Love's Guardian (9 page)

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Authors: Dawn Ireland

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BOOK: Love's Guardian
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“They’re mine.” Alex came to stand next to him. “I would select what I wanted, and Grandfather would purchase them for me. Most vendors have an aversion to selling to women.” She gave him a slight smirk. “Even if I could out-fence every one of them.”

“Now who’s being arrogant?”

“Not arrogant. Confident.” Alex smiled up at him. “There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” Her teasing smile undid him. She was so close he could smell the vanilla fragrance she favored. “Might I find
confidence
on this list?”

He’d meant to grab only the paper, but somehow ended up taking her hand. Her pale fingers were devoid of jewelry but perfectly formed. Everything about her fascinated him. He lifted his gaze to her luminous green eyes.

She was exquisite. He’d known many beautiful women, but they’d never affected him like this. He desperately wanted to feel her pressed against him.

“I think I should warn you about arrogant men,” Declan whispered. “They’re liable to take advantage of a situation.” He brought his other hand up to caress the silky hair at the back of her head, and slowly drew her mouth to his.

Alex wasn’t sure when she dropped her list. She wasn’t even sure how she came to be in his arms. One moment Declan gazed at her with a strange kind of intensity, and the next, she was being kissed with a passion she hadn’t known existed.

Declan’s hands roamed her back, trying to coax her closer. Her arms came up, encircling the muscled expanse of his shoulder. Everywhere she touched felt hard, but warm. The soft pressure of his lips continued down her neck, halting just long enough to nuzzle behind her ear.

She didn’t want to do anything that might make him stop. This vortex of swirling feelings and emotions appealed to her in a way she never could have imagined.

He reclaimed her mouth with an urgency that seemed to have a direct line to the spot below her belly. She pressed against him, wanting, what?

The click of a door caused her to stiffen and break the kiss. She glanced up at Declan. A slight smile curled his lips as he glanced over her shoulder.

“Glory be, and I thought you would be bored in the country.” A man’s lilting Irish voice sounded from the entrance. “You, Worthington, could find a winning colleen on a desert isle.”

Alex jerked out of Declan’s embrace and turned around to see a grinning man filling the doorway. She tried to straighten the neckline that had slipped half off her shoulder and felt a flush heating her cheeks. Was it from the kiss, or embarrassment at being found in Declan’s arms? Her guardian moved forward to greet their guest. Damn him for appearing so unruffled by their surprise visitor.

Declan inclined his head in Alex’s direction at the man’s questioning glance. “Lord Morgan, may I present the Countess of Lochsdale, Alexandra Kendrick, my ward.”

The Irishman raised an eyebrow at Declan before coming forward and bowing over her hand. He had a grace she found surprising, considering his over six foot frame. “I’m charmed, Lady Lochsdale. If I’d known there was such beauty to be found in the country, I would have visited sooner.”

Declan joined them and gave Morgan an exasperated look. “What the devil are you doing here? I thought you were looking after Catrina.”

“Nice to see you, too.” The ruggedly handsome Lord Morgan slapped Declan on the back. “I got tired of waiting.”

A low sultry voice came from the doorway. “So did I.”

Alex looked in the direction of the voice. A woman, who bore a strong resemblance to the statue of Aphrodite in her mother’s garden, posed in the entrance. She was tall and willowy, making Alex feel like a child by comparison. Her features were classic, with the flawless skin and blond hair Eleanor told her were all the rage in London.

Dressed in a pale pink gown, she seemed to float toward Declan. She put her arm through his and lifted her cheek for a kiss.

Alex had a ridiculous impulse to cross the room and yank the
vision
off him.

“Lord Worthington, it really wasn’t very kind of you to leave us in London without a word,” she breathed. “I, that is,
we
were worried about you.” She looked up at him, the image of a concerned lover.

Alex wished she could be anywhere but here. She reached down to retrieve her list, which brought her to the attention of the clinging vine.

“Who do we have here? Lord Worthington, this couldn’t possibly be your charge. I was under the impression she was still in the schoolroom.” She raised an eyebrow in Morgan’s direction.

“How would
I
be knowing?” Morgan defended. “When Worthington said he’d be needing some time to clear up this business with his ward, I assumed she was a wee thing.”

The
vision
looked Alex up and down. “Well, at least some of your assumptions were correct.”

That did it. She refused to be talked about as if she were elsewhere, and if that was a set down about her height, well it was still
her
home. She could toss out whomever she pleased.

Before she could open her mouth, Declan spoke, “Lady Catrina Edwards, may I present Lady Alexandra Kendrick, the Countess of Lochsdale.”

Lady Catrina inclined her head toward Alex, then turned back to Declan. “You don’t really have to remain here, do you, Lord Worthington?”

Declan glanced at Alex, before responding. “I had thought to stay for another week, but under the circumstances, I think we should leave in the next couple of days. You’ll stay here, of course. We can travel back to London together.”

Alex wanted to wipe the gloating smile off Catrina’s face, but Declan’s next comment did that for her.

“Lady Lochsdale will be accompanying us.” Declan gave Catrina an assessing look. “Now that you’re here, do you think you could help Lady Lochsdale with her wardrobe? It’s early in the Season, so she will need several gowns.” Declan must have noticed the slight pout of Catrina’s mouth, because he added, “You have such elegant taste in clothing. With your guidance, Lady Lochsdale should have no difficulty finding a suitor.”

Catrina positively glowed at the mention of a suitor. She crossed to Alex and studied her critically.

The royal blue day gown had seemed like such a good idea this morning, but under Catrina’s scrutiny, Alex felt as if she were dressed in rags.

“It will be difficult,” Catrina lamented. “But with some patches for her face, updated gowns and a wig, she should be presentable.”

“No wig,” Declan stated.

“But Lord Worthington, there are certain events which require—”

“I said no wigs,” Declan commanded, “and leave her hair unpowdered.”

Was anyone going to ask what she wanted? Catrina stood within striking range. It was a good thing Declan still had her knife.

Catrina crossed back to Declan. “As you wish, my lord. I’ll do my best.” She reached up to pat hair that didn’t have a strand out of place. “Would you show me to my room, Lord Worthington? I must be a dreadful sight.” She took his arm and moved with him toward the library door.

Declan smiled down at her. “You’re as beautiful as ever. I’d be pleased to escort you.” They exited, leaving Alex to entertain Morgan.

“Does he always forget other people are in the room when Lady Catrina’s around?” Alex asked dryly.

Morgan wore an odd expression as he shook his head. “It’s not his way to be leaving like that. What have you done to him?”

“What have I done to
him?
” she fumed. “He’s not the one being discussed and insulted.”

Morgan crossed to her. He took her hand and bent over to kiss it. When he straightened, mischief danced in his sherry brown eyes. “When you know him better, wee one, you’ll discover he was running away.”

With that enigmatic statement, he dropped her hand and left the library.

 

“Lady Lochsdale,” Luther said, “I trust you’re fully recovered from the unfortunate incident last week.” Luther glanced briefly in Declan’s direction at the head of the table. “She gave us quite a scare. Didn’t she, Lord Worthington?”

“Incident?” Morgan’s voice held a note of interest. “You’d not be getting into more trouble, Worthington, and me not around.” He gave his head a woeful shake. “You’re always having all the fun.”

Luther shrugged. “It was a poacher with bad aim, nothing more.”

Declan picked up his crystal goblet and swirled the red wine around the inside before giving Luther an assessing stare. “Lady Lochsdale chose to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The doctor assured us she’s received a minor flesh wound.”

“You were shot?” Catrina paled under her powder.

“It was nothing.” Alex didn’t want to talk about her injury. Why couldn’t Luther leave it alone?

She should never have asked him to stay for dinner. His ingratiating manner annoyed her. Luther didn’t believe in being nice, unless he wanted something. And
she
was the something he wanted.

This was all Declan’s fault. It would never have happened if he hadn’t been in the hallway, Lady Catrina still attached to his arm, when Luther arrived. The invitation had come out of her mouth before she could stop it. Now she had to contend with Luther and her uninvited guests.

Declan turned a cool gaze in Alex’s direction. All night long, as he’d played the charming host to his friends, he’d barely noticed her. Why did he choose this moment to pay attention to her?

She was surrounded. Declan at the head of the table to her left, Luther to her right, and Lady Catrina across from her. Tomorrow, she’d be sure to sit between Eleanor and Morgan.

“Lord Worthington,” Catrina purred.

Alex stabbed a glazed carrot with her fork. Was it her imagination, or was that woman’s voice even breathier than before?

Catrina leaned toward Declan and placed her hand on his arm. “I had planned to go riding in the morning, but if the woods aren’t safe, perhaps you should accompany me.”

Catrina’s low cut dress left little to the imagination. If that’s what Declan liked in a woman, it was a good thing Alex had never considered him husband material.

“I’d be pleased to accompany you,” Declan responded, then stared directly at Alex. “I’m sure Lady Lochsdale would like to join us. She has a fondness for early morning rides.” Declan raised his glass in a mock salute to her. “I can’t think of anyone who could give a better tour of the grounds.”

Damn him. It had been a little over a week since her injury, and she’d finally healed enough to take Blade out. How had he guessed she’d planned to ride in the morning? “I don’t think I’d make a very good guide.”

She didn’t want company, especially this company. The feeling was mutual, judging by the pout on Catrina’s lips.

“But I insist.” Declan smiled, showing even, white teeth. “The air will do you good.”

He wasn’t going to let this drop. Alex sighed. “I’ll meet you in the stable at first light, but if you’re not there, I’m leaving without you.”

“Done. Oh, and you ladies will ride sidesaddle, of course.”

Lady Catrina seemed puzzled. “How else would we ride?”

“Lady Alexandra has a habit of riding astride.”

“Lord Worthington, you jest.” Catrina looked scandalized until she realized Declan wasn’t kidding. Then a knowing smile curved her lips.

“Is that one of the reasons you didn’t find a husband at your first Season?” Catrina’s voice was smug. “You poor dear. I understand, not having parents and being raised by your grandfather, you couldn’t be expected to be well-versed in social etiquette. Not to worry, I’m sure I can find you a husband this time.”

“Perhaps Lady Alexandra shouldn’t go at all,” Luther said. “What with her recent injury, she could look for a husband from amongst the local gentry.”

“I’ve promised Lady Alexandra a Season in London.” Declan’s blue eyes narrowed as he studied Luther. “She deserves a large selection of suitors to choose from. Don’t you agree?”

Luther raised his hands, palms upward in a gesture of submission. “I was just making a suggestion. I only want what will make Lady Alexandra happy.”

They were doing it again, talking about her as though she wasn’t in the room.

“Lady Alexandra, do you have any other habits that Society might consider unacceptable?” Catrina gave her a condescending look. “I need to know for your own good. We wouldn’t want you scaring off suitors with scandalous behavior.”

“I’m not sure.” Alex pretended to ponder. She picked up the knife off the platter where Edgar had been carving the roast. The blade was well balanced. “Lord Worthington seems to think I have a problem with sharp objects.”

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