Alexandra heard the rapid footsteps of her mother as she came down the corridor. Alexandra had put off speaking with her parents long enough. As she turned to face the countess, Alexandra held her gloved hands clasped. The door swung open. She nodded cordially. "Mother."
The Countess of Monthrop threw up a heavily perfumed lace handkerchief. "Oh, thank heavens you're safe, my dear daughter. Thank heavens that beast hasn't harmed you!" She wrapped her arms around her daughter and brushed her lips near her cheek, taking care not to muss her own freshly painted lips.
"Where's Father?" Alexandra asked as her mother released her.
"Oh, he wanted to be here, but he had business to attend to. He asked me to make his apologies for him."
"Of course he did," Alexandra murmured. "His business has always been more important than us, hasn't it?"
"Now I'm just going to ignore that remark, Daughter. I know how difficult this has all been for you." She fluttered toward a brocade-upholstered red settee. "Oh, goodness, I see Mary Jane has brought refreshment." She sat down. "Will you sit with me, Mary Alexandra? We've your future to discuss."
Alexandra turned to face her mother. "I'd prefer to stand."
Her mother reached for a flaky fruit pastry. "Your father said he would see you this evening at supper. He said he'd send someone for your things."
"Mother, I'm not moving back in."
The countess bit into her pastry, leaving white sugar at the corners of her rouged mouth. "Not moving in. Well, of course you are—"
"Mother, I'm staying with Roland, at least for the present."
"An unmarried woman, staying unchaperoned in a man's house!"
"I'm still married. There's been no annulment . . . at least not yet," she added sadly.
"So the rumors are true. Word is all over London. Geoffry is not the legal heir to Dunnon?"
Alexandra turned away so that she wouldn't have to look her mother directly in the eye. She could feel that lump rising in her throat that came each time she thought of Hunter. "He is not."
"Pity. I should have known it was all too good to be true, you returning home with husband in tow. But this is not something we can't get you out of. Your father is already looking into it." She wiped her mouth with the corner of a linen napkin. "I'm shocked, of course. We're all shocked."
"Mother, just because Geoffry's no longer the Earl of Dunnon doesn't mean he's no longer my husband. We've been married months. I've slept with him!"
"Unfortunate, as I said, but nothing that cannot be righted with a few pounds and a few planted rumors." She lifted her hands heavenward. "Just thank holy Jesus you didn't find yourself with child." She made a clicking sound between her teeth. "That would have been unfortunate."
Alexandra walked to the wall where a large oil portrait of her paternal grandmother hung. She ran a finger across the bottom of the frame. She was pregnant. She was certain of it now. But she hadn't told anyone, not even Roland.
"Well . . ." Her mother clapped her hands together. "Now what of Jon? Do you think he'd be willing to marry you?"
Alexandra turned around, almost too shocked to speak. "Jon?"
"He was the Viscount Ashton we betrothed our daughter to. He is the Earl of Dunnon now that his father has passed away, God rest his soul. Who better to marry you? Surely he must feel some remorse at your having been deceived by his half brother."
"Hunter—oh blast it! Geoffry deceived no one! It was Dunnon!"
"Who deceived whom is irrelevant now. What matters is that the trouble be settled. Let me ask you again, will Jon marry you?"
"You ask me to throw myself at the feet of a man you didn't even want in your house a month's time ago?"
The countess fluttered her eyelashes. "I don't recall—"
"Mother!" Alexandra could feel the numbness she'd felt for the last two weeks beginning to wear off. Suddenly she was angry, angrier than she had ever been in her life. "You don't recall standing in this room and telling me Jon was not welcome at the masquerade ball?"
"I believe I've had quite enough of your insolence, Daughter. Are you telling me he wouldn't marry you? What if we gave a second dowry? This wouldn't be the first time a Lambert bought a title and Countess is well worth purchasing, I can tell you that."
Alexandra just stood there, staring at her mother. What kind of world was this she was living in that a mother could be more concerned about the title her daughter would marry into than the character of the man she would marry? How is that a mother who thought as she did of Jon a few weeks ago could now see him as a suitable bridegroom?
Alexandra turned away. Her mother started to speak again, but Alexandra didn't hear what she was saying.
This isn't where Hunter wants to be, she thought to herself. Well this isn't where I want to be either. England is no longer my homeland, these people are no longer my family. I want to go home, home to Maryland, home with Hunter if only he'll have me.
"Mary Alexandra! Where are you going? Mary Alexandra?"
Alexandra walked out of her mother's chamber and down the hall. She had to find Hunter. She had to tell him how she felt. If he didn't want her, then they would part. But she had to know. Once she knew where she stood, she would make a decision as to how she would raise their child. If she had to, she'd go to the colonies alone. She'd take her child and she'd make a life for him there where he would be free of this, of all this.
"Alexandra?"
Alexandra walked out of her mother's house, lifted her skirts, and stepped into Roland's waiting coach. "Dunnon Castle," she told the footman. "As quickly as you can get me there."
The coach rolled down the street. Alexandra never even bothered to look back at her mother.
A few hours later Alexandra arrived at Dunnon Castle. The ride out of London and into the country had seemed to stretch for days, but finally she was there.
She jumped out of the vehicle, not even taking the time to wait for the footman's aid. She took the front steps two at a time, her azure cloak flapping behind her. She marched straight into the house. "Where's the master?" she demanded of the first servant she came to. It was a woman polishing silver wall sconces in the hallway.
"Master Jon?"
"Geoffry. Where's Geoffry?"
"We haven't seen much of him, my lady. Not since Master Jon—"
"Jon. Where is he, then? Do you know where he is?" she stated impatiently.
The young woman pointed down the hallway. "The earl's library, ma'am. Said he wasn't to be disturbed," she called after Alexandra who had already walked away.
Alexandra marched into the library without even bothering to knock. Jon looked up from behind a pile of ledgers. He smiled. "Alex!"
"Where's Hunter?" she demanded.
He got a sly smile on his face. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come to your senses. Hunter, he's too damned wooden-headed, but you, I knew you'd come around."
"Where is he?" She pushed her dark hair back off her face. It had come loose from its pins to fall down her back in waves. "Just tell me."
"The gamekeeper's cottage. Apparently the man accidentally killed himself early this morning while hunting. Got drunk and fell on his musket, the sorry whoreson. Hunter went to his cottage to clean out the man's belongings. Said he'd go mad if he didn't get some physical exercise."
Alexandra turned and ran.
"Take a horse. You know where the cottage is?" Jon called after her.
"I'll find it!" she hollered back.
Ten minutes later she was riding through the woods on a grey gelding. At a gallop she rode down the path in the direction the stable boy had given her.
"Not far," he'd said. "Just down the road a piece. A shame what happened to poor Kells. Blew his face off, we hear. You'll find the cottage easy enough."
Sure enough, less than a mile into the woods, the path broke into a clearing. Nestled among the gigantic oak trees was a tiny cottage. A lone horse stood tied to a tree—Hunter's horse.
"Hunter?" Al
exandra leaped off the gelding. Her cloak caught on the saddle as she came down. She untied the ribbon to the basque of her silk cloak and left it hanging. "Hunter!" she shouted again. "Are you here? Come out, coward! Come out and face me!"
"Alex?" He appeared from around the back of the cottage. He was wearing leather breeches, a lawn shirt open to the waist and knee-high moccasins.
"Son of a stinking whore's cur!" she shouted as she hurled herself at him. "How dare you! How dare you!"
"Ouch! Damn! Stop!" He lifted his hands to fend off her blows. "Have you taken leave of your senses, woman?"
She shoved him so hard that he nearly toppled backward. "Just say it. Say you don't love me and I'll go!"
He ran one hand through his hair. He looked terrible. His cheeks were gaunt, his eyes bloodshot. "This is best. You'll see," he tried to tell her.
"Best for who? You never asked me what I wanted!"
"I—"
"Shut up! I'm the one doing the talking!" She pointed a finger at him. "You never asked me what I wanted—not once since we arrived in London. I know I told you this was where we belonged, but I was wrong."
"Alex—"
She pushed her hand into his chest. "I'm not done," she hollered. "Let me say it! You never asked me what I wanted, not in all these months. Why not? You knew I was unhappy but you never asked why."
"I thought—"
"I was unhappy because I hated it here and I didn't know how to tell you. I was unhappy because I was the one who insisted this was where we belonged, only I was wrong. I was unhappy because I wanted to go back to Maryland only I couldn't admit it, not to myself, not to you. I didn't want to ruin your life, Hunter. I wanted to be your wife, the woman you would need here at Dunnon, only I knew I couldn't be her. Maybe once, but not now. But I loved you too much. I didn't tell you because I knew you were having such a hard time with your father's affairs. I didn't want to add to your troubles." She took a deep breath. "There. I said it." She touched the copper wedding band she still wore on her finger. "Now just tell me you don't love me and I'll go. Just tell me."
"Alex . . ."
She hung her head. She couldn't bring herself to look up at him. She loved him so much. Why did it have to be like this?
"Alex, did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"
She looked up at him. He was smiling. He was holding his arms out to her.
"Oh Hunter," she cried as she flung herself into his arms. "Hunter, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything."
"Hush, hush," he murmured in her ear as he covered her tear-stained face with kisses. "I've been an ass. I'm the one who should be saying I'm sorry. Just tell me you'll go with me. Tell me we'll go home to Maryland together."
She was laughing; she was crying. "Yes, yes. Home, home where we can raise our child."
Hunter grabbed her arms and then lifted her chin with the tip of his finger. "What are you telling me, sweeting?"
She smiled, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. "What does it sound like I'm saying? You didn't think you could tumble with me all these months and not plant your seed, did you?"
It was Hunter's turn to laugh as he pulled her against him, kissing her soundly on the lips. "You certain you can travel?" he asked, his voice choked with emotion.
"If we go soon, yes."
"There's a ship leaving the end of the week."
She was smiling up at him. "Not soon enough."
"Ah, Alex, Alex, how could I have been so stupid? Will you forgive me? I wanted so badly to give you the life I took away from you when I left you that night at our betrothal party so many years ago. I wanted it so badly that I lost track of the reason."
"The reason?"
"To make you happy. To make up for what I did."
"Hunter." She lifted up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. It was a hard, demanding kiss. She had missed him so much. She had needed him for so long.
He slid his hand up to cup her breast as his tongue delved deep to taste her. "Alex," he crooned.
"Hunter." She ran her hand over his corded shoulders, remembering every curve of his muscular body. She pressed her hips to his. "Hunter, make love to me," she whispered between his kisses. "Please. I need you."
"Here?"
She brought her hand up to boldly caress the bulge in his tight breeches. "Yes, here," she whispered, her voice throaty with desire. "Now. I've had enough of Geoffry. I want Hunter. I want my wildman back."
He groaned as she caressed him. "You'll be the death of me," he muttered as he swept her into his arms.
"You can hope," she teased.
"Inside?" he asked, pressing his lips to the valley between her breasts.
"No. Here." She slipped her hand inside his shirt to caress his bare chest. "Here outside beneath the trees. Here where we can smell the wind."
He knelt, still holding her in his arms. She kissed him again and again, driven by a passion she'd never experienced before. She wanted no soft sweet lovemaking, not now. She wanted to possess and be possessed.
Hunter yanked at the laces of her stomacher, freeing her breasts from the confines of her bodice. He took her nipple into his mouth and nipped at it with his teeth.
She moaned, arching her back, running her hands through his sleek auburn hair. "Yes," she whispered. "That feels so good."
He lowered her to the ground—her urgency was contagious. She pulled at the leather laces that bound his breeches. Releasing his member, she stroked it, unabashed.
He lifted her skirts. Later would be time for wooing. Now the two wanted nothing but fulfillment. Their hunger had to be satiated after so many weeks of yearning.
Alexandra pulled up her skirts and raised her hips up to meet his groin. She could feel the heat of her lust for him pulsing through her veins. Her heart was pounding, her nostrils filled with the secret scent of desire.
"Now, Hunter," she begged.
"I don't want to hurt you."
She laughed, rolling her head in the dry leaves left behind by winter winds. "Give me release and I'll pain no longer."
Kissing her softly on the lips, he lifted his body over hers and took her with one stroke. She raised herself up, crying out in pleasure.
"Hunter," she whispered in his ear as her body rose and fell with his. "Hunter I love you. I'll love you always."
"Always," he managed as he moved faster. "Always we'll have each other."
Alexandra dug her nails into the flesh of his shoulders. Her entire being was alive with the sensation of pleasure, her heart filled to bursting with the confidence of their love.
One final stroke and both cried out in unison, finally fulfilled, finally satisfied. Panting, Hunter rolled off her into the new sweet-smelling grass of springtime. They were both laughing.
"You think we'd never done it before," he teased.
"You'd think. And us a married couple. Shocking!"
Suddenly both heard the sound of hoofbeats approaching. Alexandra sat up and began to pull at the ties of her bodice. Hunter leaped to his feet and yanked up his breeches. "You stay here," he said as he started around the corner of the cottage that shielded them from the main road. "I'll see who it is."
He disappeared around the corner and just as Alexandra was standing to brush the leaves off the back of her gown she heard Hunter call to her.
"Make yourself decent," he hollered. "But it's just Jon."
Jon was swinging out of the saddle as she came around the corner of the cottage and looped her arm through Hunter's. Her clothing and hair were such a mess that she knew Jon had to know what they'd been about. But she didn't care. All that mattered was that she and Hunter were going home to Maryland, together.
She looked to Jon, but then the smile fell from her face. There was something wrong. She could tell by the look on his face.
"What is it?" Hunter asked.
Jon was panting from the hard ride.
"You're not going to believe this," he exclaimed. "The h
igh sheriff's come for you."
Hunter frowned. "Come for me, for what pray tell? She's still my wife." He laughed. "I've still the right to lay her."
Jon wiped his lips with the back of his hand as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. "This is no jest, Hunter. I tell you they've come for you, the sheriff and soldiers. You're to be arrested."
Alexandra gripped Hunter's arm suddenly more afraid than she'd ever been in her life. "For what? Tell us!"
"The murder of Captain John Cain."
Chapter Twenty-nine
Alexandra could feel the weight of the world suddenly crashing down on her shoulders. Her hand went instinctively to her flat stomach where her child, their child, grew. "There must be a mistake," she said shakily. "The man was an animal. He raped and murdered women, he sold them to savages!"
"Yes, but John Cain was the lord chancellor's nephew, great-nephew, something."
"What difference does that make?" Alexandra was struggling to understand. Hunter arrested? Thrown into Newgate. They wouldn't!
"It makes a great deal of difference, my innocent one." Hunter brushed his lips across her forehead. He looked back to Jon. "So they wait for me?"
"Yes. I told them you'd be back shortly and that they were free to wait outside. I left through the servants' quarters and came as quickly as I could."
Alexandra hung to Hunter's arm. "You'll have to go and explain yourself. You'll have to tell why you did it. There'll be a trial. No one would convict you!" She was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince them.
Jon glanced at Alexandra. "You're missing the point here, Alex. It's doubtful there'll be a fair trial, if there's any trial at all."
Hunter pushed a lock of red hair back behind his ear. "Christ's bones, most likely I'll just be left in Newgate to rot. It would be nothing personal—politics."
Alexandra could feel the tears stinging her eyes, but she fought them. How could Hunter remain so calm? Moments ago they were talking about sailing to the colonies to begin a new life together and now he was contemplating a lifetime prison sentence or hanging. "What do we do?" She looked from Jon to Hunter. "We can't let them take you. I almost lost you once, Hunter." She set her jaw with determination. "I'll not lose you again."
His Wild Heart Page 31