Stroke of Midnight (14 page)

All of a sudden a prickling at the back of her neck alerted her that Alex was standing at her shoulder. His footsteps on the carpet had been silent. Gripping the ceramic figurine of a shepherdess, she turned to look at him. “Was there something else, Lord Copley?”

“I merely had a question. If you promise not to hurl that at me.”

“What?” She put down the statuette. “Don’t be absurd.”

He rubbed his forefinger along his scar. “You can’t blame a man for being careful.”

Laura pretended not to notice the teasing glint in his eyes—or the warmth it provoked inside herself. Instead, she wondered if the scar was a nuisance when he shaved. As a little girl, she’d been fascinated by the sight of her father gliding the razor through the lathered soap on his face. But she shouldn’t be thinking of Alex stripped to the waist with a towel slung over his bare shoulder. “What did you want to know?”

“Am I correct in presuming you’re the one who cleared the floor in here?” he asked.

“Yes. With your permission, I’d like to put some of these smaller objects into storage, too.”

“It’s my aunt’s permission you’ll need, not mine.”

“Nevertheless, I’m asking
you
.” Laura gave him a challenging stare. “I wouldn’t wish to be accused of stealing them.”

With a wry chuckle, Alex glanced back over his shoulder at Lady Josephine, who was too enamored with the puppy to heed their quiet conversation. “Rest assured, I’ll not complain if some of these things go missing. But how will you manage it? Aunt Josie is very attached to all the clutter. Most are gifts from my late uncle.”

“She won’t miss a few items here and there. If she does, I’ll bring that piece back. But if I remove things gradually, she isn’t likely to even notice.”

His gaze lingered a moment on her lips. “A brilliant strategy, Miss Brown. I should have thought of it myself. You’re taking excellent care of my aunt, and for that I’m in your debt.”

Strolling away, he moved a chair closer to the chaise and sat down to chat with his aunt. The exchange left a glow of pleasure inside Laura. But she had been the recipient of his easy charm too many times to be fooled by him again. It was important to remember that she had every reason to despise the Earl of Copley.

Thankfully, his visit would be ending soon. Lady Josephine liked to eat dinner unfashionably early, and a scoundrel like him surely had more exciting plans for the evening than tarrying with his dotty old aunt.

Chapter 13

“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve invited myself to dinner,” Alex said as he settled Lady Josephine at the head of the long table. “On such an important occasion, it would be a pity for you to dine with only a paid companion for company.”

Lady Josephine smiled up at him. “You’re always welcome here, my dear boy.”

As Laura seated herself at her ladyship’s right hand, she felt compelled to respond to his jibe. “It must be quite lowering for an earl to share a table with the hired help. I’d be happy to take a tray in my room if you prefer, my lord.”

“Stay right where you are, Miss Brown. We need at least three people to properly call this a party.” His dark eyes gleaming in the candlelight, Alex sat down in the opposite chair and turned to his aunt. “Since this is a birthday dinner, don’t you think Miss Brown ought to put her spectacles aside? They make her appear far too solemn.”

“Oh!” Lady Josephine said, peering at Laura. “Why, I do believe you’re right. She has such lovely blue eyes.”

“Simply gorgeous,” he agreed. “Go on, Miss Brown, take off the eyeglasses.”

As one footman poured a burgundy wine and another ladled out bowls of beef consommé, she bristled at Alex’s high-handed manipulation of her. But Lady Josephine’s jovial features warned Laura not to make a fuss and spoil the celebration. She removed the spectacles and placed them near the saltcellar in the center of the table.

“There,” she said. “Is that better?”

But her mistress wasn’t listening. A look of dismay crossed the old woman’s face, and she glanced around the dining chamber in alarm. “Oh, dear, where is Charles?”

Alex placed his hand over hers, his skin tanned against the pristine white of the table linens. “I’m afraid Uncle Charles isn’t with us anymore.”

The old woman shook her head. “No, I mean my
little
Charles, my baby.”

“Charlie,” Laura clarified. “Never fear, he’s in the kitchen, gnawing on a bone that Cook found for him.”

“And enjoying a very fine dinner of scraps,” Alex added. “The way the servants were fawning over him, I suspect he’ll grow fat very quickly.”

Her fretfulness fading, Lady Josephine chortled. “Fat and jolly just like his new mama.” She picked up her soup spoon. “Did I ever tell you about the sweet little pup that Charles and I brought back from our honeymoon? Such a skinny mongrel she was at first, and quite mischievous, too. Why, she stole the breakfast sausage right off my plate on our terrace in Rome. It took quite a bit of coaxing for Charles to convince her to eat out of his hand…”

As she rambled on during the soup course, Laura sipped the delicious burgundy and marveled at the clarity of Lady Josephine’s memories of the distant past. Her mind seemed perfectly normal whenever she was reminiscing. It was only current events that confused her.

The elderly woman continued to chatter about several other pets she’d owned. Having never been blessed with children, apparently she and her beloved Charles had lavished all their love on a menagerie of dogs. Laura had heard some of the stories already, so surely Alex must have, too, though he never gave any sign of it. He listened attentively and offered a comment every now and then. By asking questions, he encouraged his aunt to do most of the talking.

At least until she brought up an anecdote from his past.

“You loved to play with my dogs, remember? I always thought it a pity that you weren’t permitted any pets.”

“Not permitted?” Laura said with a surprised glance at Alex.

He shrugged. “I went off to boarding school at age eight. When would I have had time for a dog?”

“But you
did
want one.” Her smile faltering, Lady Josephine held her silver fork without touching the poached fish on her plate. She looked at Laura. “My brother-in-law—Alexander’s father—despised animals and forbade any in his house. Oh, it was such a dreadful mistake for Blanche to bring that dear little spaniel home—”

“I fear we may be boring Miss Brown with all these stories about people she never knew,” Alex broke in. “Perhaps we should allow
her
a chance to speak. She could tell us about her time in Portugal.”

The candlelight revealed a trace of tension in his jaw. Curious as to why he seemed anxious to distract Lady Josephine, Laura said, “I’d much rather hear about
you
, Lord Copley. My lady, do continue with your account. Who is Blanche?”

“Why, my younger sister. She was Alexander’s mother, Lady Copley. Such a flighty, whimsical creature my sister was, quite the opposite of her stern husband! She was prone to acting on impulse without a care for the consequences. It was quite shocking the way the two of them would scream at each other! I daresay poor Alexander witnessed far too many quarrels in his time.”

Laura looked to him for confirmation, but he merely frowned into his wineglass, his fingers twirling the stem. “Did I hear you mention a spaniel, my lady? Was it a dog like Charlie?”

“Indeed so! You see, Blanche gave a puppy to Alexander for his seventh birthday. When his father found out, there was a fearful row and he … he kicked the puppy down the stairs and broke its hind leg.” Lady Josephine’s eyes grew watery. “Alexander tried to stop him, but his father struck him, too. I found the child cowering on the landing, trying to protect his little dog from my shouting brother-in-law.” She sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a corner of her linen serviette.

The savory fish turned to ash in Laura’s mouth, and she had to take a drink of wine in order to swallow. “I’m so sorry,” she told Alex. “I never knew about this.”

He flashed that ironic smile she’d seen him employ to dampen talk on a topic not to his liking. “It was a long time ago. I scarcely remember the incident.”

Was that true? Or did he just prefer not to speak of something that had caused him such pain?

Laura had never realized it before, but he had a skill for directing the flow of conversation away from himself. Ten years ago, he’d dazzled her with his witty banter. She had been naive enough to believe they were close companions without any secrets between them. But now she could see he’d revealed only the most superficial generalities about his past.

Perhaps that was why his betrayal had come as such a shock. She had never truly
known
him.

Laura told herself to drop the subject. Yet she wanted to hear the rest. It wouldn’t come from Alex, so she addressed Lady Josephine. “You said you found your nephew guarding the injured puppy. What happened then?”

“I did what I could to help, of course. Blanche was screaming like a banshee, so I sent Alexander up to the nursery with his governess. Then I took the dog home and nursed him back to health. His name was … was … oh, dear, I’ve quite forgotten.” Her lower lip wobbling, Lady Josephine looked at Alex in supplication.

“Buttons, if I’m not mistaken.” His expression cool, he regarded his aunt. “Pray don’t fret anymore. All’s well that ends well. Because of you, I was able to visit him here from time to time.”

“That was a dreadful thing for you to witness, my lord,” Laura said in an attempt to elicit a reaction from him.

“We’ve all had experiences we’d as soon forget. I’m sure even you have, Miss Brown.”

For once, she felt no offense at his mocking jab. Her heart ached for the mistreated boy that he had once been. With two such imprudent parents, he must have had a difficult childhood. Could that be the source of the aloofness she often glimpsed behind his illustrious charm?

It didn’t matter, Laura told herself.
He
didn’t matter. The moment she proved who had really stolen the Blue Moon diamond, she would be gone from this house. Gone from his life forever.

“There’ll be no more gloomy tales tonight,” Alex said firmly, motioning to a footman to replenish their wine. He lifted his glass in a salute to Lady Josephine. “I’d like to propose a toast to my favorite aunt. May she enjoy many more birthdays to come.”

Lady Josephine perked up at once, all trace of sadness vanishing from her heavily wrinkled face. Alex asked her to name the favorite gifts she’d received from his uncle Charles, and she launched into a litany of her most beloved knickknacks. Laura listened closely so that she wouldn’t put anything into storage that was a favorite of her ladyship.

Alex seemed determined to keep the conversation light, making droll remarks designed to elicit laughter from his aunt. Initially, Laura had hoped to slip in a few casual questions about certain members of society, but now she thought better of it. It wouldn’t do to take the risk of upsetting Lady Josephine again on her birthday.

Laura gave herself up to enjoying the company and the superlative feast. For many years she had eaten only plain country fare prepared by her own limited culinary skills. Tonight, Cook had outdone herself, perhaps to impress the earl. There were several more courses, a lamb cutlet with tiny peas and pearl onions, along with thinly sliced golden potatoes, and finally a gooseberry tart piled high with fluffy whipped cream. The wine flowed freely and a footman kept their glasses filled, including a sparkling white to accompany the dessert.

By the end of the meal, Lady Josephine’s eyes were drooping. She required both her cane and her nephew’s assistance in order to hobble to the arched doorway. There she paused, clinging to Alex’s arm. “I must fetch my baby from the kitchen,” she said plaintively. “He shouldn’t be all alone tonight without his mama.”

“John will bring him to you,” he said with a nod to one of the footmen, who set off at a trot down the corridor that led to the cellar workrooms. Then Alex escorted his aunt to the staircase.

Following them, Laura gripped the mahogany banister with one hand and her skirt with the other. Her head swam a little from the uncustomary amount of wine, and she had to concentrate to keep from tripping on the hem of her gown. It was difficult, for her gaze kept straying to Alex just a few steps ahead of her.

How she longed to comb her fingers through the dark brown hair that curled slightly over the back of his collar. She remembered the feel of it, thick and silken, just as she remembered the solidity of his body held against hers. She furtively admired the breadth of his shoulders, and the play of muscles beneath his formfitting trousers. Whatever his character faults—and she couldn’t quite recall them in her woozy state—his physique was sheer perfection. Her fingers itched for a sketchpad and pencil to capture all that masculine splendor on paper.

It would be even more inspiring to draw him naked.

The scandalous notion weakened her knees so that she nearly stumbled on the top step. Grabbing hold of the newel post, Laura scolded herself. How shocking that her mind would stray to such an indecent reflection about a man whose very nature she abhorred.

Yet did she truly abhor him? No, not completely. He had been very kind and generous to his aunt today.

With Lady Josephine leaning on his arm, Alex led the way down the lamp-lit corridor. He kept his pace slow to accommodate the old woman’s unsteady gait. Laura felt certain that he loved his aunt—and yes, that was something in his favor.

Within moments of their arrival at her bedchamber, the footman arrived carrying the spaniel, followed by a maid to help her ladyship prepare for bed. A joyous reunion ensued between mistress and puppy, and it was hard to tell which of the two was more ecstatic. Then Alex kissed his aunt’s cheek, promising to stop by again soon to check on the dog.

He afforded Laura only a nod and a brief stare before striding out of the bedchamber.

While Lady Josephine carried the puppy into the dressing room, Laura frowned at the open door where Alex had vanished. Was he heading off for a night of carousing? The evening was still young. The several discordantly ticking clocks showed the time to be barely half past nine.