It was not, she noted, a volume of romantic poetry.
After another hour of jostling along the toll road, the tension within the carriage was as palpable as the damp chill that permeated the air. Finally Max could tolerate it no longer.
"What is wrong?" he demanded of his father. "Why are you and Mrs. Proctor acting as if something is dreadfully amiss if you haven't quarreled?"
The earl didn't raise his eyes from his book. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"What fustian!" said Max, unwilling to let the matter drop.
His father looked up with narrowed eyes. "I would prefer it that you don't indulge in a fit of sullens simply because I choose to read rather than converse at this early hour. It is a long journey, Max. Try to exhibit a little self-control."
"Don't patronize me as if I am a schoolboy," retorted Max. "As if I can't tell something is wrong," he added under his breath.
"Then stop acting like one," snapped Wrexham. "Else I'll order the carriage turned around this instant and take you back to the nursery."
Max let out a gasp of outrage but Allegra managed to forestall a further outburst by shooting him a warning look. Still, the situation was volatile enough that she felt she had to intervene to head off a real explosion.
"My lord," she said hesitantly. "In all fairness, Max hardly deserves to be spoken to in such—"
The earl's voice rose a notch. "Kindly refrain from telling me how to deal with my son, Mrs. Proctor."
"Don't yell at Mrs. Proctor!" cried Max. "She has done nothing to—"
"That's enough," said Allegra quietly, yet her tone caused Max to fall silent. "Let us not fall to brangling among ourselves." She took a deep breath. "Max, you must try to accept that there are a number of, ah, complex issues concerning this entire venture about which your father and I must come to a mutual understanding. It is not that we have... quarreled, it is just that we do not entirely agree on certain things and must work it out between ourselves. You may not understand it, but you must make allowances for it. Rest assured that you will be included in discussions that have bearing on our actual course of action."
Max appeared mollified by her words. "Very well," he said, picking up one of the books at his side. After a moment he added. "I apologize for my outburst, father."
Wrexham sighed. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, Max. It was indeed uncalled for."
The mood inside the carriage lightened somewhat. Allegra forced a smile to her lips. "What are you reading, Max?" she inquired, initiating a discussion that further coaxed the lad into his normal good humor.
* * *
Wrexham stared down at his book, mechanically turning the pages every so often, though they may as well have been written in Hindu for all that he was comprehending. He couldn't help but marvel at how well Allegra dealt with Max. It was uncanny how she had just the right feel for his quixotic moods and was able to coax him back into a good humor rather than having him fly into the boughs at the least provocation. Unlike himself, he thought with a grimace, who lately seemed to elicit only the worst behavior from his son.
Well, he seemed to be making a mull of most things these days.
He stole a glance at Allegra as she conversed with Max. Confound it, he wished he could tell what she was thinking! Her countenance revealed only her usual outward composure, but he had come to know her well enough to hear the coil of tension in her voice. That, and the fact that she steadfastly refused to meet his gaze in the forthright manner he had come to expect was a sign that she was not as unmoved by recent events as she would like to appear.
Did she think him an unprincipled rake—or worse—for his pawing advances? His hands tightened their hold on his book. It was impossible to explain what had come over him in those few moments. Lord knows, he had never experienced such a loss of control before and it made him rather angry—angry with himself for such incomprehensible behavior, angry with her for turning him so topsy turvy....
The carriage hit a rut, jostling Allegra's skirts and revealing a touch of ankle. Wrexham's mouth went slightly dry as he recalled the shapely legs beneath the woolen fabric, the way his palm had glided over their silky length. To his utter dismay, he began to feel a tightness in his groin. Giving thanks that the rain had slackened to a mere drizzle, he rapped on the trap to bring the carriage to a halt and stumbled out the door. Perhaps a hard gallop in this weather could dampen both his anger and his desire.
* * *
The sun was finally breaking through the scudding grey clouds when the horses trotted into the yard of the inn. As the ostlers sprang forward to change the team, Max and Allegra climbed down stiffly from their conveyance as the earl bespoke a private parlor from the obsequious landlord. Conversation over luncheon was excruciating civil, the words as stiff as their travel-worn limbs. As soon as was decently possible, Allegra excused herself, voicing the need to take a short stroll before having to submit once again to the confined space of the carriage.
There was a large walled garden behind the inn, and she slipped inside the iron gate, grateful for a modicum of privacy in which to order her thoughts. She had little time to reflect, however, before the crunch of boots on gravel caused her head to come up.
The earl came to a stop before her. There were a few moments of awkward silence before he forced himself to speak. "I feel beholden to offer apologies for my beastly behavior last night."
There was more anger than contrition in his voice, she noted, as she averted her eyes from his black scowl. "You needn't apologize, my lord," she said tightly. "I am well aware that the fault is entirely mine for what occurred."
"What?" he exclaimed, taken completely aback.
"Once again I have shown myself to be quite beyond the pale. My behavior was little better than that of a... a lightskirt," she elaborated. "You have every reason to feel that your low opinion of my judgment and my person are entirely justified." She squared her shoulders, unwilling to let him see how wretched she felt. "I... I deserve your scorn."
He gave an incredulous shake of his head. "That is hardly what I feel," he answered in a low voice.
"And I could hardly blame you if you wish to rid yourself of my presence as soon as we reach Town. I cannot imagine that you would wish your sister to be exposed to—"
"I told you, I don't go back on my promises. I have no intention of altering our plans."
"But..." she began.
Any flare of anger in his voice had faded, replaced by a different emotion. "Since your limited experiences have given you an odd understanding of relations between a man and a woman, you must take my word that the blame does not rest with anything you did. My actions—" he stopped short, suddenly aware that he had no idea how to explain his actions.
A horn sounded in the courtyard, signaling the arrival of the mailcoach. At the piercing note, a number of people began to emerge from the taproom. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Max had also come outside and was looking around in all directions.
He swore in frustration." Damnation! This is hardly the place to engage in a discussion of this sort—"
"I agree, sir," she interrupted, sparing him the need to go on. "In fact, there is really no need to discuss it any further at all. I'm sure both of us regret the appalling lapse of judgment and will never let such an unfortunate thing happen again." She took a sharp breath. "Perhaps it would be best if we could simply agree to forget the entire sordid incident and proceed with the important matter at hand."
His mouth compressed. So, she found his attentions "appalling" and incident "sordid." He stood silent, feeling utterly at a loss as to how to allay her misconceptions, how to express all that he wished to say. With a grunt of frustration, he gave up and nodded curtly. "Very well. Let us not mention it again."
Her eyes still avoided meeting his. "I shall endeavor not to give you any further reason to question my judgment."
Somehow, those words left him feeling precious little satisfaction.
* * *
It was a great relief to everyone when the carriage finally pulled up in front of the earl's townhouse in South Audley Street. The rest of journey had been rendered even more uncomfortable by unremitting bad weather and a broken wheel spoke that had caused almost a day's delay. The constant jostling and cramped confinement had subdued their spirits even further. By the last day of travel hardly a word was spoken until they reached the outskirts of the city, where Max, at least, was able to muster up some enthusiasm as the sights and sounds of London began to unroll before him.
Wrexham gave a series of terse orders to the two footmen who hastened down the marble steps to assist their descent from the carriage, then led Max and Allegra into the tastefully appointed entrance hall where the earl's butler greeted them with a formal bow.
"Welcome back, my lord. I trust you will find everything in order for your visit. Lady Alston informs me that you will staying rather longer than usual."
Any reply from the earl was forestalled by the rustle of silk as a tall, elegantly gowned lady hurried down the curved stairs.
"Leo! So you have arrived at last." She laid her long, slender fingers on the earl's shoulder and presented her cheek for a kiss. "You are looking well. Country life must still agree with you."
"As are you, my dear," murmured Wrexham as he finished his embrace. Despite his fatigue from the days of traveling, his lips curved into a fond smile. "I trust James is well and the boys are not getting into more mischief than usual."
"They will be sorry to have missed your visit—you are in Town so rarely these days." Her attention was distracted by the tall, coltish figure standing behind the earl. "Max!" she cried, abandoning all pretense ladylike reserve. She flung her arms around the lad's neck and hugged him tightly. "How you have grown! Good Lord, I scarcely recognize you—you are nearly as tall as your father, and just as handsome."
"Halloo, Aunt Olivia," said Max with a self-conscious grin. "It's nice to see you, too."
Her arm still entwined with that of her nephew, she then turned to Allegra. "And you must be Mrs. Proctor. I trust you will forgive my shocking lack of manners, but I so rarely see my baby brother and dear Max that I cannot refrain from embarrassing them with my hugs and kisses." There was a decided twinkle in her eye as she extended her hand. "I am Leo's sister, Olivia. I have heard a great deal about you from Lord Bingham, as well as from Leo's letters and I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance."
Allegra's mouth twitched at the lady's reference to the tall, broad-shouldered earl as her baby brother. The family connection, however, could hardly be missed. Lady Alston had the same arched brows and raven locks as her brother, though hers were more liberally threaded with silver than the earl's. The eyes were perhaps a shade lighter but radiated the same piercing intelligence. Allegra had the feeling that, like her brother's, they missed very little. With a slight swallow of nervousness, she responded to the other lady's greeting.
"That is very kind of you—especially given what His Lordship must have written," she said softly. "I only hope I am not half so troublesome as he says."
Lady Alston gave a delighted laugh. "Oh, I have long since learned that Leo's bark is far worse than his bite."
The earl let out a decided "Hmmph."
"But of course," she continued, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "He is far too much a gentleman to write anything disparaging about a lady. He has only told me what a splendid tutor you have been for Max."
Allegra colored slightly. "I can hardly take credit for any of Max's abilities. Rather it is I who must struggle to keep up with his prodigious intellect." She essayed a slight smile. "Slow wits do not seem to be a Sloane family trait."
Lady Alston regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking again. "This promises to become a most interesting conversation, Mrs. Proctor. But I fear I'm being frightfully remiss in my duties as a hostess. I'm sure you must be thoroughly worn out from your journey and would like to freshen up before supper. Let me show you to your room." With that, she released her nephew's arm and led Allegra towards the stairs. "Leo," she called over her shoulder. "Hawkins has everything in order for you and Max. I shall see you both later."
Allegra had not quite known what to expect on meeting the sister of an earl and wife of a marquess. She couldn't help but imagine someone rather intimidating and cool, so it was with great relief that she found Lady Alston to be as charming as her brother was reserved. In fact, she found herself immediately liking the other woman. A sly sense of humor was already quite evident, and despite the light tone, something about her manner left little doubt as to the keenness of her observations.
No, the earl's sister was not at all the type of empty-headed female Allegra had feared meeting.
Thanks to Lady Alston's efforts, supper was a more pleasant meal than any that had been endured during the journey to London. She kept Allegra and Max engrossed with colorful descriptions of all the attractions she meant to show her nephew. Indeed, the lad could soon scarce sit still in his chair as he listened to all of the sights in store for him. She even managed to coax a few smiles from the earl with her pithy comments concerning the latest scandals among the ton. However, his moody silence throughout most of the meal drew a raised eyebrow or two from her, though she forbore to make mention of it.
When the last of the courses were removed, Wrexham lost no time in announcing that he would take his brandy in the library.
"I shall come along with you, Leo," she said, ignoring the frown that flitted over his features. "Max, since I would hope your father has not yet encouraged you to partake in spirits, I shall see you in the morning. I think we can manage a trip to see Lord Elgin's marbles after my modiste finishes taking Mrs. Proctor's measure." She turned to Allegra. "Would you care to join us?"
Allegra shook her head. "That is very kind of you, Lady Alston, but I think I shall retire early tonight. It has been a rather tiring journey. Besides, I am sure you and your brother have much to catch up on and would prefer some time alone. So I shall bid you good night now." Without looking at the earl, she added," Good night, my lord."
Wrexham inclined his head a fraction, then abruptly pushed back his chair and got to his feet.
Allegra's mouth tightened in concern as her eyes followed his retreating form.
"Dear me," murmured Lady Alston as she, too, watched the earl quit the room. "Leo appears to be in a black humor—it is most unlike him. I wonder what has him in such a taking?"
Allegra's lips crooked into a pinched smile. "Oh, you needn't look far for the cause," she answered softly. "I fear he is quite ruing the day I appeared on the steps of Stormaway Hall."
* * *
"You may pour me a sherry while you are there," said Lady Alston as she took a seat on the comfortable sofa that faced the blazing fire. Patting the plump cushion beside her she added, "Then come sit here beside me and let us have a comfortable coze."
Wrexham turned from the sideboard, a mulish expression on his face. "One which, no doubt, will include waxing poetic over Edmund's fanciful plot," he said waspishly. "Really, Olivia, I would have expected more sense from you. This is no childish game—the dangers are all too real."
Her eyes narrowed. "I am well aware of that, Leo. I saw the marks on Max's face, faded though they are. And Edmund mentioned the shot that grazed your hand. But this monster must be stopped before he hurts more innocent people. If you have a better plan, I am quite willing to listen."
"Damnation," he growled as he handed his sister her sherry. "As of yet, I haven't—that is to say, there have been... a number of distractions. But I am sure there is a way I may trap the villain without involving—"
"The ladies?" finished Lady Alston with an arch of her brow. "I don't see why that is such a cause for worry. Mrs. Proctor strikes me as an extremely competent sort of person." Taking Wrexham's silence for a grudging surrender on that point, she continued. "I doubt that either she or I will do anything buffleheaded enough to endanger you."
"Well, she is not some silly widget of a girl, Leo. I imagine she has considered the consequences. She has a right to decide for herself, whether you like it or not."
The earl's expression only darkened at his sister's words and he muttered something under his breath as he took a long sip of his brandy. Further comment was forestalled, however, by a light knock on the door.
Wrexham put his glass down with a thump. "Come in, " he snapped.
Allegra slowly opened the door. "Forgive me for intruding on you," she said hesitantly, her eyes carefully avoiding those of the earl. Wisps of steam curled up from the large cup in her hands, giving off a pungent scent of woody herbs. "I... I saw that your leg is bothering you. The cramped quarters and constant jostling can have done it no good, sir—so I took the liberty of preparing this."
"Oh, Leo!" exclaimed Lady Alston. "With all the bustle of your arrival, I didn't even notice that your old injury was acting up. How frightful of me!"
"Please, Olivia. You know I don't care to have you make a fuss over it," growled the earl.
Allegra put the cup down on the table beside him. "I've left the recipe with the kitchen so that they may fix it in... the future, when you have need of it."
Wrexham looked acutely uncomfortable. "You needn't have gone to such trouble. It's hardly a twinge." As he unconsciously stretched his leg out in front of him, a slight spasm of pain crossed his features, but he made no move to take up the tisane.
"Really, my lord, you are acting as childish as Max did about taking his medicine." A note of exasperation crept into Allegra's voice. "It makes no sense to endure such discomfort if it can be helped, and you know that this helps. In fact, I am going to stand here until you drink it." She couldn't help but turn to Lady Alston. "Is being stubborn as a mule also a trait of Sloane men?"
Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] Page 16