Midnight My Love (4 page)

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Authors: Anne Marie Novark

Tags: #betrayal, #historical romance, #regency, #regency romp, #alpha male, #traditional regency, #reunion story, #second chance at love, #friends to lovers, #secondary love story

BOOK: Midnight My Love
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"Show him in," she said, bracing herself for
the worst.

When Rochdale strode into the bookroom, he
looked windblown, as if he'd ridden hard. His eyes swept her from
head to foot with an appraising glance. She met his look
squarely.

"It's Robert, isn't it?" Alexandra asked,
her voice trembling slightly. "He's not . . ." She couldn't finish
the dreadful question, but swayed, feeling as if she might
swoon.

Rochdale was before her in an instant,
supporting her shoulders. "No!" he answered roughly. He let her go
and stepped back. "He's alive. Garr Fleming brought him to me in
London. Robert's been wounded."

"Alive. Thank God," Alexandra breathed in
relief.

"There's more," Damien warned.

Alexandra sank down on the sofa. She looked
anxiously at Rochdale, who held himself in a rigid stance. He was
still so formal, so withdrawn. "More?" she asked blankly.

"Robert was wounded at Barrosa Ridge," he
said. "His horse fell on him and crushed his right arm. The
surgeons couldn't save it."

"No. Oh, no," she whispered. She wouldn't
cry. She must be brave for Robert's sake.

Rochdale walked to the window and looked
out. "Rob wanted me to break the news to you." He turned to face
her. "Your brother is in an extremely vulnerable state. He has
always been strong and active; he's having a difficult time with
his loss."

Alexandra squeezed her hands tightly
together, looking at him. She couldn't think clearly. She was
immensely relieved Robert was alive. But to lose an arm! A
heaviness weighed upon her heart and stomach. She forced herself to
listen to Rochdale.

"The physician in London told me to watch
Rob closely. He said he is suffering from depression and might try
to do himself an injury. He might even contemplate suicide."

Alexandra rose swiftly to her feet. "I must
go to him immediately!"

"Yes," he agreed, "that's why I've come.
Robert needs careful nursing. He's extremely weak--from loss of
blood and the long journey home. I have a carriage waiting to
convey you to Willowmede."

"Pish!" Alexandra swept back a loose curl
from her forehead. "I'll ride. Give me a few minutes to change into
my habit and make the necessary arrangements with the servants.
Aunt Haygood can follow as soon as possible."

"The carriage would be more comfortable,
Miss Turlington," Rochdale said.

"It will be faster on horseback. I've been
sick with worry for months. I want to see Robert as soon as
possible." She hated how he continued to call her Miss Turlington,
when once they'd been so close.

"As you wish," Rochdale said with a slight
nod of his head.

Alexandra pulled the bell. The butler was on
the alert and came instantly. "Bentley, Robert has been wounded. I
must go to Willowmede at once. Have a groom fetch Cosmos from the
stables. And tell Mrs. Crawford to serve Rochdale some coffee." She
smiled gratefully at the viscount as Bentley went away to do her
bidding. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes." She was gone on the
words.

****

When Alex entered her bedchamber, her maid
was waiting. Maggie, learning the master of Willowmede was wounded,
quickly helped her mistress into her black riding habit, then
secured a smart black hat on Alexandra's head.

"Is my aunt awake yet?" she asked the maid,
adjusting the hat more comfortably.

"Yes, Miss. She's having her tea in bed.
It's lemon verbena this morning."

"I wonder what she's trying to cure today,"
murmured Alexandra. Aunt Haygood believed all things could be cured
with the right mixture of herbs. If only that were true.

Alex grabbed her riding crop and gloves.
Striding down the hall, she knocked and entered her aunt's
bedchamber. Aunt Haygood, wrapped in a green silken robe adorned
with giant cabbage roses, sat in bed sipping her tea.

She smiled on her niece. "Come in, my dear,
come in. Where are you off to so early?"

"Rochdale has brought Robert home, Aunt.
He's very ill. We haven't heard from him in so long because he was
wounded in battle," Alex explained as she drew on her calf-skin
gloves. "I'm leaving immediately with Rochdale. Jenny can help see
to the packing, then you can follow in the carriage."

Aunt Haygood sat straight up in bed. "Oh,
dear! Is Robert going to be all right? How bad is he?"

Upon receiving assurances
that he was not at death's door, she eyed her niece with misgiving.
"Alexandra Turlington! Do
not
tell me you are going to ride
alone
with Lord Rochdale! It would
be highly improper! Why he's the biggest libertine in England!" She
straightened her cap and leaned back against the plump pillows.
"Robert is in safe hands at Willowmede. It would be much better to
wait for Jenny and me. It won't take us long to get ready, then we
can all go comfortably in the carriage."

Alex kissed her aunt's cheek. "I have no
time to wait for the packing and the dawdling pace of the carriage.
Robert needs me now, Aunt."

"Promise me, you'll ride side-saddle,"
implored Miss Haygood. "You know how I disapprove of your
unmaidenly desire to ride astride. It's bad enough when you ride
like a hoyden at Willowmede, but you must practice decorum in
public or you shall ruin your reputation."

"I'll do the proper until we are out of
Bath," Alex promised.

"And you will take a groom, won't you,
dearest?" pleaded her aunt.

"Don't get into one of your pothers," Alex
said, deftly avoiding the issue. "I'll be fine. I expect to see you
and Jenny at Willowmede by dinner time." Alexandra kissed her aunt
goodbye and left the room.

Down the hall, she tapped on the door of
Jenny's bedchamber with her riding crop and peeked into the room.
Jenny sat at the dressing table, waiting patiently for her maid to
finish winding her long silky braids around the crown of her
head.

Alex walked in and gave her a quick hug.
"I've come to tell you I'm off to Willowmede. Rochdale has brought
Robert home. He's been wounded and needs nursing."

Jenny's gray eyes dilated and her face paled
alarmingly. Alex knew her friend loved Robert like a brother. When
she and Jenny were in school, they had spent many vacations
together at Willowmede. Grabbing the vinaigrette, Alex waved it
under Jenny's nose.

"Thank you, dearest," Jenny whispered. "That
is quite enough. How bad is he hurt?"

"He's lost an arm," Alex explained
gently.

Jenny took the vinaigrette from her and
sniffed it again. "Lost an arm, you say?"

"Yes, and he's extremely weak and needs me.
Rochdale is waiting below. We're leaving at once. You and Aunt
Haygood can start out this afternoon."

"Of course," Jenny said, her color slowly
returning. "I'm sorry, Alex. I don't know what came over me. It
must have been the shock--to suddenly receive tidings about Robert,
after not hearing anything for months." She summoned up a smile.
"Now, don't worry about things here. I'll help your aunt with
everything."

Turning back toward her dressing table, she
caught Alexandra's eyes in the mirror. "Will you be all right with
Rochdale?"

Alex gripped her riding crop tightly in her
hands. "Yes, he's been kindness itself. He's taken care of Robert,
accompanied him to Willowmede all the way from London, and rode
here with the news."

Jenny dismissed her maid and rose from her
dressing table. "Well, I'm glad to see there's some good in the man
they call Demon. Will you really be all right riding alone with
him, dearest?"

Alexandra shrugged a
shoulder. "I'll be fine. I've refined too much on that incident in
the observatory--it was so long ago. And it
was
only a kiss. He probably doesn't
even remember. I've made up my mind to accept Carlisle's proposal
and get on with my life. But first, I must see to
Robert."

 

CHAPTER THREE

Damien waited outside with
his horse until Alexandra emerged from the house. She had taken the
news of her brother quite well. No tears or hysterics like most
women would enact. She
had
swayed, and he'd thought she might faint. He
remembered the exquisite feel of her delicate shoulders under his
hands when he had caught her. The worry in her emerald eyes had
almost been his undoing, and he had resolutely pushed her away. He
had wanted to comfort her, yet could not. He'd foolishly given up
that privilege long ago.

A Turlington groom led a sleek black
stallion around from the mews. Damien noticed there was a
regulation saddle instead of a lady's side-saddle on Alex's horse.
He was about to ask the groom if he'd made a mistake, but forgot
what he was going to say when the door opened and Alex skipped
lightly down the steps.

She looked unbelievably beautiful in her
severe black habit with a split skirt. A froth of white lace
nestled at her throat, and a tiny hat sat jauntily on her head.
When the groom helped Alexandra onto her horse, Damien quickly
turned to adjust his girth. He sought to control the irrational
urge to knock the servant down, simply for touching her. The
feelings were idiotic; he was behaving like a mooncalf. He must
repress such absurd emotions. She was only a woman, after all.

Mounting his horse, Damien looked toward
Alex. She was seated sideways on the saddle. She waved the groom
aside, leaving him behind as they headed north toward Willowmede.
Shortly after passing the city gates, Alexandra came to an abrupt
halt and dismounted before Rochdale knew what was happening.

"What the devil?" H pulled on the reins and
turned his horse around.

"I won't be but a moment," Alex said. "I'll
cover ground more quickly if I sit astride. Would you please help
me remount and then we can be on our way?"

"My pleasure," he said, unable to hide an
appreciative grin. She'd always been a headstrong little thing. He
dismounted and stood looking down at her for a long moment,
admiring the fine contours of her lovely face. The grin swiftly
faded when his eyes fell to her lips. They were soft and red like
rosebuds. He knew how she tasted. He wanted to taste her again.

Swallowing hard, Damien grasped her waist,
tossed her up in the saddle and quickly relinquished his hold.

With cheeks flushed, Alexandra settled her
divided skirt. "Thank you. May we now proceed?" Her breathless
voice gave evidence to the fact she wasn't immune to his touch.

Damien held her gaze. She didn't look away,
but instead lifted her chin. "I hope I haven't shocked you," she
said, clasping the reins in a firm grip. "As you can see, I still
prefer to ride astride. In town, I ride side-saddle, of course. I'm
not completely lost to all convention."

She gave her horse the office to start and
left Damien standing in the middle of the road, staring after
her.

When he caught up, Alexandra stood in the
stirrups and surveyed the landscape. "Let's cut across those
fields. We'll make better time if we do."

"Lead on, Miss Turlington," he said. If she
preferred to ignore what had just passed between them, that was
fine by him. It was for the best, really.

They rode cross-country, jumping fences and
stiles instead of keeping to the roads. Alexandra had always been
an excellent horsewoman with good bottom and light hands. Damien
thought she sat her horse better than most women; better, in fact,
than many men of his acquaintance.

"Now, just over that rise and we'll be
there," she said, pointing her riding crop toward the west. She
urged her mount to a faster gait, and Damien gently spurred his own
horse. It wasn't long before they rode up the gravel drive and
stopped in front of the gabled Elizabethan manor house of
Willowmede.

Damien helped Alexandra to dismount, unable
to resist the opportunity to touch her again. His inability to keep
his hands to himself didn't bode well for the visit. "Go on," he
said gruffly. "Robert is eager to see you. I'll tend to the horses
and then join you."

Alexandra threw him a strange glance and ran
up the steps. What was she thinking? Why should he care? Damien
shook his head. Why was he so drawn to this particular woman?

Leading the horses to the stables, he
clenched his fists around the reins. He could still feel the warmth
of her body through the thick layers of her riding habit. He could
still smell her unique scent that had haunted him all these
years.

Was he tempting fate by remaining at
Willowmede? He was treading dangerous waters and knew it. For more
reasons than he cared to acknowledge, Damien hoped Robert made a
quick recovery.

****

Once she'd entered the house and climbed the
stairs, Alexandra hesitated outside her brother's bedroom door.
Would Robert be changed? How would he receive her? At her knock,
the valet opened the door and allowed her to enter his master's
chamber.

Looking toward the bed, she asked quietly,
"Is he awake?"

"Yes, Miss. He's been asking for you this
hour or more." Alexandra walked slowly to the bed, her eyes filling
with tears as Robert turned his head and smiled tiredly at her.
"Oh, Robbie!" she cried, throwing herself on her knees beside the
bed. She laid her head on his broad chest. It broke her heart to
see her big strong brother looking so pale and weak.

Robert stroked her hair. "Alex," he
whispered. He hugged her to him with his good arm, as she started
to cry.

After a few moments,
Alexandra wiped her eyes. Groping in her pocket, she pulled out a
delicate lawn handkerchief and blew her nose. "I've been
so
worried! Why didn't
you write? Someone should have notified me. Oh God! I'm so glad
you're home and safe."

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and
hushed. "The Foreign Office would have contacted you, but I told
them not to. I intended to write to you myself, but I was so weak I
couldn't write or even dictate a letter. And as time passed, I
found I didn't want to."

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