You’re jealous!
“Fine,” she said. I’m not jealous. “You were supposed to marry Gwyneth and got stuck with me. That’s beside the point. Why would someone beat her up and leave her on our doorstep?”
“I know not. A warning of some sort, mayhap. But why? And from whom?”
“From Severon?” she guessed. “But if he knew we were here, why not attack us? Why go after your ex-girlfriend? I’m too tired to think about it anymore. I’m going to bed.”
He got up and walked to the door. When he reached it, he turned back, concern in his eyes. “How is she?”
“She’s fine,” she said. “She woke up around four-thirty this morning and shows no permanent damage. I talked to her. She didn’t see the men who attacked her.”
“Was she…did they…?”
“No.” She shook her head. “They didn’t. She wasn’t assaulted that way.”
He nodded and walked out, closing the door behind him.
It took her longer to get to sleep than it should have, just as Lukas’s revelation about his relationship with Gwyneth bothered her more than it should have. Maybe it was the sheets, she thought, turning from one side to the other. They smelled like Lukas—almonds mingled with leather. She breathed in, the scent bringing to mind the man who moments ago occupied the bed.
For some reason, sleeping on the sheets he recently vacated seemed more intimate than the kiss they shared after their wedding. She groaned and rolled over again. It would do no good to think of Lukas in such a way. He didn’t want her as a wife. He made that point clear on their wedding night.
Was he downstairs talking with Gwyneth? He hadn’t seemed interested in playing nursemaid to her the night before. Had he changed his mind?
She fell into an uneasy sleep, his scent surrounding her, taunting her, while her mind conjured images of him with Gwyneth.
****
She was jealous.
The thought brought Lukas unexpected pleasure. She tried to hide it, but it was obvious in the way she spoke Gwyneth’s name and the way her mouth twitched when he talked of her.
Gwyneth. As if the childish girl could hold a candle to the woman Alexia was. He would be forever indebted to his father if for no other reason than the marriage to Alexia prevented his nuptials with Gwyneth.
****
Lexy woke to noises coming from the room next door. The staff must have moved Gwyneth upstairs. It was a good sign, and the poor girl deserved a bed over the uncomfortable couch. She wouldn’t be able to travel home, which meant they’d have to postpone their return to Hullington until Thursday.
Lexy sat up as Mary tiptoed into the room.
“Sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You’re fine, Mary,” Lexy reassured her. “How’s our patient doing?”
Mary put clean linens on the edge of the bed. “Miss Dumont is much improved. You should have called me to help last night.”
Lexy got out of bed and put on a clean underdress. “Nonsense. There was no need to get you up when I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself. Where’s Lukas?”
“Prince Lukas just returned from delivering a message to his father. I believe him to be downstairs having some refreshment.”
“Has he been gone long?” Lexy concentrated on the details of the dark green dress Mary was lacing up, trying to act as though she didn’t care about the answer.
“He left not long after you retired.”
“Hmm,” she replied, hiding a small smile.
****
She went to check on Gwyneth later that afternoon. Her color was better, but her right eye remained swollen shut, and Lexy saw her wince as she brought herself into a sitting position.
“I don’t think you broke any ribs, but you’re going to be sore for the next few days.” Lexy said in a low voice, trying unsuccessfully to push aside the image of Gwyneth and Lukas dancing. Gwyneth remained silent, brushing her hands over the sheet covering her. It was so easy to imagine those dainty hands clasped in Lukas’s.
Lexy’s mouth went dry. “Lukas arranged for our coachman to take you home tomorrow. You should be able to travel by then.”
Gwyneth still didn’t speak. Lexy studied her, mentally checking her injuries. Large purple bruises covered her face, and one pale blue eye stared out over the bed. Someone, probably Mary, had washed her hair. Last night it had been matted with dirt and leaves. It gleamed now, the honey blonde locks falling gracefully over her shoulders.
“Can I get you something to eat or drink?” Lexy asked.
Gwyneth shook her head, still not making eye contact.
Lexy started to leave. There was no need for her to remain, and she had no desire to carry on a one-sided conversation.
“He should have been mine.” The voice was quiet, any softer and Lexy would have missed the comment. She moved back from the door to find Gwyneth still looking over the bed. “It was planned. The contract nearly in place. He was mine, and you stole him.”
What could she say? ‘I’m sorry,’ didn’t seem right. The truth, she realized with a shock, was she wasn’t. ‘You can have him,’ wouldn’t do either. It would be disrespectful to Lukas and untrue.
Gwyneth turned her one good eye to stare boldly at her. She remembered the confidence Gwyneth possessed when she approached Lukas at the wedding and matched the stare.
“I know,” Lexy answered, just as bold. “He told me. But I won’t apologize for marrying him.”
Fighting everything within her, she walked back to the bed and sat down. “One of the things I struggle with more than anything is that life doesn’t always turn out the way I want. But I’ve also discovered God’s plans are far better than anything I could have imagined on my own.”
Gwyneth dropped her gaze back to the sheets. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Lexy stood and left the room.
****
On her way to bed that night, Lexy heard Lukas’s voice from the guestroom. Not wanting to eavesdrop, but finding herself unable to move, she stood in the doorway of her room.
“This is not how things should be.” Gwyneth sounded like a pouty child.
“What in life is as it should be?” Lukas’s voice reminded Lexy of a father talking to such a child.
“But where did she come from? How can one reappear after being gone for so long? And her voice? She’s so odd.”
“Princess Alexia is a remarkable woman, and I will not have you speaking badly of her. Did you know she found you and dressed your wounds with her own hands?”
Remarkable? Where did that come from?
“Mayhap she is but an imposter. What princess does such things? Either way, it matters not. I should be the one you married.”
“But you were not and as a married man, I should not be in your room. I merely wanted to ensure you were well.”
Had she heard relief in Lukas’s voice as he spoke to his old girlfriend?
“Lukas—”
“Do not address me so informally.”
The fact he wouldn’t allow her to use his first name probably shouldn’t make Lexy so happy. Probably it just made her petty.
There was a long pause. “Goodbye, Miss Dumont.”
****
Lexy stood at the front door the next morning to bid Gwyneth farewell. When Lukas stood beside her and watched the young blonde get in the carriage, she covered her surprise. But when he placed an arm around Lexy’s waist, she turned to stare at him. Everything she’d planned to say to Gwyneth left; all she could think of was the strong arm around her.
What was he doing? Was it an effort to show Gwyneth he was no longer available? Could he be trying to tell her he wanted more from their marriage?
Gwyneth’s bright smile faded into a deep frown at whatever his silent statement was.
“You are fortunate your injuries were not more severe,” Lukas said, obviously oblivious to the complete shock overtaking both women in his presence. “You would be wise to take care in the fut
ure.”
“Thank you for your hospitality, Your Highness.” Gwyneth ignored Lukas and directed her comments to Lexy. “You have been most kind.”
“Safe travels,” Lexy choked out. “Let us know if you remember anything more about Monday night.”
When the carriage faded from sight, Lukas removed his arm and took her hand. “You are grace and mercy embodied, Alexia.” He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles.
As if realizing what he did, he dropped her hand and cleared his throat. His mouth opened, but instead of talking, he walked back inside the house.
The feel of his kiss lingered on her hand. What had gotten into him?
Chapter Eleven
When they left for Hullington the next morning, Lexy felt torn. Part of her had enjoyed the peace and quiet of the cottage, but another part was ready to return to Hullington and the task ahead. And while it had only been a few days, she missed Ebbe and Margaret and was eager to spend time with someone other than Lukas. She still couldn’t decide what to make of his actions the day before.
He sat in silence beside her. She thought back to the gentleman he’d been at Hadden House, the slight insights he’d offered into his past, the gentle teasing tone he’d used, and the pleasant times they shared. Where was that man? Surely he was buried somewhere beneath the quiet façade of the person at her side.
“We shall arrive at Hullington soon.” His voice broke through her thoughts.
“Part of me is ready to get on with it, and part of me could stay at the cottage a bit longer. Although, I can honestly say, I never thought I’d share my honeymoon with my husband’s ex-girlfriend.” Or that said husband would be sleeping on the floor. Not wanting the conversation to continue on its present path, she added, “Gwyneth didn’t look quite ready to leave.”
“Miss Dumont is young. I imagine another man will turn her head soon.”
“I don’t know, something tells me she’ll find you hard to replace.”
A sad look came over his face. Maybe she’d misread his intentions toward the blonde. Something in Lexy’s belly twisted at the thought, and she shoved it aside to deal with later.
They arrived at Hullington not long after. Ebbe and Margaret walked outside as the carriage came to a stop. Lexy hugged them both, delighted to be home and surprised at the thought of Hullington being home.
“Is my father still in residence?” Lukas asked. When Ebbe replied affirmatively, he muttered a low oath and led the group inside.
Lexy listened to Margaret explain how she’d moved her and Lukas’s things to the master suite.
Hadn’t Lukas mentioned alternative arrangements once they returned to Hullington? Such arrangements would be unknown to Margaret, of course. She nodded in agreement to whatever Margaret said.
Culberton’s voice stopped them all.
“Princess Lexy! How your presence lightens a room. You have been missed.”
She stifled a groan. Now that Culberton had managed to force her to marry his son, how much longer would he insist on staying?
“Culberton,” she nodded. “How nice to see you again.”
Her father-in-law’s gaze held a knowing gleam. “I must say I was not surprised to hear of your delay in returning. I have heard it is quite hard to resist the charms of a Reynard man.” He winked.
Margaret gasped.
Lord, help me not to say anything I’ll regret. And if it’s not too much to ask, please let him leave soon.
“Father.” All heads turned to Lukas, his calm voice at odds with the anger in his eyes. “You shall not address Alexia with the low manner you take with me.” He moved to stand behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Am I understood?”
His father smirked. “Lukas. You misunderstood. I was merely teasing the girl.”
Lukas’s hand felt large and warm, and she took a step backward, anxious for the security it offered. For once, Lukas became her defender. It felt comforting, somehow, to be under his protection.
His hand tightened a little on her shoulder. “You were doing no such thing. I insist you treat Alexia with the respect due her as both my wife and your daughter. Believe me, this is not a battle you wish to fight. Mark my words, you will lose.”
Culberton seemed to weigh Lukas’s words, the options playing across his face. “Princess Lexy, I beg your forgiveness if I have offended you in any way. I shall see you all at dinner tonight.” He bowed.
A good choice, she thought, recalling the ire she’d seen on previous occassions in Lukas’s eyes. Behind her Lukas dropped his hand, long fingers brushing her back in their descent. She shivered.
After Culberton left, Margaret led Lexy and Lukas to their suite of rooms. A spacious sitting room connected two bedrooms. His and hers, Lexy decided. With two bedrooms, he’d no longer have to sleep on her floor. She knew he’d be happy, but couldn’t decide how she felt. He was her husband. He stood up to his father for her. And yet, he’d not wished to marry her or consummate their vows. Quite perplexing. Maybe if he slept in a different room, she’d be able to decide how she felt about him.
“His Grace has moved to the room Lukas was in,” Margaret explained. “He wishes for you to occupy these instead. He thought them more suitable for a married couple.” She walked to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get some refreshment.”
Lukas peered into the hallway after she left. “I fear I shall have to impose on your floor longer. Peterson was in my father’s employment for a long time. If I occupy the other bedroom, word will get back to him. It shall only be until he leaves.”
So much for deciding how she felt about him. “Would it help if I slept on the floor some?”
He looked endearingly shocked. “You cannot think I would allow that.”
“No, but I thought I’d offer.”
****
He had lied to her.
Of course at that point, it hardly mattered, but he had lied all the same. It was true Peterson had once been in his father’s service, but he had been Lukas’s valet for much longer. So loyal was Peterson, Lukas was certain he could make his bed in the kitchen and outside of seeing if he needed anything, the man would never breathe a word of it to anyone.
However, Alexia’s floor held several advantages over the kitchen. For one, he was able to watch her prepare for sleep. Nothing improper, he thought. But the sight of her kneeling by her bed, making petitions to God, held him enthralled. He studied her while she prayed, watched her face progress from worry to a peace so encompassing it left him breathless.
In the mornings, she would wake slowly, her tousled hair pleading for his fingers to straighten the tangles. He loved the peevish way she faced the day, as if she would give anything to stay in bed longer. But then she would resign herself to getting up and once the decision was made, she held nothing back.
No. The floor was not comfortable, but he had slept on worse and would endure a lot more for the small intimacies afforded by sharing a room with his intriguing wife.
****
Friday night Lexy stared at the ceiling, counting wooden beams. A daunting task with the candles out and the moon covered by clouds, but she was unable to give up and let sleep claim her. Culberton announced at dinner that she and Lukas had been requested to attend a dinner party the next night at the home of Lord Weston.
She knew the time would come when she would be introduced to society, looked forward to it even. To finally have to face it, though, made her uneasy. How would she be accepted? What should she say? Most importantly, would Severon hear of her? How would that affect their plans? Her stomach began to ache and she placed a hand over it in an attempt to keep her nerves at bay.
“Alexia?” Lukas called, sleep apparently evading him as well. “Are you awake?”
She sighed. “Yes, for some reason thoughts of tomorrow night are keeping me up.”
“We should come up with a response to give if someone asks where you have been.”
“Good idea.�
�� Maybe with a plan she would be able to sleep.
“What was your place? I know it was not Dresdonia.”
She rolled to her side. In the dim room, he appeared as a shape in the corner. “I’m from America.”
“America?”
“Sorry. Um, the new world. You know, ‘in fourteen ninety-two he sailed the ocean blue?’”
“Christopher Columbus say you? That new world?”
“Yes.”
“Most remarkable. But not a response we can give.” He sat up in the dark. “Parlez-vous Francais?”
“Oui, tres mal.”
“Sprechen sie Deutsch?”
“No, not a bit.”
“We could not possibly pass you off as a Spaniard.”
“No we couldn’t. Especially since I don’t speak Spanish either.”
“Do you speak anything other than English?”
“Oh sure. Amo, amas, amat, amamus, amatis, amant.”
“You know Latin?”
“I told you I’d been schooled.”
“Yes, but Latin? I have never heard a woman speak Latin before.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I’ve just exhausted my entire knowledge.” She chuckled, pleased to have caught him off-guard.
“We shall say you have been residing in England, then. Although I have never heard anyone speak the way you do.”
“Thanks. I think.”
She rolled onto her back and assumed the long silence meant Lukas had fallen asleep, when he called out again.
“Alexia?”
“Yes.”
“I have a question.”
“Okay.”
“Your Jesus.” He took his time, but when he continued, the question took her breath away. “Can He forgive anything?”
She sat up. “Yes, Lukas, He can. He does.”
“But anything?”
The Peculiar Princess Page 13