Winning a Lady's Heart (4 page)

Alexandra ignored her mother’s indignant rant. She rubbed a hand over the iced window. After four very long days, they had arrived. She peered up and up and up…to the impressive visage of Danby Castle. It was a foreboding stone testament to medieval times. A perfectly daunting place for a dour, commanding duke to live.

There was a perfunctory knock on the carriage door. Alexandra grasped the door handle and flung it open before Mother could issue the command. She accepted the hand of a waiting footman, eager to get out of the carriage that had seemed more like a coffin. In it, she’d been trapped for the better part of two and a half days with tortured thoughts of—

Alexandra gave her head a forceful shake, banishing memories of…of…
him
.

The day was dark and dreary. Finally, she had her miserable day to suit her miserable mood. And of course, that too brought no solace.

“What a beautiful day. It has snowed! How beautiful Danby Castle looks with the gleam of ice and coating of snow,” Olivia prattled.

Her sister’s words were so convincing, Alexandra had to steal another peek around to confirm whether she’d judged Danby Castle too harshly.

No, no, she had the right of it.

Wordlessly, Alexandra followed her mother, grateful for her loquacious sister’s distracting presence. They hadn’t even reached the front doors before the butler threw them open in greeting. He bowed low. The housekeeper, Mrs. Ealey, stood beside him and offered a deep curtsey.

“Lady Tewkesbury, my ladies,” Milne said.

Two servants rushed forward to assist them out of their travel-worn velvet cloaks.

Their mother, ever the epitome of regal elegance, even after hours and hours of uninterrupted travel, tipped her head in acknowledgement.

“The Duke of Danby requests your presence.”

“Now?” her mother squawked.

So much for regal elegance.

Milne nodded. “Now, my lady.”

Her mother eyed the long stairway longingly, and then with a sigh followed Milne to the Duke of Danby’s lair. At least Alexandra would be spared…for now.

Perhaps His Grace would place blame for Alexandra’s actions on her mother. Oh, what a horribly childish, albeit optimistic, wish.

“My ladies, may I show you to your rooms?”

Alexandra spared a distracted glance for the expectant housekeeper. What had the woman said? Olivia nudged Alexandra in the side.

“Uh, that would be lovely, Mrs. Ealey,” Olivia supplied for her.

As they made the climb to the living quarters and down the hall, Alexandra rubbed her hands together, hoping the friction would warm the near frozen appendages. From inside her battered soul to her travel-bruised body, she was utterly miserable.

“The Duke of Danby has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Oh, I bet he has.

“Why, I can’t remember the last time I saw His Grace this excited.”

Excited? Was that a kind word for livid?

Her non-responses were clearly no deterrent for the housekeeper, who chatted on and on. Alexandra continued to follow Mrs. Ealey in mute silence. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…

“Twenty-five steps.”

The older woman paused at the top of the stairway and blinked. “I’m sorry, my lady?”

“She was counting,” Olivia explained.

Mrs. Ealey’s brow furrowed in perplexity. “Beg pardon?”

Alexandra glared her sister into silence. “It is nothing at all.”

The woman turned, continued down the long corridor, and paused before a door. She opened it for Alexandra. “Here we are, my lady.”

Thank goodness. There was nothing more she wanted in that moment than to shut the door, ring for a hot bath to soak her aching muscles, and then bury herself beneath a mound of warmed blankets.

Olivia had other plans for Alexandra. “That will be all for now, Mrs. Ealey. If you’ll excuse us.”

“Very well.” The housekeeper directed her focus to Alexandra. “The Duke of Danby requests your presence in half an hour.”

Her eyes slid closed and she sighed. “Of course he does. What could be finer?”

Apparently the housekeeper couldn’t think of anything else, for she failed to respond.

“Alexandra, Olivia. My dear cousins, it is so splendid to see you.”

Alexandra started at the unexpected interruption. She turned to face her cousin, Lady Emma, the daughter of the Danby dukedom heir and…

A handsome gentleman beside her bowed.

If Alexandra hadn’t been so tired, if she hadn’t had her heart broken, if she wasn’t more than slightly rumpled from their long carriage ride, she would have been more intrigued. As it was, she could only muster a faint curiosity for the man standing so close to her cousin.

Then he looked down at Emma, with such loving adoration that Alexandra nearly pitched over with the intensity of jealous pain.

“Oh dear Alexandra, it is so good to see you,” Emma greeted warmly. “May I introduce you to my husband, Lord Heathfield. Heath, these are my cousins, Lady Alexandra and Lady Olivia.”

“A pleasure, my ladies,” Heathfield murmured.

Alexandra answered for the sisters. “Likewise, my lord.”

Husband?

Oh, Alexandra would love to know the story there. Someday. Not now. Not when she needed to get inside her chambers, shut the door, and curl herself up into a weepy ball on the bed.

“Husband,” Olivia blurted. “You’ve gone and gotten yourself married?”

Oh, sweet Olivia, never able to conceal a thought.

Emma flushed. “I have.”

Olivia eyed Heathfield speculatively. “He looks like a nice enough chap. Then I thought the same thing about Pembroke.”

Alexandra’s eyes slid closed in mortification. Dead. She would kill her sister. Still there was no need to assume that Emma or Heathfield knew anything about Nathan’s courtship and her subsequent scandal.

“I believe what my sister intended to say was congratulations.” Alexandra cast a longing glance through the doorway to the hideously cheery pink bedchambers.

Thankfully, Lord Heathfield was far more astute than the other two ladies present, for he took Emma by the arm and attempted to steer her away. “Come, Emma, Lady Alexandra and Lady Olivia have been traveling for some time and are assuredly in need of rest.”

Heaven bless him.

Emma dug her heels in. “We cannot leave her alone,” she protested, giving a very pointed look in Alexandra’s direction, “considering the Scandal and all,” she finished on a very loud whisper.

Alexandra’s eyes slid closed. “Oh, goodness, everyone knows already?”

Emma responded before Heathfield could answer. “Well, Heath and I know, of course, and Izzy. And Father and Mother.”

Ah, so yes, everyone knew.

Alexandra stared through the open doorway, unseeing, at the large bed at the center of the room. Her body’s need for sleep and the earlier pain of her muscles was all forgotten as reality intruded. Had she been foolish enough to believe she could escape the scandal at Danby Castle?

She swayed on her feet.

Heathfield gripped her arm. “Whoa,” he said in a steadying voice. He looked at his wife. “Perhaps you should help her inside and have her rest for a bit,” he suggested.

Emma looked at him as though he were a knight in shining armor.

“Go,” he urged.

Alexandra pushed her words out on a whisper. “I’m fine.” She didn’t even manage to convince herself of it, for Emma and Olivia took her by the arms and led Alexandra over to a ridiculously tiny wooden chair with pink floral upholstery.

Olivia trotted across the room to close the door.

Alexandra sat heavily and dropped her head into her hands. Thoughts of Nathan’s courtship, the time they’d spent together, and the poems he’d read flooded her. He’d made her fall in love with him so easily. What a fool she’d been. “What have I done?”

“After a rapid courtship by the Earl of Pembroke, who you fancied yourself in love with, you went and made an utter cake of yourself,” Olivia said dryly.

A snort of shocked laughter escaped Emma. She swatted her cousin on the arm. “Where is your sense of romance? He courted her. Took her sledding.”

“Skating,” Alexandra corrected.

“Waltzed with her,” Emma continued as though Alexandra hadn’t interjected. “She
loved
him.” She shot a look at Alexandra. “You did love him, right?”

Had she loved him? Each morning, she’d hopped out of bed, excited about rising because she knew she’d see him. When he’d partnered her in a set, she hadn’t worried over her clumsy feet because she knew he would always rescue her and guide her effortlessly through the set. Just then she could count more than fifty reasons she loved him. Had loved him.

“Yes, I loved him,” she whispered.

Olivia nodded at Alexandra. “And look at what it has gotten her.”

And there was still the Duke of Danby to deal with. “Is he furious?” Alexandra’s frightened tone left little question as to which he she referenced.

Emma chewed her lip and peered around the room in a vain attempt at nonchalance. “What?” Alexandra pressed. “What?”

Emma opened her mouth to speak but there was a rap on the door.

“Enter,” Olivia called.

A maid popped in. “His Grace is ready for you now.”

“Lady Alexandra will be down momentarily,” Olivia informed the maid who dipped a curtsey and closed the door.

Alexandra wanted to wail. “That was hardly thirty minutes.”

Emma laughed gaily. “Don’t you know Grandpapa controls time as well?”

Alexandra thought about the alacrity with which Danby had found out about her scandal at the Williams’s ball and the short amount of time it had taken him to send round a note
requesting
her presence.

She sighed. Danby controlled more than time. He controlled everything and everyone.

“You!”

Nathan set his steaming cup of black coffee down and opened his mouth to speak—

“You foul, despicable cad. Whatever are you doing here?”

Even being only guest seated at the Duke of Danby’s dining room table, Nathan still glanced around to verify he was in fact the intended recipient of such vitriol.

“Good morning, Lady Olivia.”

If looks could kill, well then Nathan would be sitting in a pile of ash at the bottom of his half-drunk cup of black coffee.

“Good morning? It was a
splendid
morning until, until…
this
!”

Olivia had always been a warm and teasing towards him. He’d come to view her as a younger sister. The loathing in her young gaze struck him with an aching sense of loss. Could he blame her? She was fiercely loyal to Alexandra.

He gestured to the sideboard loaded with breakfast meats and flaky pastries. “Perhaps you might like to join me for breakfast.” His pointed look at the servant whose eyes were downcast was a subtle reminder. Servants talked.

Which apparently Lady Olivia cared not one bit about.

“I’d sooner join you in Hades.”

Well, she hadn’t said she’d never join him, so perhaps all was not lost with little Olivia.

“Nay,” she bit off. “I would never, ever join you anywhere. Why if I were a man, I’d call you out for how you hurt Alex.”

He sighed and took a distracted sip of his coffee. It hardly boded well for his cause if Alexandra’s sister wanted to call him out. Nathan could only imagine what Alexandra wished to do to him. Have him drawn and quartered?

Regardless of Olivia’s glaring fury, she moved further in the room, closer to Nathan’s seat. Clearly, for all her fury, she had reasons for not quitting his presence.

He took another sip and then set his cup down, holding it between his hands while he looked at her expectantly.

“Why did you do it?” she asked angrily. “How could you hurt her? She loved you. Even though Father warned her you were a blackguard, she trusted you.”

Nathan’s hand tightened so hard around the cup between his fingers he nearly shattered the glass. Telling his fingers to release the cup, he set them on his lap.

The truth was not for Olivia’s ears. She was a child. And even if she weren’t an innocent girl, Alexandra deserved to hear the words spoken from his lips first.

“I do not have a good enough answer for you, Olivia.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed to small slits. “That is
Lady
Olivia.”

He sighed. “My apologies, Lady Olivia.”

Motioning to the seat next to him, he waited with bated breath to see what she would do.

With arms folded across her chest, Olivia stood there glaring at him for the better part of two minutes. When ascertaining that he was not going anywhere, she tugged out her own seat, waving a servant off.

“Aren’t you going to make a plate?” he asked.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Are you daft? A plate? How could you be so cavalier?”

Well, his intentions had been gentlemanly. Apparently he’d missed the mark. And badly. It would seem her intentions were to sit there and harangue him for his deplorable treatment of Alexandra.

It was no less than he deserved.

“So?”

Nathan arched a brow.

A beleaguered sigh escaped Olivia. “So what do you have to say on it?”

“Nothing that would earn your understanding, Olivia.”

Her jaw set resolutely. “No, you are probably right on that score. Lady Olivia,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

He dipped in head. “Again, my apologies,
Lady
Olivia.”

An uneasy silence descended, the two of them sitting their eyeing each other warily. Reaching for his cup, Nathan found it empty. He set it aside and drummed his fingertips distractedly on the tabletop.

Olivia eyed them with no small amount of annoyance. “Must you do that?”

Faced with Olivia’s icy displeasure, he brought them to a sudden stop. The palpable tension urged him up and out of the hostile dining room. Yet the alternative, finding a recently wed, blissfully happy relative of Alexandra’s, nauseated him. So he opted to remain there, seated next to his feisty adversary.

An adversary who at the moment was stretching her neck and perusing the elaborate spread on the sideboard, before directing her attention to his untouched dish of baked eggs and toast and gingerbread.

“That is the last of the gingerbread.” Her tone was accusatory.

A quick look at the sideboard confirmed her findings.

Wordlessly, he shoved the plate over towards Olivia, who eyed it with a blend of longing and reluctance.

“Take it,” he urged.

Olivia snatched it and nibbled an edge. “I took it, but only because you don’t deserve it.”

“I do not disagree on that score.”

Even with the table as a barrier, he still heard her stomping a foot under the table in frustration. “You aren’t supposed to be agreeable to everything I say. And you certainly shouldn’t be giving the last gingerbread treat to me.”

For the first time since he’d scratched the bloody wager down in the books at White’s, Nathan smiled. Olivia didn’t wait for him to speak.

“I don’t believe a man such as you is even capable of love.”

Nathan flinched. Now that hurt. For all the mistakes he’d made, for his betrayal of Alexandra, he had never for one moment ceased to love her with such depth that it frightened him with its intensity. The moment he’d seen her stamping through Lady Williams’s card room, her face etched in agony, Nathan had felt the only part of him that resembled something good wither and die in his chest. He had been the monster to inflict a pain deep enough to harden the perpetual smile in her eyes.

“Well, what do you say to that?” Olivia pressed, jerking him to the moment.

“I’d say I would agree with you on most scores today with the exception of that charge. I loved your sister. I still do.”

Olivia’s mouth fell gaping open. “I don’t believe you.”

So now he was a liar. Which in thinking on it, Olivia was correct there as well.

She continued. “I am certain there are many good, honorable gentlemen out there, men who will give freely of their heart. You, sir, are not one of those men. I can no longer sit here and converse freely with you.”

A servant rushed forward and pulled her seat out. She climbed from it as regally as if she were the lady of the manor and stormed from the room.

Nathan stared several moments at the open doorway and noted when Olivia cautiously reappeared. Clearing her throat, she glided back towards the table and snatched the partially eaten gingerbread up. “I still say you do not deserve the treat.”

With that, she took her exit.

And confirmed his road to winning Alexandra back was going to be an arduous one, indeed.