****
The next morning, Alex rose early. She had promised herself to do the accounts and take inventory of the sheets and linen. She was serious when she'd told Jenny she planned to remove to Bath when Robert married Lady Felicia.
Alex drank a cup of chocolate, then went to the bookroom. Seated at her desk, she pored over the entries in the account ledger. The columns and numbers refused to balance. She jumped up and paced around the room. She was in no mood to do accounts. Her mind kept wandering.
Why hadn't she heard from Robert? The last letter she had received was dated early March. It was now the middle of July. She knew he was always in the thick of the battles, and there had been several engagements this past spring. Alex felt something terrible must be wrong.
Sitting once more at her desk, she opened the ledger. After she balanced her books, Alex resolved to write Lord Brumley at the Foreign Office. She had met his lordship at her Aunt Penwaithe's house several times during the Season. Surely, he would be able to obtain news of Robert.
She trimmed her pen, then started on the accounts again. A loud rapping on the front door caused her to make a smudge in one of her columns. Alex heard Bentley answer the urgent summons. A deep male voice spoke earnestly to her butler in the hall.
She glanced at the mantel clock. It was only seven-thirty. Who could be calling at such an hour?
Bentley came to the door. "Viscount Rochdale, Miss," he intoned.
Alexandra stood quickly and gripped the edge of the writing table. She stared unseeingly at the butler. Rochdale? What in the world? Her shoulders tightened as she felt a sudden apprehension. Rochdale could only be here for one reason. Dear God! He must have news of Robert.
"Show him in," she said, bracing herself for the worst.
When Rochdale strode into the bookroom, he looked windblown, as if he'd ridden hard. His eyes swept her from head to foot with an appraising glance. She met his look squarely.
"It's Robert, isn't it?" Alexandra asked, her voice trembling slightly. "He's not . . ." She couldn't finish the dreadful question, but swayed, feeling as if she might swoon.
Rochdale was before her in an instant, supporting her shoulders. "No!" he answered roughly. He let her go and stepped back. "He's alive. Garr Fleming brought him to me in London. Robert's been wounded."
"Alive. Thank God," Alexandra breathed in relief.
"There's more," Damien warned.
Alexandra sank down on the sofa. She looked anxiously at Rochdale, who held himself in a rigid stance. He was still so formal, so withdrawn. "More?" she asked blankly.
"Robert was wounded at Barrosa Ridge," he said. "His horse fell on him and crushed his right arm. The surgeons couldn't save it."
"No. Oh, no," she whispered. She wouldn't cry. She must be brave for Robert's sake.
Rochdale walked to the window and looked out. "Rob wanted me to break the news to you." He turned to face her. "Your brother is in an extremely vulnerable state. He has always been strong and active; he's having a difficult time with his loss."
Alexandra squeezed her hands tightly together, looking at him. She couldn't think clearly. She was immensely relieved Robert was alive. But to lose an arm! A heaviness weighed upon her heart and stomach. She forced herself to listen to Rochdale.
"The physician in London told me to watch Rob closely. He said he is suffering from depression and might try to do himself an injury. He might even contemplate suicide."
Alexandra rose swiftly to her feet. "I must go to him immediately!"
"Yes," he agreed, "that's why I've come. Robert needs careful nursing. He's extremely weak--from loss of blood and the long journey home. I have a carriage waiting to convey you to Willowmede."
"Pish!" Alexandra swept back a loose curl from her forehead. "I'll ride. Give me a few minutes to change into my habit and make the necessary arrangements with the servants. Aunt Haygood can follow as soon as possible."
"The carriage would be more comfortable, Miss Turlington," Rochdale said.
"It will be faster on horseback. I've been sick with worry for months. I want to see Robert as soon as possible." She hated how he continued to call her Miss Turlington, when once they'd been so close.
"As you wish," Rochdale said with a slight nod of his head.
Alexandra pulled the bell. The butler was on the alert and came instantly. "Bentley, Robert has been wounded. I must go to Willowmede at once. Have a groom fetch Cosmos from the stables. And tell Mrs. Crawford to serve Rochdale some coffee." She smiled gratefully at the viscount as Bentley went away to do her bidding. "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes." She was gone on the words.
****
When Alex entered her bedchamber, her maid was waiting. Maggie, learning the master of Willowmede was wounded, quickly helped her mistress into her black riding habit, then secured a smart black hat on Alexandra's head.
"Is my aunt awake yet?" she asked the maid, adjusting the hat more comfortably.
"Yes, Miss. She's having her tea in bed. It's lemon verbena this morning."
"I wonder what she's trying to cure today," murmured Alexandra. Aunt Haygood believed all things could be cured with the right mixture of herbs. If only that were true.
Alex grabbed her riding crop and gloves. Striding down the hall, she knocked and entered her aunt's bedchamber. Aunt Haygood, wrapped in a green silken robe adorned with giant cabbage roses, sat in bed sipping her tea.
She smiled on her niece. "Come in, my dear, come in. Where are you off to so early?"
"Rochdale has brought Robert home, Aunt. He's very ill. We haven't heard from him in so long because he was wounded in battle," Alex explained as she drew on her calf-skin gloves. "I'm leaving immediately with Rochdale. Jenny can help see to the packing, then you can follow in the carriage."
Aunt Haygood sat straight up in bed. "Oh, dear! Is Robert going to be all right? How bad is he?"
Upon receiving assurances that he was not at death's door, she eyed her niece with misgiving. "Alexandra Turlington! Do not tell me you are going to ride alone with Lord Rochdale! It would be highly improper! Why he's the biggest libertine in England!" She straightened her cap and leaned back against the plump pillows. "Robert is in safe hands at Willowmede. It would be much better to wait for Jenny and me. It won't take us long to get ready, then we can all go comfortably in the carriage."
Alex kissed her aunt's cheek. "I have no time to wait for the packing and the dawdling pace of the carriage. Robert needs me now, Aunt."
"Promise me, you'll ride side-saddle," implored Miss Haygood. "You know how I disapprove of your unmaidenly desire to ride astride. It's bad enough when you ride like a hoyden at Willowmede, but you must practice decorum in public or you shall ruin your reputation."
"I'll do the proper until we are out of Bath," Alex promised.
"And you will take a groom, won't you, dearest?" pleaded her aunt.
"Don't get into one of your pothers," Alex said, deftly avoiding the issue. "I'll be fine. I expect to see you and Jenny at Willowmede by dinner time." Alexandra kissed her aunt goodbye and left the room.
Down the hall, she tapped on the door of Jenny's bedchamber with her riding crop and peeked into the room. Jenny sat at the dressing table, waiting patiently for her maid to finish winding her long silky braids around the crown of her head.
Alex walked in and gave her a quick hug. "I've come to tell you I'm off to Willowmede. Rochdale has brought Robert home. He's been wounded and needs nursing."
Jenny's gray eyes dilated and her face paled alarmingly. Alex knew her friend loved Robert like a brother. When she and Jenny were in school, they had spent many vacations together at Willowmede. Grabbing the vinaigrette, Alex waved it under Jenny's nose.
"Thank you, dearest," Jenny whispered. "That is quite enough. How bad is he hurt?"
"He's lost an arm," Alex explained gently.
Jenny took the vinaigrette from her and sniffed it again. "Lost an arm, you say?"
"Yes, and he's extremely weak
and needs me. Rochdale is waiting below. We're leaving at once. You and Aunt Haygood can start out this afternoon."
"Of course," Jenny said, her color slowly returning. "I'm sorry, Alex. I don't know what came over me. It must have been the shock--to suddenly receive tidings about Robert, after not hearing anything for months." She summoned up a smile. "Now, don't worry about things here. I'll help your aunt with everything."
Turning back toward her dressing table, she caught Alexandra's eyes in the mirror. "Will you be all right with Rochdale?"
Alex gripped her riding crop tightly in her hands. "Yes, he's been kindness itself. He's taken care of Robert, accompanied him to Willowmede all the way from London, and rode here with the news."
Jenny dismissed her maid and rose from her dressing table. "Well, I'm glad to see there's some good in the man they call Demon. Will you really be all right riding alone with him, dearest?"
Alexandra shrugged a shoulder. "I'll be fine. I've refined too much on that incident in the observatory--it was so long ago. And it was only a kiss. He probably doesn't even remember. I've made up my mind to accept Carlisle's proposal and get on with my life. But first, I must see to Robert."
CHAPTER THREE
Damien waited outside with his horse until Alexandra emerged from the house. She had taken the news of her brother quite well. No tears or hysterics like most women would enact. She had swayed, and he'd thought she might faint. He remembered the exquisite feel of her delicate shoulders under his hands when he had caught her. The worry in her emerald eyes had almost been his undoing, and he had resolutely pushed her away. He had wanted to comfort her, yet could not. He'd foolishly given up that privilege long ago.
A Turlington groom led a sleek black stallion around from the mews. Damien noticed there was a regulation saddle instead of a lady's side-saddle on Alex's horse. He was about to ask the groom if he'd made a mistake, but forgot what he was going to say when the door opened and Alex skipped lightly down the steps.
She looked unbelievably beautiful in her severe black habit with a split skirt. A froth of white lace nestled at her throat, and a tiny hat sat jauntily on her head. When the groom helped Alexandra onto her horse, Damien quickly turned to adjust his girth. He sought to control the irrational urge to knock the servant down, simply for touching her. The feelings were idiotic; he was behaving like a mooncalf. He must repress such absurd emotions. She was only a woman, after all.
Mounting his horse, Damien looked toward Alex. She was seated sideways on the saddle. She waved the groom aside, leaving him behind as they headed north toward Willowmede. Shortly after passing the city gates, Alexandra came to an abrupt halt and dismounted before Rochdale knew what was happening.
"What the devil?" H pulled on the reins and turned his horse around.
"I won't be but a moment," Alex said. "I'll cover ground more quickly if I sit astride. Would you please help me remount and then we can be on our way?"
"My pleasure," he said, unable to hide an appreciative grin. She'd always been a headstrong little thing. He dismounted and stood looking down at her for a long moment, admiring the fine contours of her lovely face. The grin swiftly faded when his eyes fell to her lips. They were soft and red like rosebuds. He knew how she tasted. He wanted to taste her again.
Swallowing hard, Damien grasped her waist, tossed her up in the saddle and quickly relinquished his hold.
With cheeks flushed, Alexandra settled her divided skirt. "Thank you. May we now proceed?" Her breathless voice gave evidence to the fact she wasn't immune to his touch.
Damien held her gaze. She didn't look away, but instead lifted her chin. "I hope I haven't shocked you," she said, clasping the reins in a firm grip. "As you can see, I still prefer to ride astride. In town, I ride side-saddle, of course. I'm not completely lost to all convention."
She gave her horse the office to start and left Damien standing in the middle of the road, staring after her.
When he caught up, Alexandra stood in the stirrups and surveyed the landscape. "Let's cut across those fields. We'll make better time if we do."
"Lead on, Miss Turlington," he said. If she preferred to ignore what had just passed between them, that was fine by him. It was for the best, really.
They rode cross-country, jumping fences and stiles instead of keeping to the roads. Alexandra had always been an excellent horsewoman with good bottom and light hands. Damien thought she sat her horse better than most women; better, in fact, than many men of his acquaintance.
"Now, just over that rise and we'll be there," she said, pointing her riding crop toward the west. She urged her mount to a faster gait, and Damien gently spurred his own horse. It wasn't long before they rode up the gravel drive and stopped in front of the gabled Elizabethan manor house of Willowmede.
Damien helped Alexandra to dismount, unable to resist the opportunity to touch her again. His inability to keep his hands to himself didn't bode well for the visit. "Go on," he said gruffly. "Robert is eager to see you. I'll tend to the horses and then join you."
Alexandra threw him a strange glance and ran up the steps. What was she thinking? Why should he care? Damien shook his head. Why was he so drawn to this particular woman?
Leading the horses to the stables, he clenched his fists around the reins. He could still feel the warmth of her body through the thick layers of her riding habit. He could still smell her unique scent that had haunted him all these years.
Was he tempting fate by remaining at Willowmede? He was treading dangerous waters and knew it. For more reasons than he cared to acknowledge, Damien hoped Robert made a quick recovery.
****
Once she'd entered the house and climbed the stairs, Alexandra hesitated outside her brother's bedroom door. Would Robert be changed? How would he receive her? At her knock, the valet opened the door and allowed her to enter his master's chamber.
Looking toward the bed, she asked quietly, "Is he awake?"
"Yes, Miss. He's been asking for you this hour or more." Alexandra walked slowly to the bed, her eyes filling with tears as Robert turned his head and smiled tiredly at her. "Oh, Robbie!" she cried, throwing herself on her knees beside the bed. She laid her head on his broad chest. It broke her heart to see her big strong brother looking so pale and weak.
Robert stroked her hair. "Alex," he whispered. He hugged her to him with his good arm, as she started to cry.
After a few moments, Alexandra wiped her eyes. Groping in her pocket, she pulled out a delicate lawn handkerchief and blew her nose. "I've been so worried! Why didn't you write? Someone should have notified me. Oh God! I'm so glad you're home and safe."
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft and hushed. "The Foreign Office would have contacted you, but I told them not to. I intended to write to you myself, but I was so weak I couldn't write or even dictate a letter. And as time passed, I found I didn't want to."
Alex narrowed her eyes accusingly. "Robert Andrew Turlington! If you knew what agonies I've been through!" she scolded. "I don't know how I could survive if anything happened to you. I need you, Robert! With Mama and Papa gone, you are the dearest person left to me."
He turned his head away from her. "I've lost an arm. My right arm, Alex. I'm not a whole man anymore. How will I ride? How will I eat? I can't function with one arm."
Alexandra kissed his cheek. "What foolishness! Of course, you can function. You're forgetting Admiral Nelson. He did quite well with one arm." She sat on the edge of the bed. "I know it's a devastating loss, but thank God, you're alive! Thirty-five is much too young to cast aside your life. After you're strong again, you'll be glad you lost only an arm."
Robert stared at the ceiling. "How shall I be glad? I'm practically helpless. How can I ever marry? Lady Felicia will not want half a man," he said harshly.
Alexandra laid her hand upon his arm. "You are not half a man! If she truly loves you, she'll be thankful you're safe and well."
Robert looked at his sister. "I'm going to cry off from
the engagement. I won't put Felicia to the blush. She's only nineteen; too young to be tied to a one-armed husband."
"Naturally, you may do as you wish," she replied. "I suggest we take this one step at a time." Alexandra adjusted the coverlet and plumped up the pillows. "First, let's get you well. Then we will worry about Lady Felicia."
Robert smiled crookedly at her. "You always were a bossy little thing." He closed his eyes and dozed.
****
After Damien saw the horses to the stable, he decided against joining the Turlingtons. He would only be in the way as brother and sister reunited. He walked across the lawns to the observatory situated at the back of the great manor house.
Entering by the side door, he climbed the steep stairs. He thought of Alexandra's determination to get to Robert as quickly as possible. She had been ready to leave in an instant. He'd enjoyed the cross-country ride. How many times in the past, had he and Alex ridden together, exploring the countryside?
At the top of the stairwell, he paused. It had been ten years since he had visited Willowmede and the Turlington Observatory. Damien opened the door. Nothing had changed. It was the same as he'd remembered.
Since the old baron had spent most of his days and nights studying the stars, the room had been furnished with a comfortable daybed near one of the windows. A Queen Anne side-table and overstuffed armchair sat nearby. In the center of the room stood a large telescope pointing toward the cleverly designed ceiling. The high dome could be opened and closed with a switch of a mechanism in the wall.
Damien walked over to a long workbench and looked at the neat pile of journals filled with data. Choosing one near the top, he scanned several pages. The entries were written in a delicate female script. Alexandra must be continuing her father's work. The thoroughness of the data fascinated him as he began studying the entries. He sat down and was soon absorbed in one of his favorite pastimes.
****
When she was sure Robert was resting comfortably, Alexandra went to her bedchamber to change out of her riding habit. She rang for someone to help her dress, since her own maid was still in Bath. The housekeeper sent up the new maid named Lucy.
Midnight My Love Page 3