Seduction in Mind (23 page)

After a time, Sam decided on an antique silver rattle. It was prettily wrapped, the clerk said, "Congratulations, sir," with a degree of innuendo Sam ignored, and soon the men were standing outside Aspreys, their mission accomplished. "Now some flowers, I think," Sam said, looking across the street at a fashionable florist shop.

"For the baby?" Eddie inquired, his expertise in these matters nonexistent.

"No, for Alex." Sam pursed his mouth. "I hadn't thought about the baby—I suppose I should bring some for the child… and the mother as well."

"Do you even know the mother?"

"Of course I know her. She's Alex's sister-in-law," Sam said as though Eddie were dense. "I wonder where they live?" Apparently, he didn't perceive the two statements as incompatible.

In short order three bouquets were purchased, a small nosegay of white roses and two boxes of pink roses. Now the question remained—where to deliver them?

"Leighton will know," Sam decided.

When Sam asked Sir Leighton for Tina's address, the artist masked his surprise. Ranelagh had met Alex two days earlier and now he was bringing gifts to her relative? There were astonishing implications in this seemingly polite ritual.

But then, Alex
was
astonishing.

Sam, on the other hand, appeared unconscious of the wonder his actions provoked. After a few moments, he thanked Leighton for the address, declined his offer of a drink, and bid him good-bye with a marked casualness.

On reentering his carriage, Sam addressed Eddie. "I'll drop you off at the Marlborough Club if you like, or would you prefer Hattie's?"

"Don't I get to see the new baby?" Eddie looked pained.

"No. When did you begin to like babies anyway?"

"The same time you did. And you're not being very friendly," Eddie grumbled. "Didn't I just save you from your father?"

"I believe I've saved you a number of times as well, from circumstances a trifle more daunting than my father's visit. Like when I helped you out of the second-story window at Lady Waddell's, or that rather dicey incident when you needed me to back you up against Mordaunt's wrath when he found you with—"

"Point taken," Eddie conceded. "But if you won't let me watch this interesting spectacle unfold, tell me, at least, why the hell are you doing this?"

"Because I want to see her."

"Like you wanted to see the harem in Constantinople?"

Sam's expression was unreadable for a moment, and then he smiled. "Something like that."

The Ionideses lived south of the City, where the family had built a number of homes at Briana Hills. According to Leighton, the new mother resided in a Florentine-style villa just a stone's throw from the family mansion.

After reaching the appropriate house in a landscape dotted with palatial homes, Sam descended from his carriage and stood for a moment on the gravel drive, surveying the beauty of the landscaped grounds. Flowers ran riot in a setting no doubt made to look natural by an army of gardeners, the colorful blossoms massed in a brilliant palette against the green of the hills. No wonder Alex's garden had been so lush, Sam thought.

A footman descended the long bank of steps and bowed before him. "Welcome to Briana Hills, sir."

"I've come to see Miss Alexandra Ionides. Is she here?"

"Yes, sir. Who shall I say is calling?"

"Viscount Ranelagh. I have some flowers in my carriage that should be brought inside."

"Very good, sir." The footman lifted his hand and a page boy came running out from behind a clipped boxwood hedge. After giving the boy instructions, he said, "This way, Lord Ranelagh. I'll see if Miss Alex is available."

A sense of excitement and bustle was immediately apparent as Sam stepped into a resplendent entrance hall of pink marble, jewel-encrusted icons, and plush Oriental carpets, adding an exotic splendor to the setting. Servants were running up and down the stairs, the sound of doors slamming and snatches of conversation echoed down the staircase from the floor above, and then suddenly the thin, high wail of a baby pierced the air.

Sam looked at the footman. "The child has arrived."

"Only minutes ago, sir. The household is in chaos. If you'll wait in the drawing room"—the footman indicated an open doorway to the left—"I'll find Miss Alex."

"Don't impose on her if she's busy. I'm not in a hurry."

"Very good, sir. I'll have tea brought in to you."

"That won't be necessary."

" Brandy, perhaps ? "

Sam smiled. "Excellent." He waved the man away. "I can find my way in." He could see the staff was in disarray. No butler was in evidence. As he walked into the sunny drawing room, he felt oddly pleased that the child had arrived in apparently good health. A kind of rare happiness overcame him, as though he were somehow involved in the joyful events of the day. A more cynical person might credit his happiness to Miss Ionides's imminent arrival. Not of an introspective nature, however, the viscount felt only unalloyed pleasure.

His brandy arrived in the care of another page boy, who gazed at him with wide-eyed speculation. "Miss Alex is still busy, sir. It might be some time till she can see you."

"Tell her it's not a problem. My schedule is free."

"Yes, sir." But the boy continued to stare as though Sam were an alien creature.

"Is there more?" Sam asked, entertained by the young boy's inspection.

"They're arguing about you," the youngster replied artlessly.

"They?"

"Miss Alex's ma and her."

"Ah…" Apparently, not only his father was disturbed by their acquaintance. A hint of amusement shone in Sam's eyes. "Who do you suppose will win?"

"Miss Alex."

"No equivocation?"

The boy looked at him blankly.

"You're sure?" Sam translated his query into understandable English.

The boy's face lit up. "Oh, there ain't no question o' that. Miss Alex always gets what she wants."

Sam suppressed his urge to smile. He'd experienced that phenomenon firsthand. "In that case, please tell Miss Alex I await her convenience. And offer my congratulations on the new baby."

"Yes, sir. Everyone be right happy about the baby, what with it comin' early and all."

"I'm sure they are. Is it a boy or a girl?"

"A girl, and everyone's sayin' it's about time, seein' how they got four boys already."

"This is indeed a happy day, then." The viscount's well-being continued apace.

"It is fer sure. I'll go tell Miss Alex you be waitin' as long as it takes."

"Thank you." He handed the boy a sovereign.

"They said you was a rich cove."

Sam's brows rose.

"The footmens."

His brows lowered, mildly relieved. He preferred not being discussed in those terms by the delectable Miss Ionides.

"It's gonna take a while," the boy warned.

Sam smiled. "I don't care."

And he found he didn't, despite the fact he sat alone in the drawing room for a very long time. He had plenty of brandy, Alex was close, and sometime today he'd see her.

How simple life had become when pleasure was measured by the availability of an auburn-haired lady, when just knowing she was near brought a smile to his lips.

"You shouldn't have come here."

Alex's sharp voice shattered his blissful reverie. He looked up to see her closing the drawing room doors behind her, the rigidity of her spine matching the tartness of her tone.

"I know I shouldn't have," he said, rising from his chair. "I'm sorry."

She turned to him, her cheeks flushed, her gown rumpled, her hair tumbled down her shoulders.

"This is damnably awkward, Ranelagh." She ran a hand over her disheveled hair. She couldn't help noticing that he looked beautifully point-device in superbly tailored charcoal-gray superfine.

"My apologies again. Is the baby healthy?"

A smile warmed her expression. "Yes… thankfully. But you have to go."

"I know. I heard you and your mother were arguing about my presence."

"Fillippo told you, I suppose."

"If he's the blond page boy—yes. But I had to see you."

"My family doesn't approve. You know that. You're embarrassing me."

"Talk to me for five minutes and I'll leave."

"I don't need another Harry, Sam. I don't
want
one."

"Am I like him?" His dark gaze was bland, faintly mocking.

He was so damnably assured, she thought, the legions of women no doubt contributing to his confidence. "No, you're not," she said, peevish and ruffled, "and if you dare be smug, I'll hit you."

"You're not like any other woman I've ever known." His voice was ceremoniously polite. "And I wouldn't dream of being smug."

"I'm not sure I like the comparison."

"Truth to tell, neither do I. I wish you
were
like all the others. I'd be drinking at the club right now instead of chasing after you and feeling more like Harry than I'd wish."

"And I wish
you
were like Harry so I could deal with you in a rational way."

"Nothing about this is rational." He glanced around the room, as if in emphasis. "I had to get your direction from Leighton."

"Oh, good. Now everyone will know."

"They do already. My father called on me this afternoon and your name came up almost immediately."

"Maybe he and my mother could share their complaints."

Sam laughed and held open his arms. "Come here, darling. I have no complaints at all."

She didn't move. "Am I supposed to forgive your audacity and fall into your arms just like that?"

"I wish you would," he replied, letting his hands fall to his sides. "I feel strangely lost without you."

"Or perhaps you're only in your pursuit-of-pleasure mode."

He tipped his head faintly. "That wouldn't require a visit to your brother's house."

He was right, of course. Any number of amusements were available in London. She sighed softly.

"I brought the baby a present." He pulled the small gift from his pocket and smiled at her. "Does that help put me in your good graces?"

"You're too much in my good graces," she said. "That's the problem."

"It doesn't have to be a problem right now," he said, setting the gift down on a table. "Let me hold you for a moment. Please?"

"I shouldn't. Someone might come in."

"You can pretend you fainted in my arms," he said with a grin.

"I'm sure my family would accept that fiction," she replied, smiling back.

"Come," he cajoled, opening his arms again, and she went to him because she loved being held in his arms, as she loved everything about him. And as he enfolded her in an embrace, she leaned into his strong body, smiled up at him, and allowed herself to enjoy the pleasure. "Your flowers were beautiful," she said. "The nosegay is hanging from the baby's cradle and Tina is sure you're in love, but then, she loves love in any form whatsoever."

His glance was amused. "Ah… an advocate."

"I wouldn't normally bring up the subject of love with you, but I just finished arguing with my mother for the better part of an hour, and I'm no longer in the most civil mood, and
she
certainly would like to know. Mother's old-fashioned, and opposed to men like you, but then, you know that already." She blew out a large breath. "Forgive me… I'm tired and undone and maybe half sad because the baby's so beautiful and not mine and I shouldn't have asked you something so stupid. But what in the world
did
bring you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

She wrinkled her nose. "And it couldn't wait?"

"It didn't seem like it could wait."

Her gaze was direct. "You've lived too long without restraints."

He chuckled softly. "And you haven't?"

"I don't think I'd come calling at the house of my lover's brother, who, by the way, said pointedly that he's never met you and said more pointedly that he had no intention of meeting you today either."

"When can you leave?"

"Sam! Are you deaf? Don't you understand the damnable stir you've caused?"

"I understand. Really I do, but you have to sleep eventually, and I was thinking I could just wait for you outside in my carriage and when you finally feel the need to sleep, you could sleep with me."

"In your carriage?"

"In my carriage if you wish, but I was thinking possibly at the Adelphi, or if you need to be close by, at some inn."

"You'd wait?"

"Until hell freezes over."

The silence was so profound after his pronouncement, the ticking of the clock sounded like a hammer on an anvil.

"I mean it," he said softly.

"But you don't know why."

"Do I have to?"

Her mouth twitched into a half-smile. "I just thought one of us should."

"I don't think it's a requirement."

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, debating the ramifications if she did what he proposed. "I couldn't slip away until very late. And even then I'm not sure," she equivocated.

"I don't care how late it is."

"I won't have time to bathe."

"Lord, Alex." He was incredulous. "The clerk at Aspreys is even now spreading gossip about my purchase there today. Not to mention Eddie's at the Marlborough Club, regaling my friends with the same story. Your servants are probably laying bets on whether I leave with or without my eyes scratched out, while your family is ready to pull up the drawbridge. Do you think I care whether you bathe or not?"

"How sweet," she said, smiling up at him. "I don't think the world realizes how sweet you are."

"I'm not sweet, darling. I'm obsessed." Lifting her away, he set her down at a safe distance. "Now go back upstairs before I do something rash; you'll be able to join me that much sooner."

"Did I say I'd join you?" she teased.

"Did you think I was giving you a choice?" he said, not teasing in the least.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "You're extremely brave in the midst of my family."

"I think the word is single-minded." His fleeting grin was constrained. "I'll be outside when you're ready."

"Around the curve of the drive, if you don't mind. Then I won't have to listen to my mother's exhortations. I'm going to tell her you left."