Dunsaney's Desire (Historical Romance)

by Brianna York

  "You're always starving," Alex said, a slight scold in her voice. "I really don't understand how you stay in such fabulous form." At Matthew's slanted glance at her own well-filled plate, she murmured, "All right so I'm hungrier than usual today." Her own words surprised her. A night tossing and turning before she finally cried herself to sleep in the earliest hours of the morning out of sheer frustration should not lend itself to a larger than usual appetite, but she was not going to complain. She needed to remember not to drive herself to utter distraction over Forrest, even if she was going to be forced to spend time around him every day for the next week. The thought was enough to turn her stomach with sudden nerves, and she quickly put away thoughts of Forrest.

  "Morning," Julian stood in the doorway, hands clasped behind his tense back. Instead of getting his breakfast, however, he hovered just over the threshold, glancing pensively back and forth from Alex to Matthew and back again.

  "Good morning, Jules," Alex replied with a soft smile to encourage the young man into the room.

  Matthew glanced up from his plate to regard his apprehensive-looking brother, a piece of hot bacon dangling from his fingers. Mouth too full to negotiate a sentence, he waved his greeting, before regretting his sudden action and falling to carefully checking his outfit for grease splatters.

  Alex shook her head and returned her subtle scrutiny to Julian as he made his way to the sideboard and started to tentatively fill a plate. "What is wrong?" she finally asked after Julian had dropped a hard-boiled egg on the floor, nearly tipped his plate off his hand, and spilled his chocolate onto the buffet.

  Julian opened his mouth and nearly toppled his plate yet again before he decided to make his way to the table with his full focus before he replied. "I...well," he stammered out, obviously anxious.

  "Sit," Alex ordered, causing him to plunk unceremoniously into his chair. The hand he placed on the table surface to catch himself nearly overbalanced his chocolate yet again. "Well?" she asked. "Now that the food has made it to the table without mishap, what is it that so ails you?"

  Julian glanced nervously at Matthew, then back at Alex, before dropping his gaze to his plate, that was, if it was possible, even more laden than Matthew's. Alex didn't know whether to attribute the laden nature of his plate to his apparent nervousness or habit, or both.

  "I...I wanted to apologize for being such a trouble to you, Matt." Only Alex saw Matthew's shoulders hunch and his fingers grip a little tighter to his fork. "I really don’t like it when mother is so overbearing.” He turned to Alex then, his large green eyes pleading with her. “And I know that she treats you abominably, but it is only because she is jealous of how beautiful and smart you are, and because it makes her sad that you and Matthew are so close...” He trailed off as he realized that he was rambling. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

  "I appreciate your concern, brother, but I fear you have worried your head, as usual, over nothing. You know that mother can be a harpy." Julian made a strangled noise, but Matthew pressed on as if uninterrupted. "It was just her typical tricks that she was up to. You are entirely without blame, as usual."

  Julian turned to Alex, noting for the first time the faint shadows beneath her beautiful blue eyes and the slight strain that showed in her taut features. Had he caused her to look so peaked? He prayed not.

  “You must know that I would not blame you for the actions of your mother,” Alex assured him fondly, bestowing a generous smile on him. “Your presence is always welcome to me.”

  Julian's face cleared like a sunny day during a London winter, and he fell voraciously to his plate. Matthew watched for a moment with a disgusted look that was still a trifle fond before returning to other matters. “Alex, I must have a talk with you.”

  Alex glanced up sharply at her brother before she could stop herself. She quickly regretted the impulsive action when her brother’s eyes narrowed in speculation. “Of course, Matthew.”

  “I shall be in my study working on the books for most of the day. Would you mind stopping by sometime this afternoon?”

  Alex nodded a trifle stiffly. “Of course not.”

  Matthew nodded in reply, then allowed himself to smile fondly at the sister that he loved above all others. Alex responded to the softness in her brother’s gaze and returned the smile with heartfelt gratitude. Matthew always knew how to make her feel like the world was right.

  They spent the rest of breakfast in companionable silence, Matthew reading the paper and giving the sections that he had finished to Alex who passed them to Julian when she was finished. Finally, Matthew rose from the table.

  "I'm off to the study," Matthew told the room at large. He shot Alex a quick glance, then exited the room whistling.

  "So," Alex began watching her half-brother that was so unlike either herself or Matthew. "How has life seen fit to treat you lately?"

  When Julian glanced up quickly his eyes were bright with some recalled happiness. "Oh quite famously, actually. We are planning my Tour. I cannot wait to see the Coliseum.”

  "What?" Alex pressed when he fell silent yet again. "No Ladylove to exclaim over? Last I saw you there was a little blond slip of a thing, and then, later it was a raven-haired girl. And that's not to mention those I am not informed of."

  Julian blushed lightly, but quickly gathered himself back up. "Now that we're here in London, mother intends to stay until I've experienced the Season at an age to enjoy it more fully. She hopes I'll pick m'self a wife while we're here, but, I'm not so sure about that."

  Alex nodded abstractedly, her mind turning to Forrest for the hundredth time. What was she to do? Finally, she gave up trying to prolong the time she spent in the breakfast room and bid Julian a good morning before slipping out of the breakfast room and setting her course for Matthew's study. She was half way to the room, when she caught the lilt of a familiar Irish melody floating lazily on the air. She followed the clear, proud notes to the music room, then pushed open the door silently.

  Matthew sat in profile on a window seat. His long fingers danced over the keys of a sparkling silver and gold flute, producing the lovely music that Alex had heard in the corridor. He glanced toward her, and his eyes smiled even as he continued to play the entrancing, ancient melody without full attention. Alex smiled as she thought of the lovely serenade the passers-by were receiving out the open window in front of him.

  "Sorry," Matthew said quietly when he had played the song out until the end. He continued to stare out at the overcast day as his fingers fiddled with the padded keys of the instrument. "I always get this terrible urge to play when my mother's in the house. Her room is directly above this one. I'm sure she has cotton stuffed in her ears. She's probably wandering about damning me to perdition or somewhere worse if she's that inventive. To be frank, I don't give a good damn." He played an arpeggio scale double time, as if to prove his point, then stood and set about cleaning his flute. He realized that he was rubbing the flute's delicate surface a little too vehemently, and forced his old anger slightly into the back of his conscious. "At least father was proud of me."

  Alex, who had taken Matthew's previous spot on the window seat, heard the odd note to his voice, and glanced at him, noting the softening of his expression that she had almost never seen him show. "I wish he was still here,” he said softly.

  Alex smiled wistfully. “As do I. Tell me again what he looked like," Alex said, feeling like a little girl. After Geoffrey had died, Matthew and Alex had made a sort of game out of describing their father to one another. When they missed him, all they had to do was call up their memories of him that they shared and he was not so far away for a while.

  Matthew's face became distant as he came to lean against the wall next to her and stare out the window with her. "He had hair blacker than black," he said as a shiny red phaeton clattered past in the street below. "It was almost blue it was so black. It was curly too, but not as curly as mother's. His eyes were like mine. I'm told by reliable sources that
, with the exception of my hair color, I'm his image to the letter." Matthew fell silent for a moment, watching two laughing young men leap into a black curricle across the street and spring their horses with dangerous speed. "He was a good man. Mother made his life miserable," he said softly.

  Alex too watched the street, wishing that she had known her own mother. “I wonder what his life would have been like if my mother had not died,” she murmured.

  "Father actually mentioned her to me once, possibly by accident, but I found out from other sources that she was a beauty, impoverished or not.”

  Alex nodded. "I wish that I had more of her than just her portrait hanging in the gallery.”

  “She must have been just as beautiful and generous as you are,” he told his sister warmly, and he meant the compliment. Even Miss Dartmoor was not as flawlessly lovely as Alex was.

  Alex laughed. “Be careful Matthew dear, lest I get a swelled head.” She winked at her brother and he grinned at her. She watched him take apart his flute and place it back in its case. Suddenly, Matthew’s fingers stilled on the clasps of the case. Alex followed his gaze and saw him looking at the portrait of his father holding the reins of a large and stately black horse. The horse’s exquisite ears were pricked as he stared into the distance and Geoffrey Hargreve wore a gentle, indulgent smile as he looked up at the horse. Despite the size of the stallion, one was certain that Geoffrey was masterfully in control of the animal.

  “I have always wondered why Avery would have thrown him off, then trampled him,” Matthew said musingly, a stark note of frustration in his voice. “True, the horse had a mean streak, but never toward my father. They were like one. Like Apollo and myself." Matthew thought of the big black stallion who was the father of his own horse, and shook his head. “Ah well, it's too late now for such thoughts. They lead nowhere."

  Alex nodded in agreement. “I just wish that he was here.”

  “Who do you wish was here?” The voice was Forrest’s, and it was coming from the hall.

  Matthew saw naked apprehension flash in Alex’s eyes before he turned toward the door. “My father,” he replied.

  “Since I am here, I was hoping that it was me you were talking about,” Forrest said just as he stepped over the threshold. Matthew watched with interest as Forrest’s blue eyes widened upon catching sight of Alex in the window seat. The smile that had been on his face when he entered the room dissolved entirely and was replaced by a distant, wary mask that nevertheless made obvious his discomfort.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, old chap,” Matthew said. “Need something in particular?”

  Forrest shook his head stiffly. “I heard you playing as I finished my breakfast, so I decided to come and listen. However, it appears that the concert is over.” His haunted gaze found Alex again. “Hello, Alex.”

  “Hello, Forrest,” she answered, annoyed at the slight tremor in her voice that betrayed her tension. She noted with some relief that Forrest looked as though he had not slept well either. Matthew felt the atmosphere slowly growing oppressive with tension, and rose to his feet. “I did promise myself to work on the books today,” he announced to them both. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”

  Alex watched her brother rise and make his way to the door, feeling panic constricting her throat. She glanced at Forrest in near terror, then back to her brother before making her decision. She jumped abruptly to her feet. “Wait Matthew!” She cried with enough vehemence to make both men start. “I should come with you and help go over last month’s household accounts. I never did get them straightened out to satisfaction.”

  Matthew eyed his sister over his shoulder for a long moment that seemed to last for a year at least to Alex’s taut nerves before nodding slowly. “All right. I certainly won’t turn down company.” Alex nearly sagged with relief. She hurried past Forrest on her way to the door so that she would not have to meet his inquiring gaze. She knew that she should talk to him, but, God help her, she had no idea what she would say to him. She was not even sure yet how she felt about the events of last night. Until she had sorted that out, she had no intentions of approaching Forrest. It was cowardly, but she knew not what else she could do about it.

  Matthew did not speak as they walked down the hall to the study. It was not until he had poured them both a glass of claret and settled himself behind his desk that he broke the silence between them.

  “You look tired,” he observed placidly, drawing a heavy, leather-bound ledger toward him and flipping to the page that required his attention. “Are you sure that you want to go over that account now?”

  “I am not all that tired,” she answered him in clipped tones, snatching a smaller ledger book from the pile on the corner of the desk. “Besides, it should have been done a month ago. It is really unforgivable for me to have neglected my duties so grievously.”

  Matthew regarded her surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as he scanned the narrow columns of numbers in front of him. “Then there is nothing bothering you that you would like to discuss with me?”

  She hesitated for so long that Matthew was not sure that she was going to answer him at all. “To be honest, I am not at all sure just what is bothering me.”

  Matthew raised his eyes to meet hers. He gave a moment’s thought to staying out of quarrels that were not his own before he answered her. “Would I be wrong if I guessed that this has something to do with Forrest?”

  Her eyes fluttered closed. “Is it really that obvious?” Matthew decided not to reply to that. Finally, she opened her eyes and said, “I don’t know what to do, Matthew.”

  Matthew, who had never heard his sister speak those words, faltered a bit. Could it be worse than he had originally thought? “How about explaining the situation to me to start with?” he suggested gently.

  Alex sighed, and rubbed her temples as if she had a headache. “I am not really sure when this all started,” she began, her voice reaching him flatly and without life. “All I know is that things cannot ever be the same from now on.”

  Matthew cocked a brow at her words, his golden eyes narrowed in slight skepticism. “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “I mean that I think I have done the very thing I swore never to do,” she replied. As she spoke, she raised her clear blue gaze to meet his in a stare so intense it made him uncomfortable.

  Matthew tried not be exasperated with her. “And that is?” he prodded.

  Again she hesitated, but Matthew saw none of the lack of resolve that she had shown earlier in her countenance. “Matthew, I have fallen in love,” she said in a tone that denoted wonder.

  Her words simply verified Matthew’s own assumption, but they were enough of a shock to make his insides roll into a knot. He realized suddenly that somehow he had never accepted the simple fact that Alex was not his to keep. Struggling with the cold lump in his stomach that was fast spreading to the rest of his body, he managed to ask, “Are you sure?”

  She nodded painfully as her eyes filled with tears that turned the centers to a fathomless blue that shimmered softly in the wan light. “I have never been so sure of a thing in my whole life,” she nearly whispered.

  Matthew nodded, and transferred his gaze to his hands. “With Forrest?” he managed.

  The tears trembling in her eyes finally spilled over as she ducked her head. “Yes.”

  “And what is wrong with that?” he asked her, ignoring the part of him that wished her always to remain his dear sister and nothing else.

  She sniffed, and wiped the back of her hand across her cheek. “You saw how he acted in the music room. It’s obvious that he has realized that I love him and the fact makes him uncomfortable.” She sniffed again, then drew her shoulders back resolutely. “I vowed never to fall in love because I wanted to be the master of my own life in every way. It is so very tempting to have one’s decisions made for one, to never have to worry about the details of one’s life because someone else is pulling all the strings. I have vowed
never to become a puppet. I shall not do so now.” Then, more faintly, “No matter what my feelings.”

  “But,” Matthew countered, “marriage need not be equivalent to the loss of one’s freedom, Alex.”

  Her expression told him that she thought otherwise. “That is neither here nor there since Forrest does not return my affection.” She smoothed the page of the ledger and fell to scanning the columns of numbers written there. Matthew sighed, watching her for a moment. He did not agree with her assessment of the situation at all. He could not be certain of the degree of his friend’s affection for Alex, but he presumed that if it could cause his cool, analytical friend obvious discomfit, it ran deep indeed. If he had to hazard a guess, it would be that Forrest felt at a disadvantage in the situation. Although titled, he held the lowest rank of Matthew’s close circle of friends. He had a good income, but certainly nothing that held a candle to Matthew’s fortune. He probably assumed that Alex would never settle for life on a much reduced scale from what she was accustomed to. To further complicate matters, he knew that Alex dearly loved her independence. Matthew had a sneaking suspicion that one of the things that Forrest loved most about Alex was her exultant joy in her personal freedom.

  Matthew returned to the books, half of his mind still worrying away at the problem between his sister and his close friend. He had made no notable progress an hour later with regard to the books, or the trouble between Alex and Forrest. Stretching luxuriously, he placed his hands on the top of his desk and levered himself to his feet.

  “I’m going to go for a ride,” he told Alex. “I cannot think well enough to work on these blasted books anymore.”

  “I’ll take care of them,” Alex replied promptly, her head remaining bent over the household accounts. “I am nearly done here.”

  Matthew rounded the desk and halted, his expression fond and fatherly as he looked down at his sister. She sensed his scrutiny and raised her eyes, then colored a bit at the expression on his face. Coward, that look clearly said, and she knew that it was the truth, but she simply did not have the fortitude yet to deal with the rest of the occupants of the house.