deserve.”

She said a tearful farewell to Nicholas and Georgia, then turned to Joseph-Jean, who stood next to Andre. As frustrating as it was, all she could do was to let him bow over her hand in front of all the guests and staff who watched them. “Thank you,” she said. “You were most kind to come.”

“It had nothing to do with kindness, Duchess, and everything to do with friendship. Please. Look after him for me?” he asked in an echo of years before when the situation had been reversed.

“You know I will,” she said, completing the phrase. “Good-bye.” The love in her eyes spoke the rest.

Joseph-Jean walked with them to the carriage. “And you look after her,” he murmured, taking advantage of the proximity of Andre’s ear. “Or I swear I’ll kill you.”

Andre clapped Joseph-Jean on the back, not gently. “I wish to hell you’d make up your mind about this,” he said. “But regardless, I’ll be in touch.”

And then, the farewells finished, Ali climbed inside the waiting carriage, Andre joining her. The door shut behind them and the carriage rolled off, cheers following after them.

Andre pulled his gaze from the window as soon as the last person was out of sight. He looked at Ali. “Well, wife. What now?”

Ali was unclear on the matter. “I was about to ask you. Where are we going? Georgia said only that we weren’t leaving England.”

“We’re taking the four o’clock express to the coast, and then I’m taking you to your wedding present.”

“My wedding present?” Ali said, clapping her hands together in delight. “Oh, Andre—you bought me a present? What is it?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” He settled back against the plush squabs and folded his arms across his chest. “We ought to be sitting down to dinner in about four hours. Can you last until then? I seem to remember your prodigious appetite, and you didn’t eat much at noon.”

“I was too happy to eat,” she said. “And now I’m too excited even to think about food.” She sighed. “I like being a bride, but I think I like being a married lady much better.” She smoothed down the silk skirt of her new dress. “Do you think I look like a married lady?” she asked him mischievously.

“Hmm. I’d have a peek, but it will have to wait till later,” he said with a little smile. “As much as the waiting might be torture, I’m damned if I take you this time in anything less than a bed.”

Ali chortled. “You’d have a hard time in the confines of a carriage, especially with all the underclothes I’m wearing.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I think you underestimate my ingenuity. But that’s enough talk about that, or I’ll break my word here and now. Actually, in preparation for your role as mistress of Sutherby, I’ve been meaning to tell you everything I know about crop rotation…”

The brougham that met them at the other end of their journey was a far cry from the one that had taken them from Sutherby. It had no ducal coat of arms on the side, and although it was in good repair, it was not elegant. Nor was the driver who hopped down off the box and tipped his hat. He was dressed not in livery but in farm clothes, and his weathered face and hands had seen their share of the outdoors.

“Good evening, sir,” he said in a thick country accent, tipping his hat. “Welcome, madam. I’m Lummus. Hop on in, and I’ll have you sitting at your dinner in no time flat. The missus is making you a nice roast for your wedding supper, and may I wish you very happy?”

He loaded the baggage, and he was as good as his word. Within half an hour of rolling down country roads, they turned into a long lane and a few minutes later the carriage pulled up in front of a limestone farmhouse, surrounded by outbuildings and fields. Ali looked at Andre in question. “Is it an inn?” she asked.

“No, and it’s not a tent, either, but it’s the best I could do. This is Milford Farm, where we’re going to spend the next month.”

Ali gazed at the farmhouse, taking in the lead-paned windows, the pitched roof, the sheep grazing in the pastures beyond. “Oh, Andre, it’s so sweet. Whom does it belong to?”

“You,” he said, opening the door. “This is your wedding present. You own it free and clear, all six hundred acres.”

Ali’s jaw dropped. “It’s mine?” she whispered.

“Yes. I wanted you to have a place to come to when you don’t feel like being a duchess, where you can be plain Mrs. Saint-Simon and live a simple life with your animals.” He held out his hand. “Lummus farms the land with his wife, who will housekeep for us while we’re here. They live in a cottage on the other end of the lane.”

“Andre, I don’t know what to say…” Ali could barely get the words out, she was so overwhelmed by his kindness and touched by the thoughtfulness of such a gift, not to mention the time he must have spent finding it.

But at the same time she couldn’t help but wonder if he thought her too uncouth, too childish to withstand the responsibilities of being a duchess, that she needed a convenient escape. She wondered too if this was the reason he’d decided to bury her in the country instead of taking her to the Continent. Both thoughts worried at her, but she chose to remain silent. She was the last person to complain about being buried in the country.

“You really are without something to say?” he said, helping her down. “I don’t believe it. Now come inside and inspect your humble abode.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her through the door, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the frame.

“Welcome, Mrs. Saint-Simon,” said a middle-aged woman, hurrying out of the kitchen into the little entrance area, wiping her reddened hands on a towel. “Martha Lummus, and it’s a pleasure to meet you at last, to be sure. Everything is in order, just as your husband requested, and I’ll bring up some hot water to your bedroom in just a tick when Arnold is finished carrying the bags up.”

“Thank you,” Ali said, smiling at this small, kind woman with a face as weathered as her husband’s. “It’s very nice to meet you too.”

“Well, isn’t that kind of you. Oh, and there’s a surprise waiting for you outside the back door, just through the hall there. Came this morning off the train. Never seen anything so bossy and scrappy.”

Andre chuckled and strode through the hallway, opening the door. A small white and black polka-dotted streak came bolting through and went into a dance of ecstasy upon seeing Ali, turning frantic circles at her feet.

“Sherifay!” Ali cried in disbelief, scooping her up into her arms. “How did—oh,
Andre.
Andre, thank you!” She submitted to a thorough face-licking, then put Sherifay down. “But how did you even know about her? She was shut away for her heat in the kennel the last time you were at Ravenswalk.”

“Nicholas told me, of course. He seemed to think that having her here would make you happy. But come.” He took her hand and opened another door, drawing her inside.

Ali blinked. It was a large and cozy sitting room, but what astonished her was the manner in which it was decorated. Ornate Turkish carpets covered with stone floor, and richly decorated pillows in familiar patterns adorned the sofa and chairs, more scattered about the floor. A brass coffee table, worked in an elaborate design, stood in front of the sofa, and even the prints on the wall were of Turkish scenes. She recognized a few watercolors that could only have been painted by Joseph-Jean.

Andre’s writing table sat against one wall.

Ali could only shake her head, her eyes welling with tears.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lummus didn’t know what to think until I explained that I was an eccentric historian.” He pointed at the bookshelf, which was filled with tomes on that part of the world. “I said nothing about you, naturally. But I do want you to feel you have a safe and comfortable haven, Ali, despite what I’m dragging you into elsewhere.”

Ali, deeply shaken, moved into his arms and buried her head against his hard shoulder. She couldn’t help it—her tears came unbidden, and she began to cry soundlessly, overwhelmed with love for him.

“What is it?” he murmured against her hair. “Do you not like it? I thought it would bring you happy memories, not sad ones—oh, come, sweetheart, don’t cry. If you really don’t like it, I’ll pack it all away and you can have an ordinary old farmhouse. Whatever you wish.”

Ali shuddered and pulled herself together. She rubbed her face against his coat, then looked up at him. “Don’t be silly. I love it. How did you do it?”

“I had a number of things shipped before I left,” he said, appearing relieved that she’d returned to her senses. “When I realized we were to be married, I knew exactly what to do with them,” he said, wiping away her tears with his thumbs. “Wait until you see the bedroom.”

“You haven’t re-created a harem, by any chance?” she asked with a wobbly smile.

“Now what would I know about the inside of a harem?” he replied, his fingers moving down to stroke her neck.

“Probably far too much,” she said tartly. “Oh, Andre, I honestly don’t know how to thank you for all this. It’s—it’s like being home again.”

“Well, thank God,” he said with real relief, “since that was the idea. I meant this to be your own You-rook encampment in the heart of England. The only thing I can’t do anything about is the weather, but the fireplace draws nicely.”

Ali reached up with both hands and drew his head down toward hers, kissing her softly. “You couldn’t have given me anything more perfect.”

“Well…” he said, nipping her bottom lip with his teeth, “the night has only just begun.”

Ali caught her breath at the note of husky promise in his voice. She suddenly couldn’t wait for dinner to be over.