In The Prince's Bed (22 page)

Katherine rewarded him for that truthful statement with a warm smile that sent the blood rushing right to his head.

“If you aren’t invited,” he continued, “I won’t go, either.” He winked at Katherine. “It sounds like too
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shocking a party for a respectable man like me.”

Her mother’s face lit up. “Do you hear that, my angel? Isn’t his lordship the very model of propriety?”

Katherine’s lips twitched. “Yes, Mama. We should all follow his sterling example.”

“And here you were worried that he was a wild sort,” her mother said.

“Surely not,” Alec retorted in mock outrage. “Miss Merivale, have you been thinking unjustly of me?”

“I don’t believe so, my lord,” Katherine said sweetly. “But then, I’m still trying to determine your true character.”

That worried him. She’d agreed to marry him… but she didn’t quite trust him even now. He would have to stay on his guard.

“If you have no other engagement for tomorrow night,” her mother said, “you must dine withus.”

“It would be an honor,” he replied. “The night after, I’d like to accompany you to Lady Purefoy’s birthday supper. And if you have no invitation—”

“We
were
invited to that,” Katherine said with a relieved smile. “Lady Purefoy and Mama came out together— they’ve been friends ever since.”

“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Merivale gushed. “We were like three peas in a pod before we married, me and Lady Purefoy and Lady Lovelace—” She broke off. “Of course, Lady Lovelace and I no longer see each other. I don’t even know if she will attend, and—”

“It’s all right, Mama,” Katherine interjected. “His lordship is a gentleman. He understands these things.”

Alec grimaced. In other words, her former suitor might be there and she would expect them both to behave like gentlemen. What a damned annoying prospect. “Then it’s settled. Evening after next, I’ll come for you ateight o’clock.”

“And you’ll come for dinner tomorrow night,” Mrs. Merivale prodded.

“Yes. Tomorrow night.”

But even the prospect of two evenings in Katherine’s company couldn’t revive his lowered spirits. The very thought of her anywhere near Sydney Lovelace dampened all his pleasure. What if the pompous ass tried to change her mind? Or worse yet, tried to kiss her again? The possibility sickened him.

By God, what was wrong with him? This jealousy nonsense—even his former mistress had never roused it in him. Why must it appear with Katherine, the one person he should be calm and reasonable and blasted gentlemanly around?

But the mad possessiveness she brought out in him did shed new light on his parents’ marriage. He’d never understood how a man who ignored his wife could treat her badly when she found pleasure elsewhere.

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Now he understood. Not the bad treatment; there was no excuse for that. But the power of jealousy was stronger than he’d realized. Acting on a bitter man of no character, like the old earl, it was bound to wreak havoc.

He mustn’t let it wreak havoc on him. He had Katherine now—he mustn’t jeopardize that.
Follow the
rules. Don’t let passion deter you from your objective
. So after they arrived, and he accompanied the ladies into the town house, he was surprised to hear himself say, “Mrs. Merivale, may I speak to your daughter privately?”

The woman’s gaze grew speculative as she glanced from him to Katherine. “I daresay you’ve been private enough with my daughter this evening.” She smiled. “But I suppose a few minutes more can’t hurt.”

She strode off down the hall as Alec led Katherine to the parlor. As soon as they entered, he hauled Katherine into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, seeking reassurance in the sweet warmth of her mouth.

When he drew back, she gaped at him. “Alec? What—”

“That’s to remind you of me when you meet with Lovelace. In case he resorts to my own tactics to tempt you back to his side.”

Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “What happened to the man who urged me to try other men’s kisses? And said I needed more of a basis for comparison? Perhaps you’re right—ifSydneywill kiss me again, I can make a proper—”

He cut her off with a kiss so long and deep that she melted completely in his arms. When he pulled away to see her eyes closed, her breath coming in urgent gasps, and her body swaying, the hard knot in his gut finally loosened.

As she opened her eyes in a daze, he growled, “And that, you impertinent minx, is for having so much fun tormenting me.”

“Just wait until we’re married,” she teased, undeterred by his gruff manner.

“I’m not sure I can last until then if we’re always seeing Lovelace in society,” he grumbled. She eyed him askance. “Promise you’ll be civil to him at Lady Purefoy’s supper.”

He scowled. “I’ll be very civil. If he attempts to kiss you, I’ll use great civility in knocking him into the next county.”

A shadow fell over her features. “Now, Alec, you would never—”

“No.” With an effort, he reined in his powerful feelings. “I’m only joking.” When both her eyebrows arched high, he added ruefully, “Half-joking anyway. But I promise not to embarrass you.”

“And after we’re married? Will you refrain from embarrassing me then?”

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“I’ll try not to be too jealous a husband, if that’s what you mean.”

She chewed her lower lip. “And will you… um… give
me
cause to be jealous? I know most gentlemen have their dalliances, but—”

He pressed a finger to her lips. “I’m not like most gentlemen. And I intend to share my bed with only one woman once I marry.” As the product of a household shattered by a single unfaithful act, he had no intention of repeating history. “Some ofusgentlemen do believe in fidelity, you know.”

“I hope so. Because I won’t stand by and meekly accept infidelity—I’m not like most ladies, either.”

He bit back a smile. “I came to that conclusion the first time I met you, sweetheart. It’s what I like about you.”

Her features softened. “As long as we understand each other.”

A throat being cleared in the hall made him groan. “Your mother is signaling that it’s time for my retreat.”

Katherine sighed. “Mama is nothing if not subtle.” He turned away, but she stayed him with one hand.

“Just so you’ll know, you were right about Sydney’s kiss that day at the reading—it didn’t live up to my expectations.”

“I figured that out, too.”

She stiffened. “Rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“If you’d enjoyed kissingSydney, you would never have let me court you,” he said simply. “You wouldn’t have toyed with either of our affections like that.”

“Then why did I agree to your scheme?”

“Because deep down you
wanted
to marry me, and it gave you an excuse to be with me.” With a grin, he glanced down to where her hand lay on his arm. “And because you can’t keep your hands off me, any more than I can keep mine off you.”

With a sniff, she withdrew her hand, but he caught it and lifted it to his lips, pressing kisses against her gloved palm and each fingertip until her eyes softened, and she smiled. Only then did he release it.

“Sleep well, sweetheart. Because we won’t get much sleep
after
we’re married.”

She was still blushing as he left. It took all his will to order the coachman to “go on,” when all he wanted was to toss her in the carriage and carry her off with him toGretna Green. That wouldn’t be wise, considering what was at stake. Men were hanged for kidnapping heiresses. So he’d have to resign himself to a few more restless nights while he imagined their future wedding night. His pleasant thoughts of such delights only lasted until he reached the hotel, where he was accosted by a surprise visitor awaiting him in the lobby.

“Emson!” he exclaimed as his aging butler approached. “What are you doing inLondon?”

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Emson had stayed at Edenmore when many of the other servants left. They’d feared Alec might not turn the place around after it had been neglected for so long. “Mr. Dawes sent me to fetch you home.”

Dawes was the new steward. Alec’s blood chilled. “What’s wrong?”

With a glance at the other men milling in the lobby, Emson drew him outside. “It’s that dreadful Mr. Harris inIpswich. He’s returned early from his trip toScotlandto see his sister. Mr. Dawes rode over there yesterday to fetch the new tillers and plows you ordered for the barley sowing, but Harris says he wants his money in cash, or he’ll not release them.”

“But his son agreed to let me have them on credit.”

“As it happens, Mr. Harris had left strict instructions not to allow anyone from the estate to purchase on credit anymore, but young Master Harris says—”

“That I talked him into it, which is exactly what I did. Harris’s son appreciates the difficulties a man might find himself in.” He sighed. “Very well, I’ll write a note explaining that I’m now engaged to marry an heiress. If he can only wait a while longer for his money—”

“A note won’t convince him, my lord. You must come yourself. ‘Tis the only way. Mr. Dawes says if you don’t get the new plows—”

“I know—I can’t plant that new strain of barley in my untenanted fields. And the tenants won’t try it in their own fields until they see me succeed with it. If I’m to expand the farms and increase all our incomes, I must improve their yields.”

“Mr. Dawes says that the seed must go in the ground now, or it will be another year before he can try it.”

“Without those tillers, they’ll never get that soil turned. Blast, blast, and double-blast.” Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so eager to hire a new steward with modern ideas. But what else could he do? His “father’s” old steward had been stealing him blind, something Alec had figured out within two days of taking over the estate. And the tenants, burdened by increasing rents and low yields, were too beaten down to try anything new—they considered themselves lucky if they eked out a living.

The new steward was trying to change all that, but though the tenants had hated the old steward, they hadn’t yet come to trust the new one. Or Alec himself, for that matter. And they weren’t alone, judging from Harris’s behavior.

Alec dragged his fingers through his hair. Damn, what to do now? If he could order the equipment in the villageofFenbridgenear the estate, he could use his lordly influence to intimidate the merchant into doing as he wished, but the village was too small to provide such things. Unfortunately, the owner of Harris’s Fine Agricultural Implements inIpswichwas immune to influence. He supplied half the landowners inSuffolk—so he would hardly squawk if an impoverished earl withdrew his business.

“How can I improve an estate when no one will even give me the chance?” Alec bit out. “Harris doesn’t trust me, my own tenants don’t trust me—”

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“That is not entirely true, my lord. But you must realize that with your being off in town, some of the tenants think—”

“I’m my ‘father’s’ son. But I have no choice. I have to marry—it’s the only answer. Which means I have to be inLondonright now.”

“Not if you want your tillers, my lord.” Old Emson always spoke his mind with impunity, and for good reason. He’d left service years ago, after marrying. But when his replacement had left, too, the old earl had begged Emson to return until matters improved at Edenmore. He was still there, and since he worked for a mere promise of pay, he felt free to say exactly what he thought. Alec sighed. “Very well, I’ll come.”

“It should not take more than a day. Then you can return toLondon. If we post through the night, we can be there by late morning.”

“Yes.” And after Alec finished dealing with Harris, he could be back here day after tomorrow in plenty of time to take Katherine to the Purefoy ball. But he’d miss dinner with her tomorrow night, blast it.

“We’ll take the carriage. It’ll be faster, and I can get some sleep before I face Harris tomorrow.”

“Buying carriages now, are we?” Emson said dryly. “My, my, how we’ve come up in the world.”

Alec raised an eyebrow. “For your information, I
borrowed
a carriage from my… er… business associate.”

Emson still saw him as a sixteen-year-old rough-and-tumble ne’er-do-well. It would take time to change the old servant’s opinion, and Alec had only been master for a few weeks.

“I needed the carriage to court my heiress,” Alec went on. “I only hope Lord Draker doesn’t hear how far I took it from town.”

That shook even Emson’s composure. “You borrowed a carriage from the Dragon Viscount? Oh, dear.”

Alec cast Emson a rueful smile. “These are desperate times.” He gestured toward the stables. “Give me a minute to throw some clothes in a bag and leave a note for my betrothed. Then I’ll be ready.”

Emson nodded. “I shall see to the horses.”

As soon as Alec reentered the lobby, he called for paper. He scribbled an explanation for Katherine, then handed it to one of the footboys. “Make sure you take this directly to the address marked on the front, all right?”

“Yes, milord.”

“Hand it to the manservant who answers the door, say it’s for Miss Merivale, and then leave. Don’t tarry.” He paused. “Better yet, go in the afternoon, when ladies pay their social calls. She won’t even be home then.”

“Yes, milord,” the boy answered, though he seemed perplexed by Alec’s conditions.
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“You mustn’t tell anyone in the household where you came from. Just leave the note with the servant and go. The man won’t think to ask about me at the door, and if by some chance Miss Merivale or Mrs. Merivale
is
at home, they can’t question you if you’re gone. Is that clear?”

“Yes, milord, I understand.”

“Good.” The last thing Alec needed was Katherine— or worse yet, Mrs. Merivale—learning he was forced to live in a hotel. That would certainly rouse their suspicions. And he must avoid that at all cost now that success finally lay within his reach.