Alicia (30 page)

Felicia did not consider this an altogether satisfactory conclusion to her long wait, but she could see that her mother was tired and did not wish to discuss the matter further. So she hugged her and whispered, “Happy Christmas, Mama,”
and left her mother to her thoughts. Alicia lay awake for some time trying to analyze the turbulence of her emotions and finally fell asleep exhausted.

* * * *

Stronbert left the Court at mid-morning the next day to ride alone to Tosley Hall. Sir John was reluctant to have him admitted, but thought it prudent to do so. His eye began to twitch again, and he was coldly formal when Stronbert entered. “May I be of service to you, Lord Stronbert?”

“Yes, I think you can,”
Stronbert replied easily. “I believe I told you when last we met that I would expect you to answer to me for any further harm Tackar caused Lady Coombs.”

Sir John’s ruddy countenance paled. “Surely he has not caused her any more problems! I had heard the man was in France.”
He dropped into a chair.

Stronbert, assuming that since Sir John had seated himself he should do the same, carelessly draped himself in the chair opposite. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter which he handed to the squire, saying, “This and similar letters were received by several people in London before Tackar’s death.”

“His death! Surely you did not kill him!”

“No, I did not kill him, but he is dead all the same. Read the letter.”

As Sir John perused the letter the twitching of his eye and face intensified. “Disgusting,”
he said faintly, thrusting it from him.

Stronbert replaced the letter into his pocket and said slowly, “There is not a word of truth in it, and yet the man has managed to damage several reputations. Those who knew Tackar for what he was will ignore the libelous accusations, but there are others who will spread them. I do not wish to see Lady Coombs’s and her daughter’s reputations so scandalously abused. And I think perhaps you should do your utmost to see that they are not.”

“I? What can I do to allay such gossip?”

“Well, you know, I think a few well-placed letters from your wife of indignant denial might not come amiss. Few would disbelieve her considering her lack of fondness, shall we say, for the ladies.”

“She would never write such letters.”

“I dare say she would not, on her own. I expect you to see that she does.”

“And why should I do such a thing?”
Sir John blustered.

“As I said before,”
Stronbert explained patiently, “I hold you to account for the damage Tackar has done since you carelessly released him.”

“He could have written the same from a jail,”
Sir John protested.

“Do you really have a desire to nitpick with me, Sir John? Do you feel no sense of responsibility for this latest outrage? If so, I will trouble you no further.”
Stronbert rose.

“No, stay,”
the older man said faintly, his hands twisting before him on the desk. His voice came low and agonized. “I do hold myself responsible. I have met Lady Coombs and her daughter and admire their perseverance in face of the disasters that have befallen them. I cringe when I hear my wife speak of them with contempt. But I long ago abdicated my duty to hold sway in my household. My wife and son rule me instead of the reverse, and I have allowed it so that I might have some peace.”

Stronbert felt a reluctant pity for the ineffectual man, married to a shrewish woman and sire to a pompous but negligible son. “Then leave it, Sir John. Lady Coombs is not likely to let it overset her, and those who matter will not be swayed by the malicious words of a dishonorable man.”
He turned to leave.

“I will not leave it!”
the voice behind him declared, stronger in its determination. “The letters will be written as you suggested. I will see to it.”

Stronbert studied the careworn face carefully. The eye was no longer twitching and an air of resolution permeated the man’s bearing. He offered his hand to Sir John. “Thank you. I would appreciate it, Sir John.”

“It will be done,”
the reply came flatly, as the two men shook hands, “today.”

Alicia spent the day in indecision. There could surely be no reason to refuse Stronbert when he offered her everything she could ask for. Certainly she owed it to her daughter to accept him. Felicia should have the kind of life she would enjoy at the Court. And Alicia had only vowed not to marry again because of her fear of intimacy with a man. Stronbert was offering her release from that fear. Could she trust him to honor his promise? Yes, of course she could. That was not the problem. If he said he would not touch her, he would not. She was well aware that many husbands had outside affairs, mistresses. The thought of someone using her body as Sir Frederick had made her shudder and recoil. She did not wish to be put in such a situation again, where she was powerless to refuse. Not for any amount of money, not even for her daughter’s sake. She would have submitted to Tackar when he held Felicia, but she would have suffered a personal degradation that she did not think she could have overcome.

And Stronbert was offering her freedom from all that. She had only to share him with whomever he chose to bed, whenever he chose to do so. There would not be the shame Sir Frederick had cast upon her by deserting her. Then why did she feel this anger every time she considered the proposal? Stronbert had indicated that it was not his choice of arrangements, merely one he would be willing to offer. It was really extraordinarily accommodating of him, and she still wished to smack him for suggesting it.

Alicia sat through her evening meal vaguely aware of Felicia’s chatter but unable to respond with any real attention. She was unable to eat much, nervous at the prospect of facing Stronbert very soon. What was she to tell him?

The women sat in the drawing room doing needlepoint and occasionally exchanging a remark, when there was a tap at the door. Alicia started with dismay. She had still not decided how to answer him.

Stronbert stood in the drawing room, speaking with Felicia. After a while Alicia heard him say, “If you should not mind, Felicia, I would like to speak with your mother privately for a while,”
and the girl nodded and left the room, quietly closing the door after her. Alicia heard her ascend the stairs and shut herself in her room. Stronbert went to lean against the mantelpiece, his eyes on Alicia, who stood frozen where she had risen.

“You have not reached a decision?”

“No. No. I have thought of little else.”

“Tell me where the problem lies, and perhaps we can settle the matter.”

“I do not know,”
she said helplessly. “You are being so...reasonable.”

“Would you rather that I were not?”
he asked, a trace of amusement in his voice.

Alicia could not answer him. She did not know what she wanted any longer. Stronbert held out his hand to her and said firmly, “Come here, Alicia.”
It was a voice that admitted no disobedience, gentle yet commanding. She walked over to him and hesitantly extended her hand to his waiting one.

“Shall I tell you why you cannot decide?”
he asked softly.

“Yes, please,”
she murmured.

“Because you are a woman and for all you have been abused and mistreated by men, you respond to me as a man. You are afraid of me, of what I could do to you, that I might hurt you. But you are not afraid enough to agree to allow me to go my own way. Something tells you that you may change your mind and that perhaps you would suffer worse knowing that I am with someone else, and you would not be able to bring yourself to tell me so. To tell me that you are willing to be my wife, truly, with all it entails.”

Alicia blushed painfully. “That cannot be so. I vowed after that night, the night Tackar was here, that I would kill a man before I would let him touch me.”

“Did you? How bloodthirsty of you.”
His tone was light, but he put a hand on her head and pressed it against his shoulder comfortingly. “I have talked with your brother.”

“Stephen? When did you see Stephen?”

“I went to him after that night. I knew I would not get your permission to protect you then, and so I sought his. I could not bear to think of your coming to any further harm. I hope you can forgive me for speaking with Stephen without your permission.”

Alicia’s eyes were wide with astonishment. “Then that man, Jeff, really was there to protect me? I thought I must be overwrought even to imagine such a thing. What else did you discuss with Stephen?”
she asked suspiciously.

“I shall tell you,”
Stronbert replied, picking her up in his arms, “when we are seated comfortably.”
She made a little squeal of protest, but subsided stiffly in his arms as he sat down with her in his lap on the sofa. “Be still, Alicia. I told Stephen that I intended to marry you if you would have me, and that I wanted to see you were protected since he was so far away. He granted my request.”

Stronbert paused for a moment, unsure how to approach the rest of what he had to tell her. He unconsciously stroked her hair. “I also pressed him for information on your fear of men. He told me what he could.”
He felt Alicia’s body stiffen against him, but he continued to stroke her hair. “He told me that you threatened to kill Sir Frederick if he touched you again, after Felicia was born.”

“That is true,”
she whispered.

“And did he?”
There was no answer and he asked again, “Please tell me, Alicia, did he?”

“No.”

“I am glad. Now I want to explain something to you, my love. Not all men, in fact very few, are like your husband and Tackar. Most men learn to control their desire for a woman, be she his wife or not. You have had some very damaging experiences, and you were very young at the time you wed. Oh, Lord, I sound so patronizing. Would you look at me, love?”

Alicia raised her head from where it was pressed defensively against his shoulder. When he spoke again, her eyes were on him. “All I really want to say, Alicia, is that I would never hurt you. Do you know that you can receive pleasure from your body?”
She nodded mutely. “But you have never done so with a man?”
Again a silent answer, the shake of her head.

His lips brushed her forehead, touched her eyes. He felt her stiffen automatically in his arms. “Do not be afraid, my love. I will not hurt you.”
Lightly he kissed her unresponsive lips. When nothing further happened, after a while she opened the eyes she had closed and regarded him gravely. “I can tell that you want me,”
she said accusingly.

He laughed and shifted her slightly from his lap to his leg. “Of course I want you, goose. You are a very desirable woman. But I am not going to take you.”
He felt her body relax slightly at the words. “I want you to kiss me, Alicia.”

She gazed at him incredulously. “I cannot.”

“Yes, you can. Give me your hand.”
She produced it from where it was tucked against his shoulder. He gently kissed the fingertips and then, holding it lightly, drew it over his forehead, brows, and along his chin before laying the fingers against his lips. “You see, they are not the least bit dangerous. Kiss me, Alicia.”
 
She swallowed nervously and bracing herself against his chest, pecked softly and quickly at his lips. He made no move, his expression blank. Alicia leaned back and said defiantly, “There, I did it.”

“I thought we were agreed you were a woman,”
he commented dryly. “Just so might you kiss your brother.”

Stung, she leaned forward and kissed him again. “Better,”
he commented, “we have now risen to the level of your daughter.”

Alicia let out a little gurgle of laughter. With her fingers she traced the lines of his face, exploring the curves and depressions. And then she put her arms about his neck and kissed him. Eventually she drew back, embarrassed, and found he was smiling the special smile that made her insides flutter. “I love you,”
she whispered. “I have never loved a man before.”

He pulled her to him, the feel of her firm breasts against his chest, and kissed her until she was breathless. He released her then, curious to see how she would respond. Her eyes and face were softened with desire and he sighed contentedly. “I think, my love, that you should marry me, and be my wife.”

“Yes,”
she agreed. “I think that would be wise. But, Nigel, I cannot be sure that when the time comes I can...”

“I understand. I promise you I will be patient. You will need time to learn to trust me.”

“What am I to do about the shop?”
she asked anxiously.

“I intend to keep you far too busy to involve yourself with the shop. Perhaps Mr. Allerton would agree to managing it for you. Shall you mind?”

“Not so very much. I enjoy some of the work, but there have been so many problems, and I shall not miss them. I...I would not embarrass you by continuing to involve myself there, of course. Have you thought what people will say to your marrying a shopkeeper, Nigel?”

“I could not care less, Alicia. You know that it has never bothered me.”

“Yes, and it is very strange of you,”
she retorted.

“There is one thing more I must tell you, Alicia.”
He held her in his arms lightly now and said somewhat awkwardly, “You and I are partners in the shop.”

Alicia regarded him with astonishment. “What do you mean?”

“When the fire made it necessary for you to take Lady Gorham as a partner, I had written her offering to provide the financial support if she would lend her name to the project. I feared she would not have the necessary funds to help you just then.”
He eyed her dubiously. “I did not do it to deceive you, but because I wanted to help and felt responsible since I had undertaken your protection.”

“Indeed!”
Alicia replied indignantly. “You knew I would not accept your help and you tricked me.”
She rose from his lap to stand above him, her eyes glaring. “I am surprised that Lady Gorham consented to such a suggestion.”

Stronbert smiled reluctantly and drawled, “She was aware of my intentions toward you.”

“You seem to have made no secret of them with anyone but me!”
she retorted.

“Not so. I told only your brother and Lady Gorham because it was necessary.”