Though his nod acknowledged her, his gaze was for Alistair. “Most unique, Lord Alistair. Most unique.”
He smiled then at her. “Most lovely, my dear. Quite lovely, but I understand you have more in that mind than feathers.”
“Of a certain,” Alistair bragged. “Knows about crop rotation, and she reads more than Mrs. Radcliff.”
His teasing grin widened. “In truth, I brought her to get the bronze of a town season, but she has made it clear she is not the least interested in making an advantageous match.”
“Is this possible?” She felt like an insect under Heywood’s quizzing glass.
“I’ve already turned down Lord Derik.” Winter fought her rapidly rising temper.
Over the soft music, Winter heard Lord Heywood’s mutter, “Alistair. A most unique entry indeed. No doubt about it, you have won the wager.”
Winter’s questioning glance made Alistair grimace. Placing a hand firmly on Winter’s waist, he swept her into the dance and said, “I’ll explain later. Promise.”
With reluctance Winter nodded. As the music swelled inside her, her eyes locked with Alistair’s. Suddenly no one existed but the two of them.
As the music ended, Alistair smiled into Winter’s slightly dazed eyes. “I believe others are staring. Shall we?” Offering his arm, he led Winter to the side.
Alistair found a vacant chair for her, and he let her sit while he stood next to her. Nearby, the duchess chatted with her friends.
Winter smiled up at her guardian only to follow his gaze to the luscious redhead determinedly making her way across the room toward them. Her smile faded as the excitement of the evening drained away.
Lady Bridget placed a possessive arm on Alistair’s sleeve. “Come, Alistair.”
Winter watched him hesitate and thought he was going to refuse her. Instead, he glanced over toward his aunt. “Winter, let me take you to Aunt Helen.”
“I am fine right here, Lord Alistair,” she told him, her tone firm. “She knows I am here.”
He hesitated. “Not quite the thing.”
“Oh, just go,” she told him. But when he led Lady Bridget onto the floor, the room seemed bereft of warmth.
A boisterous voice interrupted her dismal thoughts. “Lady Renton, is it not? Been deserted by your guardian already?”
Winter glanced up into the sanguine face of a blond gentleman whose exquisitely tailored jacket fit without a wrinkle over his large shoulders. Bowing over her hand, he introduced himself. “Since no one is about to do the honors, I’ll do them myself. Charles Ainsworth, Lord Hollingsworth, at your service.” He glanced toward Alistair and his partner. “Has he told you they have an understanding?”
“I...” Winter glanced over toward the duchess for direction, but she was deep in conversation. Winter wished she had let Alistair take her to his aunt. She stared into the overbright eyes of the man facing her. “I know you.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re that rakeshame who propositioned my friend Miss Wilke.”
He waved that aside. “Merely a misunderstanding,” he told her. “Now you are ravishing, Lady Renton. Between us there must be no misunderstanding.”
Winter leaned away from impossible flattery. “I think you should wait until we are properly introduced.”
“Where did Lord Alistair find a lovely chit like yourself?”
“He is my guardian,” she told him.
“You are not yet promised, I take it.”
Winter laughed. “No, despite Lord Derik, no.”
Hollingsworth started. “Anthony? You know him well?” His question was too casual, too emotionless.
“Our land marches side by side. Do you know him?”
Hollingsworth attempted a languid pose. “Slight acquaintances. But, if he does not hold your heart, mayhap there is a chance for me.”
Winter’s eyes flashed. “You probably say such nonsense to every girl you meet.”
“Hardly.” His tone soothed. “I am not interested in some simpering miss, but in a bright, intelligent woman like yourself.”
She could not help a flush of pleasure at feeling desirable, then recalled with whom she spoke. “Lord Hollingsworth.”
“Will you do me the honor?” He indicated the dance floor.
“I think not, Lord Hollingsworth.”
“Charles.”
She withdrew uneasily from his familiar manner. Her smile of relief seemed to dazzle Alistair as he made his way back to her. Winter noted it had not been easy to disentangle himself from Bridget’s possessiveness, but he managed. Winter guessed he hurried to rescue her from the bounder hovering over her.
Lord Hollingsworth straightened, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from his jacket. “Lord Alistair. I hear you’ve introduced quite a prize.”
“I see you have introduced yourself.” He impaled Hollingsworth with his penetrating gaze. “Lady Renton is under my protection, Hollingsworth. I trust you will remember that.”
That gentleman bowed in an insolent manner. With an intimate wink at Winter he said, “Dearest Winter, I shall leave you to your oh-so-proper guardian.”
“Why did you speak with him?” Alistair snapped. “Or don’t you remember he is the bounder who made such an indelicate proposal to Miss Wilke?”
Winter met her guardian’s carefully controlled rage with flashing eyes. “I remember quite well, thank you, but I had little choice. He refused to wait for a formal introduction and was outrageously flattering. I did nothing wrong, so why are you so angry with me?”
Winter could tell Alistair controlled his anger with some difficulty. “I am not angry with you, but I do forbid you to have any more to do with that bounder.”
“Why? You can’t be jealous.” Winter wasn’t sure why she persisted. Mayhap her own jealousy was showing? Surely not!
“Of course not.” Alistair spoke with such vehemence Winter felt her cheeks pale. The evening lost its luster, and she was relieved when they returned to Alistair House. In truth, she never wished to go anywhere with her odious guardian again.
Winter headed for the stairs, her head aching almost as much as her heart, when Alistair stopped her. “I wish to speak with you, now.”
The duchess had already gone up to her room, and Winter had every intention of doing the same. Throwing back her head, Winter grasped the banister and continued on up the stairs. She felt Alistair’s eyes boring into her back, but refused to turn. Had she looked back she would have been surprised at the expression on his face.
* * *
Alistair turned at a knock on the door. James opened it to admit the secretary’s clerk, Viscount Melton, a young peer who introduced himself. Concern etched his face. “There you are, m’lord. His lordship is calling a meeting now. It’s happened. The Treaty of Amiens is all but broken, and Boney is starting to blockade his borders. Our people can’t get out.”
Throwing on his coat, Alistair hurried after the young man.
* * *
Upstairs, Winter’s fury spilled out as Mary helped her out of her gown. “How can anyone like that man!”
“What did you do to incur his rage?” Mary spoke with deliberate calm. “His lordship isn’t usually unreasonable.”
“Absolutely nothing. Lord Hollingsworth introduced himself when I was sitting alone, waiting for the return of my protective guardian who danced in Lady Bridget’s oh-so-willing arms. But then, they have an ‘understanding’ or so Hollingsworth claims.
“When Alistair saw Hollingsworth, he dismissed the man out of hand, not that I cared, mind you. I thought the man overfamiliar by half. Worse, he turned on me, as though I had encouraged Hollingsworth. He is the most—” she thought of Derik and amended “—almost the most odious man I have ever met.”
“By morning mayhap things will not seem so bad, m’lady.” Mary s
tarted to shut the door, then returned. “What Hollingsworth said about Lord Alistair and Lady Bridget...ask Lord Alistair. You might well receive a different point of view.”
Unable to sleep, Winter got up, slipped on a warm robe, opened the door to her sitting room and sat down on the couch by the hearth still bright with flames. “Lord, every time I start lov—liking him, he...oh, he infuriates me.” She blinked back tears. “I didn’t do anything wrong, Lord. Please help him see that.”
She knew the Lord would have her forgive him.
Winter closed her eyes as she wrestled with her anger. “All right. I’ll forgive him, even if he doesn’t deserve it.”
She knew she didn’t deserve God’s forgiveness any more than Justin did.
Winter hung her head. “I forgive him, Jesus. Lord, forgive me, too. I don’t understand why I get so angry with Justin.” She paused, wondering what role the beautiful Lady Bridget really did play in his life. If there was an understanding...
For some time she considered their stormy relationship, the security she felt in his arms, the joy she felt inside when he smiled at her, touched her. She finally faced the truth of the matter as honestly as she knew how and the truth shocked her.
“Oh, no, Lord. It can’t be!” she said with groan. For years she had guarded her heart, until one man, one infuriating man, penetrated her defenses. And he didn’t even like her overmuch.
What was she going to do about her heart?
* * *
Much later, Alistair waited for Mary in the library. “Good, you’re here. Did Terrance tell you?” Alistair rubbed his tired face. “I trust you got my ward safely tucked into bed.”
“She’s pretty angry with you.” Mary pulled up a chair and sat down.
“I know. I have women practically fall at my feet, but not Winter. No matter what I do or say, it is the wrong thing.” He shook his head. “Enough of that. We have to move quickly, Mary. His lordship said some of our most secret plans have found their way into Boney’s hands. Now that we’re once more gearing up for war, we have to stop that leak. Further, we have to get our people out before defense gets so tight in France we can’t get through to our citizens. If we don’t, who knows what will happen to them.”
“Has there been a leak there, as well?”
“We’re not sure, but we have to make the attempt. What about your cousin?”
“He’s a gambler, but I doubt he is willing to risk his estate here for a promise of his mother’s estates in France. I’ve never particularly cared for my cousin, as you know, but my guess is he’ll try to hold on to both.”
“Did Winter tell you about Hollingsworth?”
“Yes, she did. She doesn’t understand why you are angry with her over the matter.”
Alistair sighed and the chair creaked as he leaned back. “I’m not. But she is so innocent and so lovely. I have some explaining to do.”
“If you don’t want her taken in by the man, I suggest you do so as soon as possible.”
She paused. “There’s something else. Hollingsworth told her you and Bridget have an understanding.”
Alistair groaned.
* * *
“Winter?” Alistair whispered. “Winter. There you are.” He entered her sitting room on the chance she had waited up for him. From the jerk of her head and her yawn, she must have fallen asleep waiting.
Carefully he set the bedchamber candle on the stand and sat down beside her on the sofa. “Mary said you might not sleep well because of our wrangle tonight.”
A distant clock struck two. “Why did you wait so long?” she asked.
Alistair hesitated. “I had to go out for a while.”
“To see Lady Bridget?”
“No. In the not too distant future, we will be at war with France once more.” Winter shivered. “You’re safe here in London,” he added.
“Is that why you insisted I come?” Winter said, “Or was it to win some filthy wager?” He sensed her hurt. “What was it, who could present the biggest freak?”
Alistair grabbed her shoulders. “Of course not. It was to present someone of beauty and intelligence. Someone not out for a man with the deepest pockets and most elevated title. But it was more than that, Winter. I wanted to give you a season, wanted you to experience more than the day-to-day drudgery of managing your estate.
“I care about you, Winter. You are so different, alive, at peace with yourself. I envy that peace.” After a pause, he chuckled. “Quite the fighter, like a little tiger.”
“You were so angry tonight. I really did not like Lord Hollingsworth.”
“I know. I was angry at the situation, not you.”
“What did you want to see me about?” Winter lifted her face, her eyes expressive in the dim light.
“To warn you. He is not to be trusted, and, he is already spoken for.” At her gasp he continued, “I don’t want him to add you to his list of conquests.”
“I am no fool, Justin. Why would he even look at me twice?”
Alistair smiled down at her, his heart rate quickening at her mobile mouth. “You are so lovely.” His voice grew husky. “He hates me. I managed to warn away one of his potential victims, as did you. I suspect he has little love for either of us. There are other reasons as well, but we won’t go into them.”
“If he is a danger, why not let me return home? Surely I’d be safe there. I have been presented, and I have been to Almack’s.”
Putting his arms about her, Alistair held her close, felt her melt against him. “This is why, my Winter. I care. I care very much about you.”
A long moment later, she pushed him away. “Justin, what about Lady Bridget. Hollingsworth said...”
He pulled back. “Winter,” he said with a deep groan. “I crave your pardon. I thought only to settle things between us.”
Hurriedly he got to his feet. Looking down at her, Alistair could not bear the lost look in Winter’s eyes. “Winter!”
“Go,” she managed to say, hugging her arms to her chest. “Go to Bridget.”
“You mistake the situation, Winter. That was Hollingsworth telling a whisker. A big one.”
“You and Bridget?”
“Truth? I have never encouraged her interest.”
He could see she did not know how to respond. He grinned and touched her cheek. “Sleep with that thought, my dear.” Picking up his chamber candle, Alistair left the room.
On his way to his own chamber he was struck with guilt. Winter was under his protection! He had no business revealing his feelings as he had. That hug, how she’d melted against him... It was almost too much to be borne. He was her guardian. He needed to remember that.
Chapter 8
The next morning, Winter decided to have breakfast in the informal dining hall only to find Alistair already filling his plate at the sideboard. After his exit the night before, Winter did not know how to face her guardian.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” A smile crinkled the corners of Alistair’s mouth.
Blushing, she stammered, “Well enough.”
From his light, impersonal conversation, the close hug of the night before might never have happened. Did his words mean so little then? Was her guardian, in truth, the rake she believed from the first?
* * *
When Winter joined him at the breakfast table Alistair felt awkward, not knowing how to respond to her. The confused hurt in her eyes when he left rather abruptly the night before cut him deeply. He had to take care how he treated her. It was almost enough to drive him to his knees. His lips twisted. Would God answer the kind of questions his heart asked? His relationship with his ward was something he wasn’t ready to explore too deeply.
Alistair hurried away to visit the secretary, his mind a whirl of conflicting feelings and e
motions. He did know close proximity to Winter posed a dangerous threat to his peace of mind. He was unable to forget her soft body melting into his embrace.
“Alistair.” The secretary ran a hand through his thinning hair. “We have word of several of our operatives hiding in Calais.”
“I’ll see to it.” Alistair cleared his throat. “Does anyone else know?”
“We’ve tried to keep it quiet, but, as you well know, there is a leak in this office, and we have yet to discover it. I’m sorry. I know this puts your people at risk.”
“I’ll alert the captain of my yacht. On the other hand, mayhap I’ll attend to the matter myself.”
“No need to put yourself in danger like that.” The secretary surveyed the younger man as though sensing something amiss.
“I am going.”
He shook the hand held out to him. “God go with you, Alistair.”
“Yes. God,” Alistair responded. Seemed at every turn he was reminded that faith mattered. Maybe it was time he considered the state of his faith. He grimaced as he considered how God viewed his lifestyle. Not so bad now that Winter had joined his household. Still and all, her deep faith made him consider the faith he once held.
* * *
For the next few days Alistair was absent without warning or explanation. In her room, Winter bowed her head. “Lord, I am so confused and angry. I want to do that which is right before You, but when Justin touches me I melt. Why did he hold me? Why did he go away?”
The next couple of days she chastised herself for her sense of desertion. She tried to hide her feelings from the too-discerning duchess, but was only partially successful. As though fearing Winter was going into decline over the unexplained absence of her nephew, the duchess tried to keep her occupied with shopping and receptions.
Winter never realized how full a day could be. At night, she blessed the duchess for the hectic schedule because her exhaustion made her fall asleep as soon as she snuggled beneath the covers.
Two verses from Proverbs 3 rang in her mind. Though she learned them many years earlier, they took on new meaning as she repeated them: Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.
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