Edith Layton (18 page)

He laughed at her expression. Eric joined in, as did Gilly. In a moment Alexandria did too. They were the only ones in the room that did, though.

“My God!” Eric said, pausing on the doorsill to Drum’s bedchamber two weeks later. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Preventing myself from turning into a bowl of jelly,” Drum grunted. “Close the door, please. I keep the servants away at this hour. But you never know when someone might look in. I don’t want this getting back to my father.”

Eric shut the door behind him, crossed his arms, and stared. His friend had transformed his elegant bedchamber into something resembling a storage room in the attics. Six settees of different styles and shapes stood in a row, an equal number opposite, their backs facing, forming an alley that went from the huge canopied bed to the long window at the end of the
room. The Earl of Drummond, clad only in his shirt and smallclothes, was inching through that weird path using only his hands, bearing his whole weight on them on the backs of the settees as he swung, suspended in air, between them. He went slowly, holding himself high enough so that his feet never touched the fine Aubusson carpets or polished wood floor. Grimes hovered nearby, obviously prepared to catch him if he fell.

Eric noted that his friend’s lean body was deceptively strong. His hands were criss-crossed with veins that showed he used them for more than modeling riding gloves, his long arms were sturdy and well muscled, his good leg solidly built. Eric winced when he saw the heavy cage of wood Drum dragged along on his other leg. “Against doctor’s orders?” Eric asked mildly.

“Not really,” Drum huffed. “Doctor never said no.”

“Because you never asked.”

“Right,” Drum said, on an explosion of breath as he reached the window. “Got here faster today, right?” he asked Grimes as he leaned against the sill, supporting himself on his good leg at last.

Grimes looked at the watch he held in his hand. “A full half minute faster, my lord.”

“Good,” Drum said. “Thank you, Grimes. I’ve a few things to discuss with Major Ford now. Don’t worry, he’ll help me back.”

Grimes bowed and quickly left the men alone.

Drum grinned at his friend. “If I did nothing but sit and wait, my leg would be of no use to me by the time they decided to unlock the damned thing. I got to feeling weak as a kitten, Eric. Resting all day is as weary
ing as riding all day, in its way, but much worse in the long run. I never realized that a man had to use his muscles or lose the use of them. The world thinks the rich are lucky because they can lounge around and avoid laboring as common men must do. But rich men who do that have more gout, apoplexy, and liver complaints than other men.

“All right,” he said to Eric’s bland expression, “I can’t prove it. But I know inactivity was driving me mad. I couldn’t sleep at night, I couldn’t do anything but twitch and moan all day. I can’t use the leg yet, I accept that. I certainly don’t want to lose it through my own stupidity, and if I move the bones before they’re set, I might. But no one said I couldn’t use my brain. I did, and learned how to exercise without troubling the leg. Grimes is too slight to bear my weight for walking. Certainly, I could hop, but that wouldn’t be much exercise. I found this settles my nerves. Look at the ceiling above my bed.”

Eric glanced up and saw two ropes hanging from a portion of a high beam that had been exposed.

“That’s what I did when I first started, got my arms strong enough to do this,” Drum said proudly. “I raised and lowered myself, until I knew I could do more.”

“But you didn’t want the duke to know. What if he sees that?”

“I’m hoping he won’t. He seldom comes into my bedchamber. If he does? I’m not six anymore, I’m not afraid of him. I just didn’t want him worrying and then worrying at me about it. He’s very good at that. But this will ensure my being able to use the crutches the minute they give them to me. Then when I can actually walk, I won’t—I’ll run!”

“You’ve been getting around well enough in your invalid chair, I hear,” Eric commented, strolling over to the window and looking out, to avoid his friend’s penetrating gaze.

“To a tea?” Drum said bitterly. “To the Tower, to be wheeled around and shown the menagerie as a treat? To the Regent’s Park to be set next to the other old gents in their invalid chairs, so we can gossip in the sunshine? To Astley’s to watch the horse show from a chair on the aisle? Oh yes, I’ve been traveling, and I’m fed up with the way I’ve been doing it.”

“And who you’ve been doing it with?”

Drum watched his friend with a measuring eye. “You want me to back away, Eric?” he finally said. “If so, just say it. She’s been wonderful company. But if you’ve got a notion to court her in earnest I’ll step back, even before I can do it on my own two legs. It didn’t seem that way to me, though.”

“It isn’t,” Eric said. “She enjoys my company as much as I do hers, I think. But she doesn’t see me. Not as a man, at any rate. Not with you in the room, or the city, or the world, for that matter. I’m surprised, though. It isn’t like you. I thought she was the last woman in the world whose expectations you’d raise. She’s the kind of woman you always stayed away from, the kind you might desire, but never trifle with. Unless, of course, you mean to do more than that, and that would more than surprise me.”

“Would it?” Drum mused. “As to my reasons for keeping her company—forget lust, I’m adult enough to control that. You can omit love too, I don’t feel that, never have and doubt I ever will. But a great deal of real affection? Yes. It’s a considerable surprise to me
too. I won’t hurt her. I promise you I’d cut off my other leg before I’d do that. I think I do have to promise you, don’t I? And not just because you’re gallant.”

Eric’s expression grew guarded.

“I’m not the only man who’s been seen around town with her these days, am I?” Drum asked mildly. “There are places I can’t go even in my invalid chair, like rowing or riding in the park. You can, and I understand you have. Again, I ask because I’ll do as you wish. Do you want me to step out of the picture?”

“No,” Eric said stonily. “Again, as
I
said, there’s no point.”

“So,” Drum said, looking at his hands as though seeing the calluses on his palms for the first time, “this isn’t productive, is it? Let me tell you something that is. I’ve got a list of names.”

Eric’s gaze sharpened.

Drum nodded. “My connections are still good. There are four men who live in the countryside, two of them relatively near the Gascoyne cottage. And more who live in London. English Bonapartists who are known to be deeply grieved about the passing of their master. All on a list of men His Majesty watched all through the war. Whether they still need watching is the question.”

“And you’d like me to find the answer?”

“If you’d be so kind. I can’t yet. I hope to be on my own two feet for the close. Mind you, it might be a waste of time. We might get a letter from the boys any time now saying they’ve found some poor chap and have badgered him into confessing.”

“I doubt it,” Eric said. “Give me the list.” He grimaced when Drum put his hand on a settee again,
preparing to wend his way back across the room to the desk he was looking at. “Here, I can’t stand to watch you struggling—ah, exercising—anymore. Put your arm round my shoulder, lean all your weight on me, and hop on your good leg. I’m tall as a tree, and just as sturdy.”

Drum grinned, even more when Eric half carried him swiftly to his desk. Once there, Drum touched a side panel and a tiny drawer slid out. He took out a folded paper and handed it to Eric.

Eric slipped it into his pocket. “Good. Might as well get to work right away. I’ve nothing better to do now anyway.”

Drum hesitated. “I’m sorry about that. Women’s minds are as devious and difficult as are men’s. She can always change hers…” He stopped, his eyes widened. “Eric,” he said on a gust of a laugh, “Do you know, we’ve been doing all this talking, and I’m not even sure which woman we’re discussing! I’ve been out and about with Ally, of course, but also with Annabelle. Well, I engineered Ally’s invitation and feel responsible for her now, and being seen only with her would cause talk she doesn’t need, and Annabelle—the fact is I’m seeing her for many reasons now.

“Which of the two is it? Or could it be another? I also entertain a gaggle of females whenever I see Ally and Annabelle, to keep people’s attention from being fixed on one woman. And to keep any one woman’s from being fixed on me. So who is it?”

Now Eric grinned. “You don’t know? Good. Just as well. No, better.” He glanced at the improvised alley of settees, and then pointedly to the ropes on the ceiling. “You’re a good friend, Drum. But you should know
how a man needs his pride. See you soon, with better answers, I hope.”

Drum chuckled as Eric saluted him and left with a bounce in his step. Then Drum’s smile vanished.

Eric was right. He was playing with fire, or a woman’s feelings, which was more dangerous. But he didn’t plan on stopping yet, at least not until he understood why he was so fascinated with Ally. Now that he was in London he knew it wasn’t the affection of a patient for his nurse that he felt, or the urge to please that a captive feels for his jailer. She had been both to him, and much more. How much more was what he had to discover.

He smelled honeysuckle, and his pulses raced. When he looked at her he felt soothed—until he looked again, and then he wanted the opposite of soothing. God, he longed to make love to her! He didn’t know exactly why. She was lovely, but there were dozens of beautiful females in London. He could have his choice for a wife, or buy the others. He could send for a skilled courtesan whenever he wanted a lover. And he wanted one often enough. They’d be pleased to serve him even with the cumbersome contraption he had on his leg. But he didn’t want any other now.

He knew as well as she did that there was no future in it. There was just now. He’d learned that was important. He’d had a close encounter with death, making him aware that now was the time a man should snatch at—even if he couldn’t grasp it. Because later always came.

Still, there was no need to stop seeing Alexandria now. There were always ways a clever man could get
around restrictions. They said he couldn’t walk. He learned to walk using his hands. He knew he couldn’t marry her, and she was only for marrying. But he was a civilized man of wonderful restraint. Why not see her? She’d be leaving town in a matter of weeks anyway. Why not keep his word and show her the best time he could? He owed her much more.

He might even find her a worthy husband. That would satisfy his conscience and do her a good turn. Too bad she didn’t fancy Eric, he thought, but didn’t feel badly about it. If she did care for Eric, then he’d have to see them together for the rest of his life. It would be uncomfortable seeing those two as a loving couple, to constantly remind him how he lacked the ability to feel love.

No matter, there were other men. He’d see she met them.

He went back to his exercising. It was a wonderful way to build his body back to health. And to stop thinking, too.

“O
UT
!” G
ILLY
R
YDER SHOUTED
. “L
EAVE MY HOUSE
this minute or I’ll have the servants come and drag you out! How could you? I invite you to stay in my home as my guest and you do this? Go behind my back? Deliberately deceive me? Huh! I’m ashamed of you, Alexandria Gascoyne. I thought you were as good as your word.”

Alexandra hugged little Annalise one more time and then reluctantly gave her back to her beaming nurse-maid. “I couldn’t resist. I know you said I shouldn’t feel I have to entertain the baby, and I don’t. I was just going down to breakfast and I passed the nursery, and she enticed me, Gilly, she honestly did.”

“Going upstairs is a funny way to go down to breakfast,” Gilly said, taking her daughter from the maid’s arms and nuzzling the baby’s neck. “But you’re right. Isn’t she a temptress, though? Lud! I don’t know how I find the willpower to leave her every day.”

Alexandria’s fond smile faded, her expression grew
severe. “Well, that’s what I said, if you remember,” she said briskly. “You’re spending too much time with me. I’m having a wonderful time and you are the best hostess, I’ve seen every sight recommended to me and you have been there with me every minute to be sure of it. It’s past time I went home. I can be ready to go in an hour.”

“Give over,” Gilly snapped. She gave the baby a last kiss and handed her back to her nursery maid. “Come along,” she told Alexandria. “I’m hungry for breakfast and we’ve got some talking to do. It’s rude to argue in front of the servants,” she added after they left the nursery and went down the curving staircase. “If only because they don’t know where to look when you do. They’re not supposed to notice, and we’re not supposed to notice they’re there. For as long as I’ve lived with the Quality, I never understood that. People aren’t furniture, even if they’re paid to pretend to be.”

She stopped on the stair. “It’s not time for you to go home unless you’re unhappy. Are you unhappy here?” she asked, glaring at Alexandria as though daring her to say yes. She went stumping down the stair again without giving her guest a chance to answer.

It wasn’t the first time Alexandria had seen her hostess change from a dainty lady into a swaggering hell-cat and then back again so quickly. She marveled such a tiny little nymph of a woman could so easily do that. But in the few short weeks Alexandria had been a guest here she’d learned that no matter how fragile her hostess looked, there were few women as strong in mind and heart. Or as honest and kind. “No, of course I’m not unhappy,” Alexandria protested.

“Well, I didn’t think so, because I’d have seen it.
Listen,” Gilly said, swinging around again, “in a month Annalise and I will be in the countryside and we’ll have yards of time together. Your visit’s been as much fun for me as for you—only, is it that much fun for you? I know you’re not unhappy, exactly. But the thing of it is…Oh, I’m bad with innuendo,” she grumbled, “never got the hang of that either, though my benefactor, Viscount Sinclair, and Drum,
especially
Drum, are masters at it. I’ll say it straight out,” she said gruffly. “Thing is, I wonder if it’s Drum who’s making you want to go home.”

Gilly’s golden eyes warmed as she gazed at Alexandria, a world of compassion in them. “Seeing someone you love and want but can’t have makes you want to stay and go at the same time,” she said softly. “I know. If you don’t see him, you dream about him. If you do, you wish you weren’t near enough to feel so bad. Oh, I do know.

“When I was a girl I fancied myself in love with Drum,” Gilly confessed. “Well, I did, I idolized him,” she went on, seeing Alexandria’s surprise. “Once I discovered that, it made everything all right. Because I realized I loved him best from afar. He was my ideal, my first male friend from the day the Sinclairs took me in, and my mentor after that. All I ever wanted to do was to please him. But as for him pleasing me? In
that
way? Oh, no. That wouldn’t work at all. When I understood that, at last I was free to love another man.”

She giggled like a girl. “I
adore
my husband, Ally. The best thing Drum ever did for me was to be that ideal, so I could feel calf love for him, then grow up to find another man to love the way a woman is supposed to—as an equal.”

Alexandria’s cheeks went pink. She raised her head in an unconsciously haughty way. “I do understand
equal
. That’s it, isn’t it? Don’t worry. You don’t have to give me a lecture, I have no designs on the earl. I’m sorry you think I do.”

“Oh bother!” Gilly said, stamping her foot, “There’s no talking to you! You’re so full of pride—just like him. But you don’t understand at all. That’s his fatal flaw. Don’t make it yours. Come along, this is getting silly. We can talk more privately downstairs.”

Once in the morning room, Gilly closed the door, plopped in a chair and stared at Alexandria, who seated herself opposite, looking anxious. Gilly didn’t see that so much as she saw a very different woman than the one she’d first met.

Alexandria had been, if not transformed, then brought out of the shadows by the changes a few weeks in London had wrought in her. New clothes, good French soap and a good French hairstylist, a few creams and lotions, and a dab of powder had burnished her. The best cosmetic might have been all the flattery she got from Eric and Damon’s friends, and the other men who clustered round her whenever they went out in public. In the countryside she’d been a handsome woman in spite of her clothes and situation. Now she was a radiant one. She mightn’t be beautiful, like Lady Annabelle and the other incomparables, but she did cut quite a figure. Not only her form, Gilly thought. Because Alexandria’s face, too, was captivating. She had the sort of profile seen on a cameo, clean and aristocratic.

But she wasn’t an aristocrat, and there was the problem. Gilly thought of what she and her husband had talked about the night before, and frowned.

“Drum’s an easy fellow to admire,” she said without preamble, getting on with what she’d promised Damon she’d try to say. “Easier for a woman to become smitten with. We’ve seen it happen before. He’s charming, but so remote he frightens off some faint-hearted females. Others see him as a challenge. And some get all motherly and want to make him their lap dog. Huh! As if that were possible. He’s not handsome but you can’t forget his face—and those eyes! If he doesn’t marry and produce children he should be hanged for it. Damon and I count him one of our best friends, and if he befriends anyone you can be sure that person’s solid too.

“But Ally, he doesn’t seem to be able to love, not like the Romeo-and-Juliet sort of thing, I mean. I’ve never seen it, at any rate, and I’ve known him a long time. It’s not because of a broken heart, or a long-lost love neither,” Gilly said, slipping into slang the way she did when she became agitated. “Ewen Sinclair’s his cousin and he’d have known if it was that. We all talk about it among ourselves, you see. It’s like he’s got a missing part. He has women as friends, and has had more than his share for sport too, because though we’re not supposed to know about all his ladybirds and such, of course we do. And he’ll take up with only the best and most expensive. But he takes them as he finds them, leaves them, and never looks back. I don’t think he’s ever come close to real love!

“He’s stiff-rumped, is what it is, in love with his name—aye, that’s what he really loves! His name and all his fine ancestors. Like that cold fish of a father of his, I suppose. He can’t forget them—well, he did once, when he proposed to me.”

Alexandria’s eyes widened.

Gilly waved a hand dismissively. “Not out of love. It was at a time when I didn’t know my own mind. He did it to save me, and because I amuse him, because we’re old friends, that sort of thing. He’d have been in the soup if I’d agreed! Truth is, much as I love him, the fact is Drum has a terrible flaw. He can’t love a woman the way he does his heritage. Or won’t let himself. He
is
attracted to you. Anyone with half an eye can see it. He likes to talk to you too, anyone can hear that. Well, who wouldn’t? You’re great fun, we’ve become such good friends I wish you could stay on here forever!”

Gilly looked gloomy. “But Ally, you’re not a titled lady, and there’s an end to it. He’ll marry for prestige and pomp, to please his father, and soon, I think. That’s why he’s got his eye on horrible Annabelle these days, though he don’t like her one bit, not really. Who can blame him? Still, she’s got the right ancestors and his father’s pushing her. Brr. That’s going to be a cold match! But they both deserve it, though I wish he didn’t.

“Anyway, there’s no way he can do more than make you want more, which would be dreadful of him, and bad for you. Please know I’d do anything to help you if I could. That’s why I’m being so rude now, I suppose,” she said with a sigh.

Alexandria sat through Gilly’s sermon, feeling her face growing hotter every second it went on. Now her stomach hurt and tears prickled in her eyes. But she didn’t cry. She was deeply humiliated, too deeply to weep. Because Gilly was just trying to be kind, and that was even more embarrassing. “You’re not being rude,” Alexandria said. “I’m sorry I’m so transparent. I wish I weren’t. I thought I wasn’t.”

“Huh. You have a heart. People who care are transparent, that’s all it is.”

“Do you suppose he knows?” Alexandria asked anxiously, wondering if she’d been a total fool.

“Maybe, he’s a knowing one. What’s the difference? All women fall in love with him one way or another eventually. Bizarre, isn’t it?”

“No,” Alexandria said sadly. “So,” she said with a wavering smile, trying to speak without her voice breaking, “I was right. I should go home. Even if he doesn’t guess, I’m embarrassed knowing other people do. Best I go home. The boys need me and I need them.” She started to rise from her seat.

“No, wait,” Gilly cried. “Don’t fly away now. You can’t go home yet. I’m giving that ball for you. It’s important that you go and see how everyone takes to you. Besides, maybe you’ll find someone else.”

“Gilly,” Alexandria said with determination, “listen to
me
now. I may have some feelings for the earl, and I’m sorry you saw them, but I swear I never took them seriously. Never! How could I?” She thought of all the hard reasonings she told herself in the night. She had to voice them now. It was painful but necessary.

“I have no birth, no fortune, no place in this world but my home and that’s just a cottage in the countryside. I don’t have much to offer any man, and nothing for such as he, and I know it.”

“But you’re lovely,” Gill began to say.

Alexandria cut her off. “Oh yes,” she said bitterly. “The London swell who tried to molest me that day at my house called me a ‘fine strapping wench,’ did you know that? That’s not why I hit him. It’s the truth. I’m
not saying I’m hideous but the plain truth is I’m no great beauty.”

She swallowed hard, remembering, not because of the fop who’d tried to kiss her, but because he’d touched on her greatest shame. She knew her attractions, they’d come with age. Bosom and hips were her only assets. She’d never been anything but a plain child, big for her age, competent and serious-looking, which was why Mr. Gascoyne chose her to mind the boys. The administrators never questioned his choice because it was clear she didn’t invite the dangers a prettier little girl might have faced.

“I’m a big-boned countrywoman,” Alexandria went on grimly. “The best anyone can say is I have a pleasant face and good hips for childbearing.” Gilly started to protest, but Alexandria continued, “Think about it, I have. The Earl of Drummond’s used to refined ladies of the ton—or exquisite ladybirds of the night, as you said. We met by accident, literally. That’s the only reason he knows me. Why, if he’d seen me in the street, he’d have passed right on by. If his horse had thrown a shoe instead of a rider, Drum might have stopped at my cottage for directions to a blacksmith and stayed to chat a while because he’s polite. Then he’d have gone on without a backward look, and you know it. But I’d never have forgotten him, even so. It’s his having been helpless in my care that makes him fond of me at all, and only that.”

Gilly looked anguished.

“Life’s not a fairy tale,” Alexandria said as Gilly struggled for words. Alexandria nodded in grim satisfaction, knowing there was no way her hostess could
argue. “You’re kindness itself, Gilly, but there are no fairy godmothers. Don’t feel sorry for me, that’s
not
why I said that. I came to London to look at an earl, if not a queen, so
I
could put myself in my place at last.” She lowered her gaze. “I confess the thought of Drum made the thought of other men less bright to me. But that’s all I hoped to do. I found more, in you and your husband, the sights I saw, and all the kind people I’ve met. I’ll never forget you, but I’m
not
part of your world, and invitations to balls can’t change that. My time here is up, more so now I know I risk being pitied or scorned if I stay.”

“You won’t be either!” Gilly protested. “I had less than nothing when I met the Sinclairs, and look at me now!”

Alexandria smiled. “Yes, look at you. You’re the most beautiful woman I ever saw, I think, and more full of life and laughter than anyone I know. I’m only a woman who rescued a nobleman after an accident. I have my virtues. But I’m not extraordinary. I didn’t even expect as much tribute as I’ve gotten. I’m content.”

“That you are not!”

“In a way, I am. And I’d rather go home with my pride intact than go to a ball and feel as though everyone were looking into my soul and pitying me.”

“I should have ripped my tongue out!” Gilly cried. “But I was only trying to give you good counsel.”

“You did.”

“Please stay for my party,” Gilly pleaded, “or I’ll never forgive myself. Don’t worry about what people think. You’re right when you say you aren’t part of their world. Lucky you. Those people would gossip about a saint, it’s what they live for. As to that, so what
if anyone thinks you care for Drum? What a tiny scrap of gossip that would be. Half the females who meet him do, and what’s new about that? Wouldn’t interest them above an hour, I promise.”