An Impossible Attraction (22 page)

Alexi choked, surprised.

Stephen remained in disbelief. He’d asked her—somewhat off-handedly, he admitted—and she had lied. She had gone on and on about the passion she had felt for a previous lover—except he hadn’t been a lover! And that was when he felt Alexi clasp his shoulder. He turned.

Alexi’s eyes were wide and utterly innocent. “I suppose that was your first time, too?” He was trying not to laugh.

Stephen shoved him off. “Laugh all you wish. I have never pursued an innocent, as you well know. I would have stayed far away from her, had I known.”

“Really? And now what?” Alexi’s stare remained far too wide and bland.

Before Stephen could answer, he heard the sound of several pairs of ladies’ heels clicking in the corridor. The footsteps were rapid—he instantly suspected the identity of his visitors. He tensed. When Elysse and Ariella appeared on the library threshold, he knew he would never hear the end of his affair with Alexandra Bolton if Alexi let the metaphorical cat out of the bag. He gave his cousin a dark, warning look. “Your head will roll,” he said softly.

Alexi laughed at him and strolled over to his wife, who instantly nestled against him. “If you have found the dowager duchess her match, why am I the last to know?” he asked her, then glanced at Stephen. “We have no secrets.”

Stephen scowled at him. “I have a guillotine hidden in my closet,” he snapped.

Alexi laughed again.

“We actually came to call for another reason,” Elysse said, looking back and forth between the two men. “Why did Stephen just threaten to take off your head? What is wrong with him?”

“I have been working on housing plans all night, in lieu of sleeping,” Stephen snapped.

Both women flinched. Ariella murmured, “Someone is in a very foul mood—as never before, I think.” She shared a glance with Elysse. “Maybe he has heard the rumors.”

Stephen went still. Had she leaked the fact of her deflowering—at his hands? Did she think to pursue a marriage—to eventually force him into it—in spite of what he had said? “What rumors?”

“Charlotte Witte is a woman scorned, and she is doing her best to bring poor Alexandra Bolton down. You do recall Miss Bolton, don’t you?” Elysse asked innocently.

“Oh, he recalls her—very well,” Alexi murmured to her.

Instantly, Stephen couldn’t help but recall the night he had met Alexandra and the humiliation she had endured—with her head held high. He refused to admire her for anything now, yet he had admired her then. He was disturbed, on many accounts. He had never trusted Charlotte to be a woman of grace or honor, but this…She had guessed that he had jettisoned her for Alexandra, and he hadn’t considered that she would seek her petty revenge. “What lies is Lady Witte spreading?” Of course he did not care, he thought.

“She is claiming that you are having an affair with Miss Bolton, Stephen, and that she has been seen at this house on several occasions.”

He breathed hard.

“Of course you would never pursue and ruin such an honorable woman, now would you?” Ariella said, staring rather coolly. “Because I have heard firsthand from my aunt, Lady Blanche, that a very well-off squire is about to ask for her hand. Miss Bolton has fallen on very hard times since I married Emilian. She deserves a better situation than an uncaring affair with you.”

He took another draught of brandy. His problems would be solved if she married the squire. Except now he was oddly dismayed and even more disturbed. He could not understand why, but he didn’t like the image of Alexandra in the burly squire’s arms. Not that it mattered to him, of course. He heard himself say, “Denney has yet to ask for her. No contracts have been drawn. And I am hardly having an affair with Alexandra Bolton. Even if I should, it is not
your
affair, Ariella.”

Both women gaped, but Alexi was even more amused now. “And how would you know that he hasn’t asked for her?” He grinned.

Stephen could not believe he had let so much slip. And he hadn’t had a chance to tell Randolph to call off his spies, although he’d meant to do so. He’d even been informed of the state of affairs that morning, which was why he knew that no proposal had been made. He thought his cheeks felt warm, as if he were flushing—but that was simply impossible. “The squire is welcome to Miss Bolton. He will have his hands full with her.” He almost added,
and her games
. “I wish them well. I will be the first to send them my congratulations and a wedding gift.”

Her face swam in his mind. Beautiful and proud, with the kind of dignity so few women naturally achieved. Except it was all a lie.
She
was a lie.

“Is he smitten?” he heard Elysse ask her husband.

“I am wondering that myself,” Alexi said, chuckling.

Were they mad? Stephen thought. “Why would you even make such a preposterous statement?” he demanded. “Because I admired her briefly?”

“Yes, and because there is so much to admire,” Alexi drawled. “You are always immaculate, but today you are red-eyed, unshaven and in general unkempt. You seem to know Miss Bolton’s intimate affairs. And you are very out of sorts, Stephen. Surely you can admit that.”

“I will admit nothing,” he snapped, then turned to both women. “How is the hunt for a husband for the dowager duchess proceeding?”

Ariella hesitated. He knew she was debating the possibility that he might be keenly interested in a woman for the first time in his life. At last she smiled slowly. “I like Miss Bolton. I always have.”

“Good for you.” He was brusque.

“We are compiling a list, but we are not yet ready to show it to you,” Ariella said, her gaze searching his as her smile widened. “She is so unlike all the women you have been involved with. She seems deeply intelligent, highly determined, and apparently she has done quite a bit to keep her family afloat in daunting circumstances.” She looked at Elysse. “We should befriend her. It is time.”

“I should love to do so,” Elysse said quickly.

He was in disbelief. They would not dare to meddle now! Besides, there was nothing to meddle in. “That is hardly necessary.” But now he thought about the fact that she had shredded his five-thousand-pound note. Of course she had—she had a much higher pot in mind. But he was uneasy. She had truly needed the funds, even he knew that, but he had been so angry that he had meant to insult her by handing her such a staggering check. He’d meant to indicate that she was a high-priced whore. He regretted that. So he had sent her the amount they’d agreed upon.

“Why don’t you want us to call on her?” Ariella asked.

He’d had enough. “Do as you wish! After all, you both run wild. Your husbands allow you absolute freedom of thought and action, and if they cannot stop you, how can I?” Too late, he realized that his uncharacteristic explosion of his temper had given far too much away. As he strode for the doors, an utter silence had fallen over the room. He growled, “It is lack of sleep making me tense, nothing more.”

No one dared to dispute him.

But he knew they were talking about him as he left.

A
LEXANDRA WAS
in the kitchen, sewing one of Charlotte Witte’s ivory silk chemises, when she heard her father coming down the stairs. It was late afternoon, and he had gone out earlier, but she hadn’t heard him come in. He must have returned while she was in the cellars, she thought, looking for violet thread, while carefully stitching a torn piece of lace. She kept herself carefully composed as she worked the needle. She refused to think of who the chemise belonged to, or how it might have been used—or abused.

Edgemont walked into the kitchen.

Alexandra did not look up until she realized he had paused on the threshold and was staring at her in silence. Surprised, she looked up, smiling, but when she saw his severe, set face, she faltered. “What is wrong?”

“I heard rumors last night,” he said harshly. “Very ugly rumors.”

Alexandra laid down her sewing very deliberately. Her heart thundered, deafening her. Had he heard about her affair?

“I did not believe them. I refuse to believe you have been sneaking off to rendezvous with the Duke of Clarewood.”

She inhaled. “Those are terrible accusations.”

“I called on Lady Blanche today.” His gaze was unwavering now, accusatory, but also bleak.

She could not breathe. Somehow, she stood up.
She was about to be discovered
.

“She never gave you the horse. You weren’t there at any time this week for tea. Who gave you the horse, Alexandra?” He was shaking.

She trembled, too. “It is just a loan. Bonnie really is lame.”

“Where did you get the horse?” he asked ominously. “It is Clarewood’s, isn’t it? As Lady Witte claimed? Clarewood gave you that horse!”

“It’s a loan,” she tried desperately. “Merely a loan.”

He was panting as he dug into his pocket and produced a slip of paper. Alexandra went still as she recognized the bank check. “And is this a loan, as well?”

She blanched and bit her lip, shaking her head, stunned. “You searched my room?”

“What did you do to receive this?” he screamed at her.

“Nothing,” she lied, cringing. “It’s not…” She faltered. “Father, please, stop!”

Her sisters came rushing into the kitchen, their faces pale with shock. “What is going on?” Corey asked. “Why is Father shouting at you?”

“Go,” Alexandra begged them, not taking her eyes from her father. “Please go away.”

But they didn’t move, and Edgemont waved the check at her. “What did you do to warrant his paying you off?” he roared at her.

Alexandra couldn’t tell him, and while she knew she must lie to save herself, she couldn’t do that, either. Helplessly she sat down, tears sliding down her cheeks.

“Did you spread your legs for that bastard?” Edgemont shouted, shocked. His cheeks were red now.

“Alexandra would never do such a thing.” Olivia tried to defend her, but her gaze was wide and horrified.

Alexandra finally whispered, “I thought he was kind…a prince.”

Edgemont gasped, clasping his head, backing away. He started to cry.

Olivia paled with shock, as did Corey. Neither sister moved.

“I thought he was our savior,” Alexandra said, brokenly. “I was wrong.”

“Oh, my God,” Olivia breathed.

“You need to deposit it,” Alexandra somehow added, now covering her face with her hands. She had never been as humiliated or ashamed, as mortified. Her sisters would never admire her again. And why should they? She was a harlot, after all.

Corey turned and ran from the room. The front door slammed as she left the house.

Alexandra dared to look up, sick with shame. Olivia was still horrified. Her eyes simply said,
Why? How could you do such a thing?
“I am so sorry,” Alexandra whispered.

Her father turned and said raggedly, “Are you seeing him still?”

She managed to shake her head.

“So he used you and then tossed you aside?” Edgemont asked harshly.

Oh, God, this was turning worse and worse. “No, it wasn’t like that…. It was a mistake—for both of us,” she said, aware of how ridiculous it was that she was defending him now.

Another silence fell. Olivia walked around the table and sat down beside her, taking her hand. Alexandra was grateful.

A long, painful moment passed. “You’ll marry Denney now,” Edgemont said. He stared at her firmly. “There could be a child. I’ll tell him you have accepted his suit.”

She trembled. She had tried not to think about the possibility of having conceived, but now she did not dare refute her father.

He started to walk out, then turned. “You’ll be wed within the month.”

T
HE WISEST COURSE
of action had been an instant retreat to her room. Alexandra shut the door, breathing hard, refusing to cry. The dying red roses stared at her.

She had lost everything now. Her good name, her dignity, her honor, her self-respect and the respect of her family. There was nothing more to lose—except for her freedom.

She hugged herself, thinking of the kind squire and the horrid duke. She took the roses and forced them into the small wastebasket by the bureau. Then she heard her door open and glanced up as Olivia slipped into her room.

“Are you all right?” her sister asked, closing the door.

“No, I am not.” Alexandra pushed the roses down, crushing them. The thorns cut her hands.

Olivia put her arm around her. “I understand.”

Alexandra pulled away. “Do you? Because I cannot understand myself.”

“He is impossibly seductive—and, as always, you thought nothing of sacrificing yourself for us.” Her gaze was searching.

“He
is
very seductive,” Alexandra whispered, and her heart suddenly hurt so fiercely, it was as if it was broken. She felt another tear well. “I truly thought he was kind.”

“He is despicable, to use you so callously,” Olivia whispered. “I hate him.”

Alexandra stumbled away, the tears beginning to fall. She had controlled herself thus far, but the task seemed impossible now. His rejection hurt so terribly. His accusations hurt even more. “I miss Owen, Olivia,” she said.

Aghast, Olivia sat down with her and took her into her arms. “Of course you do. He was your true love.” She sat back and stared. “But I know you, Alexandra. And I know you would not do what you did just for us. Do you love him?”

“I don’t know…maybe. But how could I? He is cruel!” She finally started to cry.

Olivia held her again.

A long time passed while Alexandra wept over her broken heart and shattered dreams—dreams she didn’t dare identify. But his image was with her—it always was—and it wasn’t hateful or mean. It was warm, and it was kind. Too late, she was certain she had truly fallen in love with the duke.

When the tears were finally spent, when all that was left were her throbbing heart and battered soul, she pulled away. “I am sorry. I never cry.”

“It’s all right,” Olivia said, her face strained. Very carefully, she asked, “Could there be a child?”

Alexandra closed her eyes. A part of her would rejoice if that were the case, but he would think it a part of her trap, and she would have to make certain he never knew about their son or daughter—something marriage to the squire would no doubt take care of. Then she looked at her sister. “It is unlikely,” she said, having made a calculation. She thought she was safe from an unwanted pregnancy.