The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (33 page)

Not a moment
later, and as if on cue, they heard the front bell ring.

Gwendolyn
Weston, the elder Dowager Duchess of Worthe, or Duchy, as she was most commonly
referred, had a personality that belied her diminutive stature.  Arriving
at the threshold of the salon a moment later, she glared crossly at her
grandson. 

Alec once
again groaned internally.  Yes, there was no doubt, he was indeed about to
catch hell.  Adorned in an elegant black gown of expensive watered silk
and sporting a small fortune’s worth of jewels, his grandmother looked as if
she were about to dine with the royal family.  She wore just a hint of
cosmetics, and her snowy white hair was as usual, styled into an elegant
coiffure.
 
Despite her age, she held her
back ramrod straight, walked without the assistance of a cane, and still
presented the image of a woman of high-class, old money and classic
elegance.  She was a product of a previous generation, yet still reined as
one of the
ton’s
most influential and
highly respected matriarchs.  His grandmother was also the kindest and
most caring person he had ever known, and he loved her dearly.

“Apparently
if I wish to see my only grandson, I shouldn’t wait around for him to appear on
my doorstep,” she
said,
her tone
satirical.  

“Forgive me
Duchy,” Alec said with a contrite smile.  Walking over he enfolded his
grandmother in a fond embrace.

“Now, now,
do not go wrinkling my gown young man,” she said, despite the fact that she was
hugging him back with surprising force for someone of her advanced years. 

Though her
tone conveyed a sense of irritation, Alec knew it was feigned.  Duchy had
always been warm and loving and he knew that she would gladly take a show of
affection over a wrinkle free skirt any day of the week.  When he was
little, she used to pull him onto her lap and read him stories, never
chastising him for squirming or mussing her gown, and to this day she rarely
had a cross word for her beloved grandson.

Stepping
back, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the
silk-covered settee.  “I’m afraid my solicitor has come down with
something and I have had to pick up a bit of the slack this past week, but
fortunately he is on the mend.
 
Nevertheless, I shall make it up to you, I promise.”

“You work
too hard already Alec,” she told him, her voice now sympathetic, as she sat
down next to his mother.

“I doubt
that he will listen to you any more than he does to me,” his mother said, with
a sidelong glance at Duchy.  “But one of these days he is bound to
discover that there is more to life than work.”

“As both of
you are well aware, I seem to have a talent for making money, and the fact is,
I enjoy managing the family’s business interests.  Besides,” he added with
a derisive grin, “someone has to keep the local shopkeepers in the black. 
If the two of you were to cut back on your spending, it could very well send
the entire economy into a decline.”

“Very
amusing dear,” his mother said humorlessly.

“Perhaps we
should change the subject then,” Alec suggested with a smile, though Duchy’s
next comment had him immediately regretting that decision.

“Your mother
tells me that you have been squiring Vanessa Brookshire about town
recently.” 

Though it
was phrased as a statement, it was actually a question, a pointed one at
that.  “Did she?” he responded, deliberately keeping his tone bland.

When it
became apparent that he wasn’t going to play along, his grandmother gave him a
quelling look.  “Don’t play daft with me young man,” she stated
impatiently.  “Let’s have it.  Are you courting her or not?”

“Isn’t that
what the two of you have been yearning for these past years, that I will
finally show an interest in taking a wife and starting a family?”

“So you
are
courting her?”

Was he?
  He supposed he was, though he
had made no formal request as of yet.  He had escorted her to the theater
the other evening, and once to Vauxhall Gardens, but already tongues were
wagging.  When he’d met Vanessa at a dinner party hosted by the Duke and
Duchess of Stanhope, he had been struck by her delicate beauty and pleasant
disposition.  Having been partnered with her at dinner, he’d had the
opportunity to converse with her at length and had quickly surmised that was
Vanessa was not only intelligent, but seemed to possess a sensible nature as
well.  Though he found her attractive and enjoyed her company, she didn’t
set his blood on fire.  It seemed a perfect combination.  However,
when it came to the thought of marriage, he remained hesitant.  “Don’t get
overly excited Duchy.  I assure you that I haven’t issued any proposals,
if that is what you were hoping for.”

“Do you love
her?” his grandmother asked bluntly.

“I wasn’t
aware that was a prerequisite to marriage,” he responded drolly.

“Nonsense! 
As much as I would like to see you wed, you are much too special to settle for
anything less than a love match, my dear.”

“Honestly
Duchy,” his mother said, casting her eyes toward the ceiling.  “You and
your romantic notions.”

“Just
because you had the misfortune to fall in love with someone who wasn’t capable
of returning your devotion, doesn’t mean Alec has to suffer the same fate.”

“Might I
remind you that the misfortune you refer to happens to have been my marriage to
your own son,” Olivia responded indignantly.

“I of all
people am well-aware of Nathaniel’s shortcomings.  Heaven knows, Edward
and I spoiled him terribly.  Your father was a good man, Alec,” she said,
looking pointedly in his direction, “but everything always came too easily to
him.  Though he had his good qualities, my son never learned to properly
appreciate what he had.”  With a sidelong glance at her daughter-in-law,
she continued on.  “Your mother, despite her disavowals, has always been a
romantic at heart.  She deserved better than to have a womanizer for a
husband, and quite frankly it has made her cynical.”

“I hardly
think Nathaniel’s philandering is an appropriate topic of conversation,” Olivia
stated sharply, with a quelling look toward her mother-in-law.  “Marriages
within the
ton
are seldom based on
love, as you well know.  Vanessa Brookshire comes from an exceptional
family; she’s attractive, amiable and well mannered.  She is an excellent
candidate for Alec’s future duchess.”

Though the
two women got on surprisingly well, Alec was accustomed to their occasional
bickering, and knew better than to try to intercede.  Leaning casually against
the fireplace mantel, he simply observed the contretemps in amused silence,
despite being the subject of it.

“Dimetri
Petrov possessed all of those qualities as well,” Duchy reminded her, referring
to her most infamous suitor, “but instead of marrying a Russian prince, I chose
Edward.  I could have been a princess, but instead, I married for love and
never once regretted that decision.”

“Edward was
a member of one of the most prominent and wealthiest families in England and
heir to a Dukedom.  I hardly think it was a momentous sacrifice.”

“Do not be
impertinent with me, Olivia Weston,” Duchy snapped.  “The point that I am
trying to make, as you well know, is that Alec does not have to settle for
amiable and well-mannered.  He deserves to have the kind of happiness that
his grandfather and I had.  Because of Nathaniel’s faults, you have been
filling my grandson’s head with this rubbish for years, and enough is enough.”

Turning to
Alec, she fixed him with a pointed stare.  “Your grandfather and I were faithful
to each other to the end and fell more in love with one another with each
passing year.”  Rising from her seated position, she walked toward
Alec.  “Though it’s true that most people aren’t fortunate enough to find
the love that Edward and I shared, it isn’t impossible.”  Looking up at
her cherished grandson, she placed her wrinkled hand softly upon his
cheek.  “Yes it’s true that your mother and I are eager to see you wed,
but do not settle for less than you deserve.  Take your time, my
dear.  Find the woman who will bring you a lifetime of love and happiness,
a woman who will share your dreams and make your life complete.  You
mustn’t settle for anything less.
 
You
have grown into such a wonderful man Alec; I want you to be happy.”

Regardless
of his future plans, he was loathe to see his grandmother disappointed. 
“I know you do Duchy,” he replied, taking her slender hand in his.  “I
will do my best not to disappoint you, I promise.”  Tucking her hand into
the crook of his arm once again, he led her over to his mother, and then
offered her his other arm.  “Shall we go to dinner ladies?”

Later that
evening, long after Duchy had returned home and his mother had retired to her
room, Alec was restless.  He’d been pacing back and forth across the floor
of his study for the past hour, his grandmother’s words affecting him more than
he cared to admit.  As they had repeatedly for the past twenty-four hours,
his thoughts turned to Scarlett.  Was she next door at this very minute he
wondered, or was she out once again with William Morton?  And why the hell
did the thought of her with Morton seem to bother him so much?  It was
disconcerting as hell.

Although
he had been with numerous other women since ending his affair with Scarlett,
none of them had ever affected him as she had.  They were simply warm
bodies, the encounters pleasurable, some decidedly more so than others, but
never like it had been with Scarlett.  Not even close. Was Duchy right
then?  Had he foolishly tossed aside something he should have held on to
with all of his might?  He shook his head.
 
No dammit, he had been right to end it.  Recalling just how quickly
Scarlett had turned her attentions to another man was confirmation enough of
that.

Crossing
to the window, he looked out at the moonlit night in growing frustration. He
had made his decision long ago, so why then was he suddenly questioning
himself?  Allowing a woman, any woman to affect him emotionally, would
only lead to disappointment and heartache down the road.  Despite his
grandmother’s optimism, he had seen far too many marriages disintegrate into
cold, faithless unions filled with little more than bitterness and angst. 
If he allowed himself to fall in love, especially with someone like Scarlett,
how could he possible bear it when it all fell apart?

Bloody
hell
, he was tired
of thinking about it, tired of thinking about her, tired of thinking
period.  Despite his earlier decision to spend a quiet evening in, he was
far too agitated to be by himself.  He was going out.

When Alec
arrived at White’s an hour later, he saw that the place was crowded. 
Good, he thought, ready for some much needed distraction from his recurring
thoughts of Scarlett.  Requesting a drink from a passing server, he
glanced about, immediately spotting Rory and Gavin McPhearson seated at one of
the card tables.  As soon as they noticed him, they waved him over. 
“Alec, we’ve got an empty spot at our table, join us,” Rory called.  He
groaned.  Obviously, fate wasn’t on his side.

Taking the
empty seat, he mentally cringed at the topic of their conversation.

“If
Fordham’s pursuing her, I dare say the rest of us don’t stand a chance with
your lovely sister,” Niles Finch, Viscount Herington, bemoaned.  “Well,
except for perhaps Worthe of course,” he added, with a pointed look toward
Alec.

“I am
honored you would think so,” he stated, smiling drolly as he struggled to keep
his tone facetious.  Apparently Niles believed that if anyone could best
William Morton when it came to attracting feminine attention, it would be
him.  He supposed he should feel flattered.  He, like Morton, had the
good looks, wealth and charm that the ladies of their set prized.  In
addition, he already had the title.  William Morton wouldn’t inherit his
own dukedom until his father’s passing, which was of course another point in
Alec’s favor. 

“Any
chance you’ll be giving the marquis a bit of competition?”

All eyes
at the table immediately swung toward him, including Rory and Gavin’s.  By
the looks on their faces, they obviously thought the notion of him courting
their sister was ridiculous.  Their expressions said it all and further
pricked the guilty conscience he had been harboring for the past three
years.  Despite being a family friend, his reputation as an unrepentant
rake could hardly be overlooked.  If they had even the slightest inkling
of what had transpired between him and Scarlett years earlier, he would most
assuredly be a dead man, and deservedly so.

In
response to Niles’ question, Alec merely leaned back in his chair and cocked his
brow.  “If I had wanted to spend the night gossiping, I would have
attended the Haversham’s affair.  I thought we were playing cards,” he
said, his voice reflecting only the slightest irritation.  It was enough
however.  The cards were soon dealt, and the topic of conversation changed
to subjects keen to virtually everyone present, those being fox hunting and
hounds.