"Oh, I wouldn't deprive you of such a tender keepsake. Surely you treasure his vivid remembrance of that evening in the rose garden. It is all that keeps him going, after all."
Alex snatched it back from him as she should have done before he'd read it. A hard toss sent it floating into the chest and she slammed the lid against the sight of it.
"Good-bye, Mr. Blackburn. Let me know if I can be of assistance to you in the future." The silence behind her stretched her nerves thin. "What?"
A shush of fabric as he shifted. Then nothing.
"What?"
"I did not kiss you, or . . . I did not make love to you as a means to get information."
"Really?"
He cursed. It sounded like a curse, anyway, though it wasn't English. Gaelic, she guessed. Of course, she didn't really think he'd used her, but better he think that the cause of her anger than injured pride and hurt feelings.
"I realize you do not know me well," he murmured from close behind her. "But I would never do that. I meant to not touch you at all, but I could not help myself."
A shiver of pleasure slid over her spine at the honest heat in his voice.
"I am not a man who often loses control."
"And so you did not."
"I did. If not for that ill-timed cart I would have happily buried myself between your legs and damn the consequences."
The shiver turned to a stroke of hot lust. Oh, God, she could picture him rocking against her, his naked hips pressed against her own.
His hand reached from behind to circle her wrist. He pulled her around to face him. "Is this a habit of yours? Collecting confessions of lust from men who can't have you?"
"I. . ." His nearness, the savage light in his eyes. . . She had to breathe deep to clear her head. "You could have me."
"You are not the type of woman a man simply beds."
That surprised a sharp laugh out of her. "I am exactly that type of woman."
"Don't speak that way of yourself," he growled. "It's not true. I knew the moment I met you it wasn't true."
"But. . ." she choked out, confused and oddly hurt by his words.
"We all do stupid things when we're young, Alex. Do not let past indiscretions dictate the rest of your life. You are a fine woman—smart and kind."
"Oh, Collin," she sighed and pulled her hand from his. "Don't be naive. I'm truly ruined. The Errant Heiress, they call me. The Duke's Despair."
"You are rich and beautiful and the sister of a duke. Don't tell me you haven't had men clamoring to marry you even since the scandal."
She shrugged, sullen in the face of the truth. "Not the kind of men I'd marry."
"One day there will be. And you should not damage yourself further because of past mistakes."
This was almost comical. Was he really turning her away out of some misguided morality? She did not want to be fine and good. She wanted to be happy.
"Good-bye, Alexandra. It was truly a pleasure."
My God, he was really going. She set aside her pride for later. "A kiss good-bye, at least?"
He hesitated, but only for the barest moment. "Aye. Of course."
Reaching high on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth to his before he could change his mind. He kissed her tenderly and thoroughly—and held her body an inch from his. Undaunted, she pressed her palms to his chest and felt him shift toward her. Good. Good. He was saying farewell and she would likely never see him again and he would damn well think of her when he was gone.
She couldn't stop the small, sad sound she made as he closed the space between them.
His hand curled into her hair. His mouth left hers. He pulled her back and stared down at her, eyes sliding over her eyes, her neck, her parted lips. Then his hands slipped out of her hair and he stepped away.
"Good-bye," she whispered, hating the feel of his heat seeping away from her.
Collin Blackburn opened the door of her room and walked silently out of her life.
Chapter
6
"Julia will be coming out next Season?"
"Oh, yes." Aunt Augusta fairly vibrated with excitement. "And she has finally shed her baby fat, Alex! You cannot imagine how excited she is!"
Alexandra forced a smile. Of course she could. She had felt that same excitement not two years before.
"We are taking her to Madame Desante for her wardrobe, of course."
"Of course."
"She says that the coming styles are perfect for Julia."
"That's wonderful, Aunt Augusta. And Justine? Is she thirteen now?"
"Oh, yes. And as wild as her little brother." A tired sigh made her cheeks quiver. "We shall see about that one."
Alex couldn't help but smile a little more widely. "She will outgrow it, I'm sure. And you have only Julia to think about now."
"Oh, and she will be lovely. You must come to her ball, Alexandra. She would miss your not being there."
"Perhaps," she lied. She had absolutely no intention of slinking back to London with her tail between her legs, and she certainly would not taint her cousin's coming out.
When Augusta turned to speak to Mr. Covington, Alex swept her gaze around the table, then glanced up to her brother to watch as he raised a subtle toast in her direction. She grinned, aware that she was lucky to have such a wonderful brother. He made her comfortable life possible. If he'd been anyone else she'd have been married to a fortune hunter by now. Someone more than willing to overlook her scandalous past for the chance of shaping her into the perfect rich wife.
Her eye caught on Robert Dixon then, smiling at her from mid-table. She smiled back.
He was a cousin of some sort, though God knew how distant. She'd met him twice before. He was very handsome, in a polished, blond sort of way, and he had been subtly flirting with her since dinner began.
Letting her eyes fall away from his, she continued her sweep of the table. Hart had planned this party to coincide with her twentieth birthday, and no more than two dozen handpicked guests had been invited—only the friends and relatives who'd treated her kindly after the scandal. No one else would find themselves close to the handsome Duke of Somerhart anytime soon.
George and Lucy had sailed to France not a week ago, however, and she found herself oddly nervous without their support. And still lonely, despite her brother's intention to cheer her up.
Loneliness had settled upon her over the past weeks, cold and suffocating, like a muffling blanket of snow that shrouded her happiness. It wasn't just the loss of Collin Blackburn, though that was certainly a part of it. She was, quite simply, alone. There were no other women like her, not that she knew of. Women who worked the land and the books. Women who were blessed with the luxury of playing at manly pursuits. And thank God she had that, for hard work was the only pleasure she had.
Laughter swelled briefly around her, and Alex laughed too, making sure that none of the guests could see her distraction. The increasing volume of the chatter signaled the winding down of dinner, and Alex nodded toward Hart and stood.
"Gentlemen. Please stay for a few moments to enjoy your port. Ladies?"
They stood around her in a flutter of silks and satins, each bright butterfly wing of gown separated from the next by the stark black of the men's jackets until the women stepped away to file out. Alexandra followed, murmuring pleasantries to the men she passed, and very aware of Robert Dixon's eyes on her.
A quarter hour passed. Fifteen minutes of torturous talk of babies and tatting and husbands and fashion. Alex spoke of gardens and thought of Collin. She laughed at a joke about waltzing and imagined his hand as it gripped her thigh.
She could not make herself forget him.
The men wandered out of the dining room in groups or pairs, trailing the scent of cigars and providing her with a distraction. She made her eyes look at Robert Dixon, made herself study him at his post near the door.
Aside from being handsome, he was cultured and polite, though his smile spoke of a steel will. And he would inherit the title of Viscount Landry from his father. In short, he was a man she would have found attractive during her Season. Regardless, he did not send any sparks racing through her veins. Had Collin ruined her for other men? Perhaps Mr. Dixon could help her find out.
His eyes met hers across the room and he moved immediately toward her.
"Mr. Dixon."
"Lady Alexandra. You look very. . . happy tonight."
She laughed at his choice of words. "You expected me to be withering away in exile?"
He smiled with an endearing touch of embarrassment. "Not withering away, certainly, but you seem almost content."
"I am. My life is much fuller now that it consists of more than dresses and parties."
"Surely you enjoyed life in London? You certainly seemed to."
"Yes. Of course I enjoyed London." His smile disappeared at her flat words.
"I'm sorry. That was a stupid thing to say."
"Nonsense, Mr. Dixon." She set her hand boldly on his sleeve. "I am not so fragile as that."
His hazel eyes warmed at her touch, and she blushed a little and removed her hand. She didn't want to lead him on, didn't want to deceive him, but she needed to know.
His shoulders eased the slightest bit closer to her as if he would speak softly, and Alex felt her heart speed. She had flirted entire days away in London, but now it felt unnatural, as if she were in danger. As his head dipped toward her ear, she spied Hart approaching from over his shoulder and nearly jumped with relief.
"Your Grace!" Robert sounded more than surprised to Alex's ears as he pushed to his feet. "Have you come to rescue your sister from my company?"
Hart smiled easily and took her hand. He kissed her cheek before looking down at his friend. "I only came to check on her, but seeing you here, I am now sure that she is near death from boredom."
She rolled her eyes. "Absolutely untrue, Hart. Don't be cruel."
Robert smiled ruefully as he bowed. "I'll leave you to your brother's attention, Lady Alexandra. I can see he wishes to speak with you."
"He seems like a nice young man," Alex offered as soon as he'd moved out of earshot.
Her brother glanced distractedly at his retreating back and shrugged. "Nice enough, I suppose. I wanted to see how you were doing."
She fought the urge to roll her eyes again. Hart was overprotective now. His guardianship in early years had been characterized by a marked disinterest in details. "I am fine, Hart."
"Are you sure?"
"You know, I was very good at this before. Chatting with people isn't difficult, even for someone of my limited intelligence and delicate health."
A wide smile spread across his face. The kind of smile, she suspected, that many women would swoon to see directed at them. "No, I suppose it isn't."
She gave in and rolled her eyes. "Really, Hart, there is nothing to worry about."
His blue gaze held her own for a long moment, the smile fading away, then he placed her hand on his arm and led her across the room to the open patio doors. She frowned up at him when he stopped to face her just outside the light that spilled from the house.
"You've been quiet the past few weeks, Alex." His words were soft as down.
She shook her head automatically. "No, I've only had a lot on my mind." His hand came up to cup her cheek, and Alex fought back the urge to confess her obsession with Collin Blackburn.
"Pet, you know that you are free to marry at any time. All I ask is that you inform me of any suitors. There are always those men who'd pursue you for your fortune, Alex, and I would look into anyone who caught your interest."
"Don't—"
"But you are a lovely woman and you are sure to find someone. I worry that you're lonely."
Oh, I am lonely, she wanted to cry out, but she only swallowed and shook her head in the dark. "There have been no suitors, Hart. But I think that's probably best for a while, don't you?"
"I would see you happy."
Really? she stopped herself from asking. Would you bring me a large Scotsman then, to be my lover? "I am happy, if only because of my indulgent big brother."
"It is not indulgence. This will all be yours for as long as you want it, Alex. Somerhart is your home as much as mine."
She loved him so much, she thought, wrapping her arms around his waist so she could press her cheek to his beating heart. "I love you, brother. You're the only man for me. Now let us get back to our guests."
He held on a moment longer, his chest expanding as if he would speak, but he did not. Instead, he pressed a hard kiss to her head and led her back toward the doors. Before they'd even stepped through, she watched him transform himself back into the perfect host. He was painfully handsome and the most elegant man she'd ever known. No one suspected that beneath his aloof exterior lurked a caring man.
