Julianne MacLean (5 page)

Damien, on the other hand, wished he could get her one. He wouldn’t steal it, of course. He would pay for it. He would just like to see her face when she tasted it. He’d like to watch her eyes. And her tongue and lips.

He shook his head at himself, and headed for the door, keeping his footsteps light. It was probably a good thing they were leaving here today and heading back to civilization. Because Damien was beginning to find Miss Wilson far more appealing than he should.

S
hortly before noon, Adele went outside to meet Lord Alcester, who was riding into the yard on his big, black horse. He swung down from the high saddle and landed gracefully on the ground. A coach was behind him, rumbling slowly up the hill.

His hair was like a wild mane around his face, his coat blowing in the wind. It was difficult to imagine that this man was related by blood to her fiancé. They were so remarkably different in every way. Harold had red hair, and though he was tall, he was very slender, with small hands. Damien’s hands were huge. They were a horseman’s hands.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he said. “You’ll catch your death.”

“I’ve been stuck in there for three days. I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

He glanced down at her feet, which were bare. “Isn’t it a little chilly to be a wood nymph this morning?”

She met his smiling gaze and recognized the power of his charm. It was no wonder he had so many eager lady friends. “You know I have no shoes.”

“Yes, I know. There are stockings and shoes for you in the coach, which isn’t far behind.”

She turned and saw it slowly rolling its way up the hill. Lord Alcester was very good at taking care of things, she realized. It was easy to rely on him. “Thank you.”

She limped beside him while he led his horse to the trough.

“I know this is unpleasant business, Miss Wilson, but someone will be along to collect the body after we’re gone, and we’ll have to speak to the magistrate in the village tonight. He’s already given me his word he’ll keep it quiet, and I trust him. Will you be able to discuss it?”

“Of course.”

“How is your wound, by the way?” he asked.

Immediately, a vision of his hands on her leg jolted her. She forcefully pushed the recollection away. “It feels a bit better this morning. It’s not so difficult to walk.”

His eyes were downcast as he watched his horse drink from the nearly overflowing trough. The wind blew a part in his thick, black hair and revealed dark brows against his sun-
bronzed skin. If Adele were an artist, she would paint him as Michael, the warrior angel. She had seen a statue of Michael in Paris once, when she had spent time there with her sisters, learning to speak French. She had never forgotten it. She often dreamed about that statue.

For some reason, she thought of Lord Alcester’s mistress at that moment, the famous actress. From what Sophia had said, the woman was very beautiful and very liberal. She enjoyed taking lovers, and by all accounts, she was just the kind of woman Lord Alcester desired. Theirs was purportedly a passionate love affair.

It was hard for Adele to imagine any woman being so free, not worrying about duty or correct behavior. To even
think
about such a woman—to have any connection to her whatsoever—seemed strange for Adele, who had led an exceedingly sheltered and proper life. She didn’t even
know
anyone who’d had a “lover.”

She supposed, however, that many women would forget what was proper when tempted by a man as attractive as Lord Alcester. He was like no other man she had ever met before. Everything about him was interesting and alluring—his eyes were seductive, his lips sinful. She might be innocent, but she could at least recognize
that
.

“I also sent a wire to Harold,” he said, “to inform him that you’re safe, and that he can expect you in two days.”

“I hope he’ll pass that message on to my mother. She must be worried sick.”

“From what I understand, your mother has
been in London with your sister, and she’ll be traveling by train to meet us in two days. We’ll travel by coach and check into an inn this evening. We’ll tell everyone we encounter that you are my sister-in-law.” Lord Alcester tethered his horse to the post next to the trough. “And I’m pleased to say you can anticipate a hearty dinner by a warm fire this evening.”

“I can hardly wait.”

Lord Alcester walked to the edge of the yard. “Here comes the coach.”

A few minutes later, it pulled up in front, and Adele limped toward it. She climbed in, pleased by the interior of the vehicle with its soft, blue upholstery. A box with a ribbon around it sat on the seat.

Lord Alcester stood at the open door, his large, masculine hand gripping the latch. “Shoes and stockings,” he said.

Adele picked it up and held it on her lap. “Thank you.”

While she gazed at his handsome face in the sunlight, she felt almost entranced. In an effort to distract herself, she peered out at his horse, still tethered by the trough. “You’re lucky you get to ride.”

“You like to ride?” he asked, sounding surprised.

“Yes. I sold my hair when I was seven to keep my father from selling our pony when we couldn’t afford to keep her. I just couldn’t live without her, or without the freedom to explore the woods where we lived.”

He lifted his chin, gesturing toward his own horse. “We have something in common. I’ve been leasing out my London house to keep
him
.”

Adele’s eyebrows lifted.

“Do you still have that pony you loved so much?” he asked.

“No. She died when I was nine. I explored the woods on foot after that. Until we moved to the city, of course.”

He hesitated at the door for a moment. “You’ll be glad to hear that Osulton is surrounded by forest, and the stable is stocked with thoroughbreds.”

“Really? Harold didn’t mention that. I can’t wait to get there.”

He nodded. “Signal if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Lord Alcester closed the door. She watched him from the window as he waved to the driver and strode toward his own horse. He swung himself up into the saddle and led the way out of the yard.

The coach slowly turned around, and before Adele knew it, she was rocking back and forth on the seat as they made their way down the hill and back to real life. Though she wasn’t sure anything would ever be completely normal again.

Osulton Manor

“He found her! She’s safe and on her way home!”

Eustacia waved the telegram over her head as she dashed into the brightly lit conservatory. Or rather, the brightly lit
laboratory
, as it had been cleared of plants a number of years ago and lovingly dedicated to the pursuit of chemical science.

Harold lifted his gaze from the beaker of bubbling liquid that stood before him. His protective eyewear was covered in steam, so he pushed the large glasses off his face to rest on top of his curly, red hair. “I beg your pardon, Mother? Did you say she was safe?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Are you referring to Miss Wilson?” he asked.

His mother skidded to a halt before him. “Of course I am, you silly, silly man! She’s safe! Damien has procured her!”

He took the telegram that his mother held out to him and read it. “Well, that is indeed good news. I told you Damien was the right man for the job.”

“Yes, you were right as always. He no doubt put that despicable kidnapper in his place and…Well, let’s not go into that. We know how Damien can put up a good fight. The point is, they’re on their way home! They’ll be here in two days.”

“Two days. You don’t say.”

“I do say, Harold. You’ll have to get a haircut.”

“Yes, I believe you’re right.”

“And we must plan a special dinner in Miss Wilson’s honor. She is the future Lady Osulton, after all. Would roast lamb do? Or do you think
she would prefer beef? I believe Americans are beef eaters, are they not? You were there. You should know. Or perhaps they eat so much of it, it’s become a bore. Oh, Harold, what should it be?”

Harold looked down at his beaker. The bubbles had disappeared. “I don’t know, Mother. You decide.” He slid his protective eyewear back down over his eyes and leaned close. “What the devil happened?” he muttered to himself. “They were there a minute ago.”

That evening at the inn, after Adele had bathed and spoken to the magistrate, she prepared for supper. She had to don the same homespun dress she’d been wearing for the past three days, but at least she felt clean.

She left her bedchamber and went to the dining room. A movement to her left caught her eye, and she spotted Lord Alcester making his way across the room to greet her. He offered his arm. “Good evening, Miss Wilson. Our table is this way.”

He had bathed, too, and shaved. His hair, still damp, was slicked back off his face. He looked…Well, he looked…

Different.

He escorted her to a table in the far corner. It was clothed in white, with a vase of fresh daisies in the center next to a bottle of wine. A candle burned in a small jar.

Adele stopped before the table and stared down at it. “I can’t begin to describe how good it feels to be among civilized people again, and to
look at such a lovely table laid out with such care.” She gazed up at him. “I’ve been eating turnip and beef in a pan for the past three days.”

He nodded with understanding, then moved behind her to pull out her chair. “Then it will be my pleasure this evening, Miss Wilson, to provide you with what you’ve been missing. I’m happy to report that the food here is excellent.
Everything
is done with care.” He took his seat opposite her. “I took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine. I hope you’ll join me in a toast.”

“I’d be delighted.”

He poured her a glass, then lifted his own. “To life and marriage.”

“To both.”

Over the next hour, they discussed light topics—the artwork in the dining room, the population of the village and surrounding areas, the weather, of course, and the route they would take to reach Osulton Manor in the most efficient time.

Soon the food arrived, and they enjoyed their dinner while the pink hue of twilight streamed in through the lace-covered window and lent a relaxed, magical atmosphere to the room. Their conversation relaxed as well, as they meandered into more personal topics, without ever realizing the transition had occurred.

“So you know how Harold and I met,” Adele said, recalling her curiosity about this man the night before when she had watched him falling asleep. “Now tell me a little about yourself, Lord Alcester. You wear no wedding ring. How
have you managed to avoid marriage for so long?”

It was a bold question, she knew, but she didn’t feel quite herself. This was not her life, she supposed. It was “Adele on an Adventure.”

“It’s been no small feat, I assure you,” he replied. “Both my aunt and my grandmother would like to see me attached as soon as possible, and they become more and more determined each year. I predict my aunt and your mother will get along famously. They’ll be two kindred spirits, matchmaking to their heart’s delight.”

Adele imagined what his life was like as an English nobleman, where a sense of duty was probably fed into his veins from infancy onward. “I suppose it’s your goal in life, isn’t it, to make a good marriage and produce heirs?”

Good God. Produce heirs? She was feeling bold, not scandalous. Perhaps she’d had too much wine.

“Yes, exactly. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I had best get to it. I’m not getting any younger.” With a wicked grin that made her squirm in her chair, he picked up the bottle and tipped it over her glass, but she firmly held up a hand.

“No, thank you, I’ve had enough. Please feel free to finish it.”

He didn’t argue. He poured the rest of the wine into his own glass and took another sip. He didn’t seem the least bit affected by it. Quite unlike herself.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he said, “I adore my
aunt and grandmother, and nothing would please me more than to make them happy, but I have yet to discover the one woman who makes me…” He paused. The candlelight flickered between them. “The one who makes me want to be a husband. I don’t want to marry just anyone and be miserable. That doesn’t do anyone any good.”

“Well, happiness is indeed an important thing to consider,” she said, feeling a great need to bring her fiancé into this conversation. “
Harold
, for instance, has made me indescribably happy on so many occasions.”

“Has he indeed? In what way, may I ask? Perhaps I should consult him in matters of romance. It sounds as if he could provide some helpful advice.”

Adele stared at the electrifying glimmer in his eyes that almost seemed to challenge her. She noticed suddenly that they were both leaning forward with their elbows on the table. She sat back and couldn’t help reaching for her wine again.

“I hardly think
you
need advice, my lord. I know about your reputation with women.” She surprised herself with that comment.

“Do you, now? Where in the world would you hear such a thing? Does news like that reach America?”

“My sister told me. She mentioned it in a letter when Harold was still in America.”

“Well.” He took a deep swig of wine, then casually shrugged.

“You’re not denying it,” Adele said, shocked in some ways, but not in others. Lord Alcester didn’t seem all that concerned with what was proper. He was like no one she’d ever met.

“No, I am not denying it, because it’s all true. I am without a doubt the worst scoundrel in London. You had best keep your distance.”

He smiled with riveting splendor, and
boom
, there it was in full force. The pounding allure that her sister had described, and she herself had witnessed on so many occasions leading up to this one. The sweet, seductive power that even Adele—inexperienced as she was with men—could recognize. The very qualities that made him notorious. A strangely pleasant, dizzying haze moved over her thoughts as she stared at him.

The server came and took their plates away. As soon as she was gone, Adele became aware of her heart beating shockingly fast. An unfamiliar thrill was rippling through her veins.

She didn’t like it.

Feeling shaken by her body’s response to Lord Alcester, she thrust the haze away and forced her thoughts back to their earlier conversation. “Perhaps you haven’t married because you simply haven’t met the right woman yet,” she said, struggling to recover her calm. “When you do, everything will seem effortless, and you will defy your reputation and find the happiness that you seek.”