Wicked Angel (37 page)

He had forgotten what she meant to this little brood. He had been so engrossed in his own desires, he had forgotten that at Rosewood, Lauren unselfishly bestowed the treasure of human touch on each and every one of those orphans. He had forgotten, and he could not have possibly loved her more than he did at that moment.

His chest swollen with pride, he watched for a long while from the shadows of the hedge, truly touched by her ability to make each child feel special. When Withers at last led the nag away, Lydia stepped in and began to gather the other children. Lauren reminded Lydia that Cook promised oranges before Mr.

Goldthwaite came for them. The children, chattering among themselves, filed from the paddock toward the garden, Horace terrorizing them with strategic pokes from his wooden sword. Alex stepped into the cover of the hedge as they passed. Lauren lagged behind to retrieve Sally's discarded doll and Theodore's forgotten book before following them.

She walked through the paddock gate, passing him.

Alex stepped from the shadows of the hedge, his voice failing him for a moment. "
Lauren
," he choked.

She froze in mid-stride. He did not so much as breathe as she cast her gaze heavenward, her eyes filled with poignant hope. His heart surged with emotion as she turned slowly toward him, her eyes seeking him in the late afternoon shadows. When she found him, her lips parted slightly and her eyes widened, as if she did not believe what she saw. God, she was so beautiful, so earnest, so hopeful, so…

"
No
," she whispered, shaking her head.

Instinctively, he reached for her. "Lauren, I—"

"No!" she said again, staring at him as if at an apparition.

His hand fell, dangling at his side. "I know you were not expecting this," Alex said evenly, despite his racing heart.

She stared at him, obviously unable to fathom his appearance. She said just one word. "No."

Dammit, he had planned what he would say and how he would say it, but at the moment, he could not remember a bloody thing. He glanced uncertainly around him, desperately trying to think.

She moved backward, away from him. "I want you," he suddenly blurted. Her eyes fluttered wide as saucers. And to his utter amazement, she turned and walked away, toward the stables.

Because she could not
breathe
. What did he think, that he could waltz into the paddock and announce
that
after all she had been through? It was bad enough to be caught so off guard by him, to be so instantly disoriented by those incredible green eyes. Her heart was
still
pounding, her throat dry. He was beautiful, so very beautiful, and had just deepened the wound in her heart. It was too much to be
borne
, not after crying herself to sleep night after night, mourning him! Not after agreeing to marry Magnus! Hot tears began to press against the back of her throat as she walked blindly into the stables. She could
kill
him for this!

Her anger melted away to fear the moment she realized he had followed her, his powerful presence immediately filling the stable. She brought a hand to her neck, wondering if she might have to claw her

shirt open just so she could breathe. Behind her, he cleared his throat. "Believe me, that most definitely was
not
what I intended to say," he said apologetically.

She was mute, stunned into silence. She could feel him surround her, knew he was closely examining every inch of her. Mortified that he should see her deep hurt, she hugged herself tight, hoping against hope he would not see the tremors that racked her body. She sensed him moving even closer and felt a panic rise in her throat that bordered on delirium.

"Lauren, please look at me." The softness of his voice wafted across her like a breeze, and she clamped her mouth shut, knowing her emotion would betray her if she spoke.

"You are trembling." His light touch on her shoulder scorched her like a flame. She started violently, staggering several steps away from him. "I know you are angry," he said quietly.

She was not angry, she was
devastated
. She could not help herself; she sliced a heated gaze across him.

"Angry does not
begin
to describe how I feel," she croaked, immediately despising herself for sounding so wounded.

Alex nodded slowly and looked thoughtfully at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. "I did not lie to you. London, that night—it meant everything to me," he said quietly. He slowly lifted his gaze. "I have fallen in love with you, Lauren. Hopelessly and completely. I think of you constantly and dream of you at night. I want you to be with me always, and God help me, I do not think I can live without you."

He looked so earnest and sounded so sincere that Lauren gasped softly, touched to her very soul. But it could not be true. Dear God, the man would be
married
in a matter of days—
earlier
, if he could have convinced Marlaine!

"I am astonished, your grace," she murmured coolly, noticing his wince. "Perhaps you think I should
forget
that you begged Lady Marlaine to elope with you after that night!" she stammered angrily. " '
One
foot in sea, and one on shore, To one thing constant never!
'

Alex's complexion darkened. "Who told you that?" he demanded, ignoring the poetic knife in his gut.

"
She
did!" she cried, her voice breaking. "How could you do it? How could you
love
me like that if you loved her? But then, I
begged
you to love me, didn't I?" She laughed hysterically, choking on it.

Alex took a step toward her, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Lauren, listen very carefully to what I am saying to you. I love
you
, no other, more than I have ever loved anyone in my life.

I have come here to ask you… no
beg
you—" he paused, glancing wildly about the stable. "I have broken my engagement with Marlaine ," he said simply. "There will be no wedding."

She did not think it possible to hurt any more, but those words killed her. The stalls seemed to tilt; she could not, she
would
not believe him! Oh
God
, did he not understand? He had come too
late!
His eyes darted across her face, anxiously gauging her reaction. She could not look at him and squeezed her eyes shut. She hated him for saying the one thing she had prayed to hear, the
one
thing that could break her heart. It was too damned late. "I am sorry for Lady Marlaine," she forced herself to say, and slowly opened her eyes. "But I will marry Magnus."

Raw anger flashed in his green eyes. "Have you heard a bloody word I have said?" he roared.

Lauren stepped backward. "What did you expect me to do? Wait for a stolen moment here or there?

Lurk about London hoping to catch a glimpse of you and your wife at some afternoon assembly?" she cried.

"Do not antagonize me, little girl. I have been to the edge of
hell
and back in my desire to find you and set this matter to rights! Ending my engagement was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, but I did it because I
love
you!" he bellowed.

"I am not a
fool!
" she shrieked. Alex's eyes narrowed and he began to stroll toward her, his raw power thinly disguised by his graceful, almost catlike movement. Lauren took several steps backward. "I will marry Magnus," she heard herself say, "and you cannot stop me! Dear God, it is the only thing I can do now!"

"I think you must be quite deaf! I said that I
love
you! I have never said that to another living soul! Do you not
hear
me?"

Oh, she heard him, all right, and if he said it one more time, she was going to have to beg for a truce and lie down in a stall until her heart stopped pounding so erratically. If only he knew how those words wrenched her gut, how she had longed for him to love her! She was already sentenced to a life of hell, knowing she would be haunted by her desire for him, and now he sought to torture her with declarations that were meaningless.

"I
heard
you," she said, fighting a sob. "But it is too
late
, do you not understand that? It is
so
very late; I cannot help but wonder
why
… Why now? Dear God, why now? Just go back to London and find another woman to amuse you—"

"I cannot," he breathed. "Unfortunately for us both, apparently, it's
you
I want."

"You want me as your
mistress!
You said you would find a way for us, and I thought… but you asked her to elope with you!"

"I wanted you then as I want you now, Lauren—with me always, at my table, in my arms, sleeping next to me," he said earnestly.

"But you
asked
her!"

Impossibly, his face darkened even more. "I bloody well
know
what I asked her!" he snapped. "In a moment of uncertainty, I had to know if she could possibly fill my soul—"

Lauren gasped and turned away, fighting for air, but Alex stubbornly continued. "God in heaven, there was so much at stake, Lauren. Others were depending on me, needing me to lead them, to set an example. But I—I
cannot
be without you. I know that now, but it was
not
a decision I reached lightly!"

She pressed her hands against her abdomen as the full weight of what he had done began to sink in. The reforms. Good God, he had risked his influence over important economic reforms—reforms that Rosewood had desperately needed to survive. Reforms that would benefit the children, others like them… No, she could not let that happen. She could not be responsible when so many others…

Alex suddenly caught her from behind and jerked her hard to his chest. The impact knocked the breath from her, and she gulped for air as he nuzzled his face against her neck, sending a wave of unwelcome longing crashing through her. "Let me soothe your melancholy, sweetheart. Let me wash your guilt away,"

he whispered hoarsely.

The poignant use of the poem she had sent him in her darkest hour was her undoing; she swallowed a violent sob and pivoted in his arms. He cradled her face in his hands, peering deeply into her eyes. "I will

not lose you again," he breathed, and crushed his mouth to hers, devouring her. She surrendered easily, abandoning everything to him. Love and desire swirled through her, and she responded with the intensity of those powerful emotions, groping for him, until her thoughts began to cloud her passion. Her conscience would not let her abandon herself completely to him; images of Magnus swept across her mind's eye, the recognition of Alex's importance in the Lords. Her passion began to ebb, flowing out like the tide and allowing guilt to seep in. She suddenly broke away, shaking her head.

"Don't stop," he rasped in her ear.

"You shouldn't have come here," she whispered. She felt him stiffen. Wearily, he laid his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. "I can't be with you, Alex. You have to leave."

His head jerked up at that. "
Never
," he said roughly.

No, never, please God, never
, she silently prayed, but pushed softly against his chest. "Maybe it's not too late. If you go back to London—"

"What in the hell are you saying?" he demanded.

"I can't be with you," she said again, her voice quivering.

Alex slowly dropped his hands to his sides. Lauren stepped away, flattening her back against a stall, fighting the urge to fling herself into his arms again. There was simply too much at stake. His expression was disbelieving, incredulous. But he had to believe it.

Pivoting on her heel, she fled the stables, blinded by tears.

She ended up in Abbey's favorite sitting room. Like a wild animal, she paced around the sewing baskets, books, and magazines scattered about the floor, intermittently crying and suppressing a rifling anguish.

Oh, God, why had he come and made such a bloody mess of everything? No, there was no
mess
, she angrily reminded herself, other than her state of mind. Ethan had signed the betrothal agreement, had already posted the banns. What of Magnus? Good
God
, how could she look at him having heard Alex's declaration of love? How could she
lie
with him on their wedding night? That monumental event was just days away—even now, he was in Portsmouth, readying his ship to take her to Bavaria.

To take her away from Alex.

With a sob, Lauren whirled toward the windows overlooking the gardens.
Bavaria
. Where she would wake each morning to the memory of his words:
I love you, no other, more than I have ever loved
anyone in my life
. She gasped in abject pain.

When the door quietly opened Lauren spun around, half-afraid it was Alex and she would lose all reason.

But it was Abbey who entered, balancing a tray with a flagon and two tankards. Lauren hastily wiped the tears from her face as her friend carefully placed the heavy tray on a stool. Abbey did not look at her as she knelt on her knees next to the stool. "Michael sent Mr. Goldthwaite to Rosewood with the children,"

she said quietly, "and Alexa is in bed." Lauren did not answer, afraid she would break apart if she did.

Abbey poured a tankard of ale and held it out to Lauren with a sheepish smile. "It's my favorite. Whiskey may seem more appropriate to you at the moment, but it does not go down quite as smoothly." Lauren could not move; she stared at the tankard. "It's none of my affair, but I am guessing things did not go particularly well," Abbey said, and with her head, motioned toward the tankard.

Slowly, Lauren walked across the room, fell to her knees across from Abbey, and took the tankard. "He has ended his engagement," she said bluntly, and took a long swallow of the foul liquid.

Abbey poured a tankard for herself and settled on the floor, leaning against an overstuffed couch.

"Michael told me.

Lauren slid to her hips, perching her shoulder against the couch, and stared into the tankard. "He says he
loves
me." She almost choked on the words.