How could he have known that he would ever feel like this? Tenderness engulfed him as she shifted in her sleep, cuddling closer to him. She was so soft, so delicate, and yet that slender body housed a fiery temperament and a bottomless well of emotion that amazed him. He had never felt this way before.
Not even about Bianca.
He tried to recall Bianca’s face, and found he couldn’t. He remembered that she had been built much like Diana, but there the similarity between the two women ended. Bianca had thought him huge and terrifying, a rutting beast. She had hardly ever spoken to him above a whisper and almost never unless he spoke to her first. She had certainly never kicked him in the shin or brazenly offered herself to him. He realized with sudden hindsight that he and Bianca had been ill-suited.
A small amount of the guilt he had carried for so long shifted. They had been two completely different people, he mused, idly stroking a hand over Diana’s slim hip. He had always been a man of strong passions. Bianca had intended to enter a convent when her father signed the betrothal agreement.
This fact took on greater meaning as he considered it from a new perspective. Bianca had not been prepared for marriage, much less the marriage bed. She had been completely incapable of dealing with his strong sexual appetites. One night her fear had caused her to flee from him, and she had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a slow breath. Bianca should have been allowed to give herself to the church. She had not been meant to be any man’s wife.
Mayhap her death had not entirely been his fault.
“Good morning.”
Diana’s soft voice broke into his thoughts, dispelling the ghosts of the past. He looked down into her face and stroked a thumb over her lips. “Good morning, amada.” Beloved, he echoed in his mind. He gazed at her so long that she flushed.
“Alex, cease your staring.” She pulled the covers to her chin.
“Very well.” He yanked the bedclothes from her hands and pulled her atop him. Her soft curves molded to his body and aroused him all over again. He took her mouth in a long, thorough kiss.
She was breathless when he finally released her.
“‘Tis indeed a pleasant morning,” he said. Then he slapped her bare buttocks. “Up with you, wench! We have much to do today.”
“‘Twas not I who started things,” she muttered, rubbing her abused posterior.
He laughed at her disgruntled tone and kissed her lips. “Fetch your clothes, my sweet.” He tumbled her from atop him and rose from the bed.
Diana stretched out on the mattress and surreptitiously eyed his naked body. Memories of their passion swept through her mind, and her cheeks heated as she remembered her own abandon. She was still not quite comfortable with this new aspect of her personality. She tore her gaze from him and glanced out the window. The sun shone brightly in a clear, blue sky.
“‘Tis a beautiful morning,” she said.
“Indeed. A fine morning.” Whistling, Alex did up the buttons of his breeches. “Come, you lazy wench. We have no time to lie abed all day.”
She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. “And why is that?”
“We are going visiting this morning.”
“Who are we going to see?” She slid from the bed, very self-conscious of her nudity.
Grinning, he pulled on his shirt. “We are going to call on the countess. I always visit her when I am here.”
“Oh.” She bent and picked up the damaged yellow silk she had worn the day before. She had no wish to meet this mysterious countess, though she should probably be flattered that he deigned to introduce her. Fingering the torn and bloody sleeve, she said, “This seems the worse for wear.”
He frowned as he tucked the edges of a fresh black shirt into the waist of his breeches. “I suppose I shall have to find something. I can’t introduce you to M—the countess in blood-stained clothing.”
“I suppose not,” she echoed in a thin voice. She had noticed his slip of the tongue. What had he been about to call the countess? Obviously, he did not normally use her title. Perhaps they were on such intimate terms that she allowed him to use her given name.
Rosana’s accusations came back to her suddenly. The whole island knows that la patrona is your true love, that someday you will return with a ship full of gold and marry her. Until then the rest of us are just bodies to warm your bed.
Was it true? She looked out the window again, her heart heavy. If Rosana was to be believed, then Diana was about to meet the woman who held the key to Alex’s heart. Was the countess truly the woman Alex loved, or was this merely another figment of Rosana’s jealousy?
She would soon find out.
An hour later, Alex escorted her to the door of the huge manor house.
“Are you certain I am presentable?” Diana asked for the third time.
“You look beautiful.” Alex gave her an approving look.
Diana glanced down at the outfit he had bought for her, a dark brown skirt and a new chemise, with a stomacher that was more laces than material. It was a more provocative outfit than she was used to wearing, but it was the standard costume for the women of the island. She had tied her hair back with ribbons, in an attempt to attain a modest effect that was absent from most of the village wenches.
“I feel strange in these clothes, though I admit they are cooler than what I would normally wear.”
“Indeed they are.” After rapping the heavy brass knocker against the door, he turned and raised her hand to his lips. “They are also easier to get off you.”
“Alex, stop.” She snatched her hand away, her body warming at the lusty look in his eyes.
“But, darling, I thought you enjoyed my kisses,” he teased.
“I am sure she does.”
Both of them turned at the sound of the voice. While they had been talking, the door had been opened by a woman of such beauty that it sent a sharp stab of jealousy through Diana’s heart. Though she didn’t want to believe Rosana’s words, she could easily see how Alex might love this woman.
She was older than Diana had expected. Strands of silver shot through her luxurious midnight-black hair, but few lines marred her porcelain-like skin. Clad in black satin, she possessed the rounded curves and trim waist of a much younger woman.
Diana disliked her on sight, despite her better sense.
Alex smiled. “What are you doing opening your own door?” he teased with a tender note in his voice. “Do you not have servants for that very purpose?”
“I do.” Her dark gaze settled on him with distinct disapproval. “But I wanted to greet you myself, Alejandro. We have much to discuss.”
Diana wondered at her tone. Was she displeased that Alex had brought another woman to her home? And why did the countess wear black in this heat? Was she in mourning, and if so, for whom? Her husband perhaps? Was it only the mourning period that kept the countess and Alex apart?
“Indeed, we have much to talk about,” Alex said, apparently undisturbed by the countess’s tone. He pulled Diana forward. “Diana, I am pleased to present to you Lady Miranda Rawnsley de Besosa, Countess of Rothstone. My lady, may I present Mistress Diana Covington of Jamaica?”
“I am most pleased to have you in my home,” Lady Rothstone said. “Please come in.”
“Thank you,” Diana murmured, stepping reluctantly through the door. Miranda, she thought, recalling Alex’s slip of the tongue back at the tavern. He must have been about to say Miranda, but he caught himself. Was Rosana right? Does he love her? And if so, what part do I hold in his life?
She resolved to watch the two closely in order to gauge their relationship for herself.
Alex scowled as he followed Diana into the house. Her flat tone of voice displayed a lack of enthusiasm about meeting his mother. He wanted to question her about her behavior, but the countess spoke first.
“I was just breaking my fast when you arrived. I hope you will both join me.”
The pointed look h
is mother sent him made the words not a request but a command.
“We would be honored,” he responded obediently.
“Excellent.” Giving them a regal nod, the countess led them through the house into an ornate dining room. Alex stood back at the door and allowed both his mother and Diana to precede him into the room. Then he followed. He stopped dead in the doorway.
“Good mornin tae ye, captain.” His mouth full of food, Birk saluted them with a piece of bread. “And tae you as well, lassie.”
Alex shot his mother a look of outraged anger as she seated herself at the head of the table, beside Birk. “What the devil is this?”
“Breakfast,” Birk answered. He turned to the countess on his left. “More chocolate, milady?” At her nod, he poured hot cocoa into her cup.
“How long have you been here?” Despite Diana’s presence, Alex placed his hands flat on the table across from Birk and leaned forward. His entire body vibrated with the urge to smash his fist into his best friend’s face.
Birk sipped at his glass of madeira and grinned. “Set yerself down, Alex. Have a bite tae eat.”
“My stomach turns at the thought,” Alex sneered. “Tell me, Birk, how long have you been here? Since last night, perhaps?”
“Alejandro!”
He ignored his mother’s shocked exclamation and focused on the man he considered his best friend. He of all people knew of Birk’s prowess in charming the fairer sex. He had thought, however, that his mother would be the one woman safe from Birk’s wenching ways!
Understanding dawned on Birk’s face. Slowly he stood, holding Alex’s gaze with his own. “Ye’re no thinkin’ that the countess and I—”
“What would you think, Birk? ‘Tis quite a cozy scene.” He gestured around him. “A beautiful, wealthy widow. A lavish breakfast. You, here, at an hour so early that even I hesitated to call.” He rested one hand on the hilt of his dagger. “Tell me I am wrong.”
“You are wrong.”
The words came not from Birk, but from the countess. Alex glanced at her. She stood proudly, her chin lifted.
“Be seated, Madame. This is a matter best handled between men.”
“I will not be seated! You forget to whom you are speaking, Alejandro.”
“My lady—” the Scotsman started.
“Silence, Birk. This is between Alejandro and myself.” She glared at Alex, making him feel as if he were a babe all over again. “How dare you enter this house and start flinging accusations! Even if Birk had been here since last night, even if we were lovers, it would not be your concern.”
“The hell it would not!”
Lady Rothstone closed her hand around the heavy gold crucifix she wore around her neck. “You dare speak such blasphemy in this house?”
Alex flushed. His mother was a devout Catholic and did not tolerate the slightest profanity to be uttered in her presence. “I apologize,” he said with true contrition. “But what am I to think?”
“Alex, were the countess tae look at me in such a manner, ye ken I would be truly flattered. But I wouldna betray ye like that.”
“I know that, Birk, and I apologize.” Alex released his dagger hilt to extend his hand and gave his friend a wry smile.
“Dinna apologize tae me,” Birk laughed, seating himself again. “It’s a compliment that ye thought me handsome enough tae catch the lady’s eye.”
Alex went over to his mother and took her hands in both of his. He kissed her fingers, then her cheek. “Forgive me,” he murmured. “I have a terrible temper, as you well know.”
“I know.” She lifted a hand to stroke his face.
He closed his eyes against her gentle touch. “I promise to control myself from now on.”
Her caress turned to a light slap, enough to admonish but not sting. “See that you do, Alejandro mio.”
The two exchanged smiles of understanding.
“Pardon me.”
Alex turned at the sound of Diana’s voice, suddenly realizing he had forgotten her presence. “Yes, Diana?”
“I do not feel well, Alex. Perhaps it would be best if I went back to the tavern.”
“Nonsense,” the countess said before Alex could answer. “You will not be going back to that nasty place. You are going to stay here with me. Has Alejandro not told you?”
Diana slanted a look at Alex. “It must have slipped his mind.”
“Diana—” Alex began.
“But you do look pale,” Lady Rothstone interrupted. “I shall have someone show you to your room. A little rest may help.”
“Thank you,” Diana murmured.
The countess picked up a small, silver bell from the table and rang it. Moments later, a young, pretty Spanish girl entered the room.
“Maria, please show this lady to the corner bedroom.”
Maria bobbed a curtsey and glanced at Diana. “This way, señorita.”
Diana nodded and followed the maid. She paused in the doorway and cast Alex one sharp, accusing look before she left the room.
Alex frowned as he watched her leave. He didn’t doubt her fatigue after the events of last night, but why had she looked at him with such pain in her eyes?
“Och, the poor lassie.”
He looked at Birk. “She’s just tired.”
Birk shook his head. “Alex, ye’re the blindest man I ever kent. The lass cares for ye, and she thinks ye’re in love wi’ the countess.”
“What?” Astounded, Alex demanded, “Why would she think that?”
“Because o’ what Rosana said last evenin’ in the tavern. Ye’ve heard the rumors, my friend. Most o’ the island thinks ye’re havin an affair wi’ Lady Rothstone.”
“Blast it!” Remembering his manners, he glanced at his mother. “My apologies, Mama.”
Graciously ignoring his profanity, she said, “You must go talk to her, Alejandro.”
“Aye, man. Go after her.” Birk toasted him with his madeira.
Alex wasted no time in following their advice. However, he had barely reached the door before his mother’s voice stopped him.
“Alejandro.” She paused until he met her gaze. “When you return, we will have words on the subject of ladies. Specifically, well-born ladies who duel with trollops in taverns.”
He nodded and left the room, not wanting to contemplate just what those words might be.
Diana dismissed the servant and looked around the ornately decorated bedroom. Some might have considered the airy room with its rich decor the very pinnacle of luxury. But to her it was a prison.
She spared a glance at the huge bed with its blue velvet hangings. It was the fashion for the wealthy to measure their affluence by the extravagance of their beds. The richer the person, the bigger and more ostentatious the bed. Though this particular bed was very large, it was tastefully decorated with blue velvet and gold trim. Diana’s educated eye picked out the high quality of the materials. Obviously the countess was a woman of means who preferred simplicity.
Diana sighed. She liked Lady Rothstone, despite the fact that Alex apparently loved her.
She turned her back on the bed and walked to the slatted, wooden doors opening out to the terrace. She had no interest in a resting place that she would no doubt occupy alone. Opening the doors, she stepped out to a breathtaking view of Besosa. But she didn’t see the cerulean sea or the bone-white sand. Instead all she could see was Alex…and the countess.
Her mind swam with images of Alex kissing Lady Rothstone’s fingers. Embracing her. The tender note in his voice when he spoke to her. Pain squeezed her heart. ‘Twas clear that Rosana’s words had been more than the ramblings of a woman scorned.
The emotional bond between Alex and the countess obviously ran very deep.
She let out a deep breath and stared up at the cloudless blue sky. She wanted to have such a bond with him. In fact, she thought they had begun to develop that sort of understanding. But his relationship with the countess appeared stronger and more intimate than the fragile affi
nity that grew between Alex and herself.
She could see why he loved her. Lady Rothstone was beautiful and gracious, and evidently cared for him a great deal. Diana felt like an awkward young girl beside the countess’s confident maturity. Yet she longed to be the woman to capture Alex’s heart.
What was her place in his life, she wondered, and did they have the future she had begun to imagine?
A footstep sounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder just as Alex stepped out on to the terrace. Their gazes held for a long moment. Then Diana turned back to the vista before her.
“Diana.” Coming up behind her, he closed his hands over her shoulders. His warm touch ignited banked feelings of desire, and the glide of his sea-roughened fingers brought bittersweet pleasure as he caressed her collarbone just above the low neckline of her chemise. She didn’t dare face him, certain that her arousal would show in her expression. “Diana,” he said again. “What troubles you, amada?”
She didn’t have the words to tell him of her confusion and doubt. Yet she couldn’t ignore him either. With a sigh, she leaned back against him.
He kissed her temple, then turned her around to look at him. Tilting her face up, he asked, “Would you care to explain what just happened in the dining room?”
She tried to step away from him, but he held her firmly. She raised pleading eyes to his. “Alex, let me go.”
She meant the words as more than a release from his touch. And he knew it.
“Nay, I cannot.” He took her in his arms and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Ask anything of me but that.”
“But I cannot stay here.” She rested her forehead against his chest, taking comfort from his embrace despite herself. “I cannot remain in this house and watch you with…her. Please take me back to the tavern.”
“Diana.” He stroked her hair back from her face. “Why would you wish to go back there, when you will be much more comfortable here?”
“Here? In the same house with the woman you….” She couldn’t finish the sentence. To her ears she sounded as bad as Rosana. “I am so confused,” she whispered.
Alex sighed. He looked pensive for a long moment, as if wrestling with a weighty decision. Finally, he spoke.
Once a Mistress Page 18