by CJ Archer
Oh God. So much blood. Matted in Cottesloe's hair, blooming beneath his lifeless body, trickling in little streams between the flagstones. And all over Alex's coat, breeches, gloves, skin, everywhere.
He wrenched away from the image of his friend, the one he rarely saw outside his nightmares. The sharp movement tore a splinter of pain from his ever-present headache and a wave of nausea engulfed his insides. He sucked in air between his teeth and clenched down against the onslaught. He caught both Louisa and Miss Appleby watching him, concern etched into their brows.
"Are you all right?" Miss Appleby asked. She was perched on the edge of the sofa and he knew she would be at his side in an instant if he answered in the negative.
"It seems we both have slight headaches." He attempted to smile but if Miss Appleby's stony silence was any indication, he failed miserably. "An emphasis on the slight."
Louisa gasped and moved forward on the sofa too, but he had the distinct impression that she would pounce if he so much as indicated he needed help. The two of them were like bookends with Philly the sole volume in between. Except they weren't a matching pair. Where Louisa was all exotic flavors and polished surfaces wrapped in the latest fashions, Miss Appleby was the more comely of the two with her soft brown eyes, creamy skin and a mouth made for laughing...and kissing.
There really was no comparing the two, he realized with startling clarity. Once you saw past the packaging, Miss Appleby was by far the superior woman in looks and worth. And to think he'd treated her so abominably only hours earlier when she'd simply been doing her job. He might not like or agree with what she'd said, and he still didn't, but he shouldn't have lost his temper. She didn't deserve to put up with his dark moods. Moods brought on by his own actions in Berne. He couldn't even blame Louisa for them. She might have been the trigger but he was the one who'd plunged the knife.
Miss Appleby cocked her head to the side and he realized he'd been staring at her too long. He looked at Louisa instead. A grave mistake. She smiled serenely. It had taken him a long time to realize that behind her sweet smile was a quick mind thinking anything but sweet thoughts.
"Do your injuries still bother you?" Louisa said.
"Sometimes. Like now." He gave her a brief bow. "My apologies, Lady Twickenham, but I must retire for a while."
"Surely you can stay a little longer. We'll be much the poorer for the loss of your company."
"I sincerely doubt that. You'll have more entertaining things to talk about without me listening."
"Oh, do let the poor man go, Louisa," Lady Crighton said irritably. "There is nothing more depressing than a gentleman forced to endure the chatter of women for more than five minutes. I find most men form headaches under such circumstances, don't you, Lady Weatherby?"
If he hadn't been watching Louisa he wouldn't have seen her flinch as if she'd been stung on the nose. Her smile, however, didn't waver.
"No, Lady Crighton," Aunt Harry said with more stiffness than usual, "I've never found that to be the case."
It was Lady Crighton's turn to flinch. Louisa's smile broadened ever so slightly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miss Appleby catch her lower lip between her teeth as she studied her hands clasped in her lap.
"You must take some of Miss Appleby's headache tonic," Aunt Harry said to him. She appeared completely oblivious to the reactions her observation had elicited, something he knew she was not. "We're dining at the Pinkertons tonight and I expect you to be charming."
By that she meant charming toward the three unwed Pinkerton girls, all pleasant but entirely interchangeable. He could never remember which was which.
He was about to refuse when Philly chimed in. "Oh yes, do come. Lord Northbridge will be there too."
The shine in her eyes convinced him. Philly must not be allowed anywhere near North. "Of course, Aunt. I'm sure my head will be feeling much better by then."
"But it must be better before then, Alex," Philly said, half-rising. "You promised to take Miss Appleby and I riding this afternoon."
"Not riding," Miss Appleby said but his sister didn't appear to hear her. Philly had turned the entire force of her will upon him as if that could protect his skull from the hammer smashing the inside of his head to pieces.
"You can ride, Philly," he said, "while I drive Miss Appleby in the phaeton. A promise is a promise."
"There is only room for two in the phaeton," Aunt Harry said shooting one of her withering glares his way.
He rather thought seating for two was entirely the point—it would be quite useful in his continuing seduction of Miss Appleby. That strong composure of hers must break soon. He'd seen little cracks already. She often seemed upset after they kissed—and only after. Not during. No, she most certainly wasn't upset during their kisses. She was pliant and soft and kissed him back with fervor, making him forget that he was supposed to stop at mere kisses. Making him forget...everything.
Another day or two of that kind of pressure and her armor would soon fall away.
But of course Aunt Harry was right. In public, he must maintain appearances and keep his distance. "Then we'll walk," he said. "All of us."
Philly clicked her tongue and crossed her arms in a petulant pose. Before she could complain about how dull walking was, particularly at Aunt Harry's pace, he bid them all good afternoon. He turned to make his escape when he caught Louisa's wink.
He sighed. It would seem he was not yet rid of her. Indeed, he was plagued with the attentions of too many women of late. Only one, however, was proving to be surprisingly good company. He quite enjoyed sparring with Miss Appleby and he certainly enjoyed kissing her.
Unfortunately she was the one person he needed to rid himself of most of all.
***
Hyde Park was teeming with friends of either Redcliff or Lady Weatherby, making progress slow. It was a pleasantly sunny afternoon so Georgiana didn't mind the idleness although Phillippa was like a puppy on a leash, always darting ahead only to be reeled back in by her aunt or brother. The poor girl endured the tedious introductions with civility but it didn't take a particularly observant person to notice the shifting of her weight from foot to foot and the flicking of her fingernails. On more than one occasion, Lady Weatherby snatched Phillippa's hand to still it.
Georgiana's only complaint was that she invariably became the object of curiosity. Politeness ensured she be introduced, but being labeled Redcliff's nurse raised several eyebrows and elicited quite a few exclamations of "She's living with you!" from members of both sexes. The manner in which it was said varied between shock from the elderly females to snide innuendo from the younger males when Lady Weatherby wasn't listening. One even clapped Redcliff on the shoulder. He had the decency to wince but that could have been because the hand had landed close to his injury.
"Congratulations," Redcliff said after they left behind another party of acquaintances. They were out of earshot of Lady Weatherby who'd fallen back as she walked with a friend. Phillippa had trotted ahead to pick hyacinths. "You seem to have become the new talking point of the ton. I'll wager there'll be a pile of invitations when we return home."
"I don't think society ladies are inclined to invite nursemaids to their balls, no matter how much of an oddity they find me."
"Good."
"Why good?"
He watched Phillippa tuck a flower behind her ear. "Because then I would have to share you."
Redcliff is not the sort to share his lovers. So Sir Oswyn had said.
Georgiana swallowed. She was not, nor would she ever be, one of his lovers. She might be inexplicably drawn to him but she refused to make the same mistake twice—a patient's full recovery from opium addiction required her complete attention and her single-minded dedication. Distractions of the lustful kind were dangerous.
She'd learned that the hard way.
"I can assure you, Mr. Redcliff, that while I am employed to help you, you will not have to share me with anyone else."
"All mine?" He moved closer to avoid a
n oncoming curricle but once it was passed, he didn't move away again.
If Georgiana stretched her fingers she could touch his lean, muscular thigh without moving her arm an inch. Behind them, his aunt and her companion would have seen the maneuver but she refused to look around and check their reaction. She simply took a longer stride off to one side to put some distance between them. Kissing her in the privacy of his own home was one thing but she could not afford gossip. It was the sort of thing that could ruin a woman's career.
"All yours insofar as your health is my priority," she said quietly so no one else could hear. "Do not presume you can kiss me at will."
"What about kissing you at your will?"
She snorted softly. "You think all women find you so irresistible that we cannot control ourselves around you? Such vanity!"
"Not all women." A quick glance up at his face proved him to be almost smiling in that subtly seductive way of his. "But I believe you, my dear Miss Appleby, are interested in me." He lowered his head and whispered, "Don't deny it."
The skin at her throat and breasts prickled with heat. Her nipples tightened, tingled. "You know nothing of my mind or my heart, Mr. Redcliff." Good lord, how had the conversation steered in such a dangerous direction so quickly? "However there is one woman who welcomes your attentions if her flirtations with you this afternoon were any indication."
"You're not jealous of Louisa are you?" he said. The late afternoon sun glinted in his eyes, making it seem he was laughing at her. Perhaps he was.
"Of course not." She simply wanted to discover more about his past in Berne.
He doffed his hat to two giggling young ladies and their chaperone walking in the opposite direction and didn't speak until they were out of earshot. "Lady Twickenham's a viper. If she wishes to flirt with me then that is her affair but she'll not have any success. I learned in Berne that women like her should be avoided like a nasty disease. Her simpering, spineless husband is welcome to her. Poor chap. Between her and her mother, his nightmares must be worse than mine."
Georgiana's eyes grew wider and wider as he spoke. She'd expected him to retain his light-hearted manner and make a joke of Lady Twickenham's behavior, but his outburst was quite stunning. She was speechless.
"Now, may we leave the topic of Lady Twickenham behind us and discuss something more interesting? Like are you going to wait up for me tonight? I have to attend this infernal dinner at Pinkerton's but I don't expect to be too late."
"Do you want me to wait up for you?" Her pulse pounded beneath the surface of her skin, putting every nerve on edge as she waited for his answer. She should not want to hear it so much...but she did.
"Of course. You can try to convince me to hand over my opium, I will politely refuse, you may then lecture me and I'll proceed to kissing you to keep you quiet."
Several beats passed in which the gravel scrunching underfoot was almost as loud as her breathing. "And then what happens, Mr. Redcliff?" The rather daring question simply slipped out. There was no other explanation for why she put herself in such a precarious situation.
"That rather depends on you." Their arms brushed together, black superfine against gray wool. She didn't need to look up at him to know he was watching her with a burning intensity. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her face.
"I'll wait for you in the library," she said, moving a little away from him to where it was marginally safer. "But don't expect the evening to proceed as you've described."
"I look forward to it."
They rounded a bend and Georgiana put her hand up to her eyes to shield them from the sinking sun. "Where's Phillippa?"
Redcliff stopped suddenly, looked around, then broke into a run. Just as he reached a stand of trees bordering the wide path, Phillippa stepped out of the copse with Lord Northbridge, a big black horse between them.
"There you are, Redcliff!" Northbridge said, guiding the horse towards them. Phillippa, one hand stroking the animal's neck, followed along meekly as if she too were being led. "Been wondering where you got to."
"I was here all the time," Redcliff snapped. "Where have you been, Philly? And what are you doing with North?"
"Now, steady on," Northbridge said, rocking back on his heels. "I found Lady Phillippa over there." He waved in the general direction of the trees. "Said she'd got turned about and was a little lost so I offered to help her."
Redcliff scowled at North and looked as if he couldn't decide whether to punch his friend or thank him. Georgiana studied Phillippa. The girl kept her head lowered, her gaze firmly on her peach half-boots as she stroked the horse.
"Is that true, Philly?" Redcliff said.
She nodded but didn't look up.
"You shouldn't have wandered off." He blew out a heavy sigh. "From now on you walk with either myself or Aunt Harry, is that clear?"
She moved closer to the horse, her cheek almost touching its neck. "Yes, Alex."
Lady Weatherby and her companion strolled up and Lord Northbridge bowed to them. "What a pleasant family scene," he said. "Mind if I join you?"
"Yes," Redcliff snapped.
"Of course we don't mind, Lord Northbridge." Lady Weatherby patted the horse's nose and smiled. "What a lovely creature you have here. Phillippa adores horses."
Phillippa winced. Redcliff huffed out another breath and cast a warning shot at Northbridge who appeared not to notice. "If she were dressed in her riding habit I'd let her have a spell."
"Not a good idea," Redcliff said. "Apparently her sense of direction is terrible today."
Phillippa sniffed and stopped stroking the horse. "You never let me to do anything," she mumbled.
Lord Northbridge held out his arm to Georgiana. "Care to walk with me, Miss Appleby? I've been wanting to speak to you about Redcliff's sourness. Don't suppose you can cure him of the grumps, can you?"
She smiled and took his arm. "I'm not a magician, my lord."
He laughed and drew her ahead of the others, the horse walking sedately on his other side. Redcliff joined them but Phillippa stayed behind with the other women.
"What happened back there, North?" Redcliff said. "And I want an honest answer this time."
"I was performing your duties for you," Lord Northbridge said.
"What are you talking about?"
"I was approaching your party when I saw your sister head into those trees. Naturally I followed her when I saw you were deep in conversation with Miss Appleby and hadn't noticed." He smiled at Georgiana. "Of course, I don't blame you, Redcliff. She's quite a delight. It's no wonder you were distracted."
"We are not discussing Miss Appleby," Redcliff said.
"Especially while I'm here," she said. "My lord, are you saying that Phillippa deliberately wandered away?"
"Yes. I am also saying that my good friend Redcliff needs to keep a closer eye on his sister. Found Philly with a gentleman—."
"What!" Redcliff bellowed. He glanced at Phillippa over his shoulder but she was too busy fingering a ribbon on the sleeve of her pelisse to notice. "Who? Tell me so I can call him out."
"Steady," Northbridge said, his boyish features turned down in a frown. "No need for violence. I don't know who he was. Never seen him before. And they were only talking."
Redcliff swore. "I'll never let her out of the house again."
"I'm not sure that's a healthy attitude where your sister is concerned," Georgiana said. "Perhaps you should take better care of her and watch her more closely. This isn't the first time she's met a gentleman."
"What do you mean?" Redcliff exploded then winced. His reaction must have triggered his headache. She wanted to press her fingers against his temples to ease it but instead her hand tightened on Lord Northbridge's arm.
"Lady Twickenham mentioned seeing Phillippa and a man together on another occasion," she said. She didn't tell him it had occurred while Redcliff was supposed to have been watching her. He didn't need any extra reasons to lock the girl away.
"Twickenham?" Redclif
f swore again. "Now everyone will hear about it."
"She's not after you again, is she?" Northbridge said. The muscle beneath Georgiana's hand flexed. It was rather a large muscle, and she realized he was as strongly built as Redcliff. His angelic face and golden hair had fooled her into thinking him soft and slight. He was anything but. "Serves you right, Redcliff. You should have paid more attention to your obligations instead of thinking about unwrapping fruit."
"Fruit?" Georgiana said. Whatever was he talking about?
"Shut up, North," Redcliff said, "or I'll shut your mouth for you."
Northbridge turned to Georgiana, lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her glove. "I must leave you, dear nurse. Take care of my friend whether he wants you to or not." He bowed and she smiled. He really was rather delightful in his own unique way.
He swung gracefully up into the saddle and waved. Spotting a group of gentlemen on horseback he seemed to know, he trotted up to them and they were soon lost amongst the throng of carriages, riders and pedestrians promenading around Hyde Park.
"Sometimes I want to wipe that charm right off his face," Redcliff said.
"I like his charm," she said. "It's refreshing."
He regarded her with a frown. "After me you mean."
She shrugged. "You certainly aren't charming in my presence."
He fell into step beside her. "That's because I fail to see the need to charm you. You have to put up with me no matter how horrid I am." He gave her a wolfish grin. "Lucky me."
***
It was almost midnight when Redcliff returned home with his aunt and sister from their dinner at the Pinkertons. Georgiana sat in the library, a book in her lap and a lamp burning on the table beside her, and watched Worth take cloaks and hats from his master and mistresses out in the hall.
"You're still awake!" Phillippa said, seeing her through the open door. She came in and plopped down on the deep leather chair opposite Georgiana in a puff of pale pink crepe.
"I need to see to Mr. Redcliff before he goes to bed," Georgiana said. "Did you have an enjoyable evening?"
The girl removed one long, fine glove. "Oh yes, it was very pleasant. The Pinkerton girls are such fun, aren't they Alex?"