“Any social event ... there's a difference.”
Perhaps she was right, however he could not admit that to her. Indeed, he could not admit any of his true feelings to her. He set the ornament back on the mantle, then faced her. “You twist my words.”
In one fluid motion, Alicia stood. “This has gone far enough. I've followed your rules. You stressed events of a social nature and, guess what? I've complied.”
She folded her arms against her enticing breasts. “As to why I was there yesterday, it's no secret—I do have an interest in archaeology. I was curious to hear your speech."
Now she whipped her hands through the air, punctuating her sentences. “That's it—no hidden rendezvous, no ulterior motives. Quite frankly, Richard, I'm fed up with the way you've been treating me. I can't go anywhere, I can't do anything I want to do. For heaven's sake, I can't even talk with people without a time limit!” Silencing her hands, she also dropped her voice. “I've ... I've had enough.”
“What do you mean?” He did not like the sound of those words.
Her agitation was visible by the rise and fall of her bosom. She avoided his gaze. “I've decided to return to Saybrooke Hall. I would like to stay here one more month to hear Mr. Boggs’ presentation. However, if you have a problem with that, I'll leave immediately.”
His wife's counterattack caught Richard off guard. She was right, so right in everything she said. Blast, he truly was the biggest ass in the world. He sat down at the very edge of a chair. Lord help him but he did not want her to leave. After all his invectives against Alicia and her behavior, he did not want her to go.
Running his hand through his hair, he exhaled slowly. “This is a surprise, Alicia. What about Mother? She still is not herself yet.”
“Oh, please, I can't believe she will fall into a decline, missing my daily ten minute visits.” The irony in Alicia's voice was unmistakable.
He glanced around the room for inspiration. “And what about Terrence? He adores his mother.”
Alicia skewed her lips. “Richard, get real. What happened to my not being an ‘appropriate example’ for him? Next, you'll be telling me to stay for the good of our marriage. Now, that's a laugh.” She choked on her last word.
She fiddled with the material around her wrists again—most likely in defiance.
Suddenly Richard understood. “I see. You are anxious to resume your wanton ways at the Hall. You will be freer there from my censure.”
His wife laughed but it had a bitter quality to it. “God, yes! The pickings are too slim in London. How astute of you to realize. I find country men so much more ... virile.”
Rage built up inside him, bubbling over like a witch's cauldron.
Alicia quickly made her way to the door. “I never thought you could be so blind ... or so stupid.”
But he was faster and barred her exit. “More virile?” he thundered. “How do you find this?”
He pressed her against the door, imprisoning her in a fevered embrace. With his lips burning hot, he cruelly took possession of her mouth. He was mad with jealousy, mad with desire, mad with years of submerged longing for her.
She did not resist him. Indeed, he would not have allowed it. Tasting her infinitely sweet lips, he darted his tongue deep into her mouth. This was better, so much better than he remembered. In fact, kissing her was somehow different....
Without conscious thought, his hands explored her sensuous curves, unfairly hidden by the cloth of her dress. The smooth skin on her back, her slim hips, her rounded bottom—cherished treasures to a man who was finally coming home.
Instead of pushing him away, her arms wound around him, gripping him tightly. Her fingers became entangled in his hair. She moaned with undisguised pleasure.
By the good Lord above, she was aroused—passionately aroused!
But still, the feeling that something was different persisted. Breaking contact with those delicious lips, Richard stared into her eyes. Her eyes were moist with the promise of fulfillment. But it was not Alicia gazing back at him; it was a stranger. A complete and utter stranger.
This woman was not his wife!
A full second, or perhaps a moment in eternity passed. Although the woman's lips were bruised and swollen, she smiled seductively at him. “Don't stop now,” she almost purred.
He closed his eyes, reeling from her ardent desire and from the realization she was not Alicia. By all that was holy, he needed time to think. Self-preservation overtook his other emotions. To lose his heart to a stranger! Who the devil was she?
Stepping away from her was like closing the door to paradise. Every inch of his body physically hurt. He gazed one last time into her liquid eyes, then bowed. “Madam."
To her surprise, as well as his own, he retreated from the Blue Salon as if the hounds from hell were nipping at his heels.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Of course, staying another month in London now was blatantly impossible. Alaina flounced around the bedroom only half dressed. After what had happened in the Blue Salon yesterday, how could she remain in Richard's house one minute more? How could she hold a polite conversation with him and not reveal the desire in her eyes?
Sinking down on the bed, she wallowed in self-despair. Why had he pushed her away like that? Did her kisses disgust him? Had she shown too much passion? Oh, she died a thousand deaths when he actually walked away from her.
She touched her lips, still vibrating from the feel of his. In no way, shape, or form were his kisses disgusting. They had seared into her inner being, rocking her body and exploding her every nerve ending. Her limbs had threatened to collapse while every part of her mind cried out for more. That was how she had imagined kissing Richard Cransworth would be. That was what she longed for—an overwhelming desire, a gigantic craving that so often kept her up at night.
But, well, that was not to be. He'd made his revulsion of her perfectly clear. And besides, she made up her mind. Before lunch, she would inform Lady Wilhelmina of her decision. And Richard. But she had to practice what she would say to him because right now she was a tongue-tied mess. How could she not be with those memories of burning kisses haunting her very soul?
Too bad she'd have to miss Ian Boggs’ lecture, but she really had no choice. She'd pack today and be gone tomorrow.
Dana sailed into the room oblivious to Alaina's unhappiness. “Such goings on, this mornin', Milady!” She reached up to button the tiny fastenings on Alaina's gown.
“What's happened, Dana?” Hard to fake interest when one's heart was breaking.
“'Tis about young Mr. Ellis.” Dana smoothed the wrinkles from Alaina's dress. “Such a pity. We all do hope he will be able to find employment on such short notice.”
Alaina swirled around to face her maid. “Lord Saybrooke's secretary has been let go?”
“Yes, Milady. And Mr. Ellis said himself he did not know why. He has been servin’ the master come nigh on six years.”
Oh, good God. Alaina knew why. And she couldn't let an innocent man pay the price for her folly. She'd have to ‘fess up to her crime: the presentation paper caper.
Two steadying breaths later, she said, “Pull my hair straight back into a bun, Dana. I don't want any curls around my face today.”
“But Milady, that will look too severe.”
Alaina grimly agreed. “That's the idea.”
But when she went downstairs, Higgins the butler, informed her that His Lordship had gone out for a ride after breakfast.
Drat. She'd psyched herself up for the confrontation but now had to wait.
“Okay, Higgins, would you please then steer the Earl into the Library when he returns? I have important business to discuss."
Being impassive must have been part of a butler's job description. And Higgins had that part of his job down pat. Bowing, he said, “I will convey Her Ladyship's wishes to His Lordship as soon as he returns."
“Thank you, Higgins.” Entering the Library, Alaina prepared herself to wait.
>
~*~
On hearing the news that Her Ladyship required a word with him, Richard lifted an eyebrow. Here was a ticklish situation. The woman was pretending to be his wife, which meant he, of course, was her husband. And husbands had certain rights.
He smiled. One day, in the not too distant future, he would insist on exercising those rights.
Opening the Library door, he found her huddled in a comfortable arm chair, her back facing the bust of Augustus Caesar. “Forgive my riding clothes. I decided to forgo changing since I understand you wish to speak to me on a matter of some importance?”
Sitting in her direct line of vision, he crossed his legs and took in her plain appearance. Hair pulled back, prim and proper gown, she also had a grim line to her luscious, soft mouth.
She did not return his look. Evidently she did not intend to allude to last night's misadventure. Neither would he. It was deuced awkward.
Tightly clasping her hands together, she began, “There's something I need to clear up with you. I was informed Mr. Ellis has been let go. May I ask why?”
Richard was taken by surprise, not expecting the “important matter” to be about his secretary. Vividly recalling yesterday's events, he studied the woman carefully and marveled at how her cool exterior hid a passionate spitfire. A yearning for her stirred deep within him.
Since the revelation came to him yesterday that this woman was a stranger, he spent most of the night taking stock of the similarities and differences. The similarities were all in appearance. But now, looking at her with a critical eye, he could note discrepancies as well. He was uncertain what this meant. More study and observation were required. He licked his lips. Much more study.
“Why the interest in Ellis? I was not aware that you knew his name. Even after his six years with me.” Richard leaned forward, placing his elbow on his knee and stroked his chin. “If I may make a suggestion, Alicia. You should not wear your hair pulled back so tightly. It makes you look older than your seven and twenty years.”
Blushing, she still evaded his gaze. “I'll try to remember that. Will you answer my question?”
That she could blush at his words was very gratifying indeed. However why was the Ellis matter so important to her? “The impudent coxcomb revised my presentation paper without my knowledge. And he had the audacity to include information that I did not write.”
“Wasn't your lecture very well received?”
“Yes, but—”
“Has he ever acted impudently or audaciously in the past?”
“No, but—”
“Then how do you know that Mr. Ellis was the one who altered your work? And what difference does it make since the reading was a success?”
Truly, this woman was outside of enough. Rather miffed, Richard left his chair and gestured with his hands. “The point at issue here is that he does not have the right to change my work—not to this degree, at any rate. He did deny knowledge of the affair but who else could have done it?”
He leaned against the massive desk. Why the devil were they arguing over such a trivial subject?
“Mr. Ellis isn't responsible.” She looked down at her clenched hands. Did she think they would give her inspiration? “I am.” Her voice was barely audible.
Richard inadvertently let out a startled, “What?”
“I am responsible,” she repeated. She explained about seeing his note and getting the idea to edit the manuscript. “It gave me something to do. It's been boring here, with lots of time on my hands. And, well, your research was very interesting but it needed polish.”
Richard took a deep breath, preparing to go into a tirade. Alicia, with no thoughts deeper than which man to flirt with next? Alicia revising his fieldwork? The idea was laughable. Alicia never could have turned out that excellent piece of work. Alicia never could have....
A sudden thought occurred to him. Alicia never could have. But what about the stranger? Could a woman have edited his research so professionally? Surely not, unless this stranger was an exceptional bluestocking.
There was a more probable possibility. She could be covering up for someone else.
Holding his pride in check, he responded with calm. “So, you read my work and decided to improve upon it. Why is it you neglected to inform me?”
She looked up at him, obviously thinking that he believed her. Her eyes were clear and shiny, reminding him so much of yesterday's foray into forbidden pleasures.
“Well, I guess it's because you're so fierce about things, and I knew you would've said no, anyway. I was wrong. I'm sorry. I suppose boredom overruled my better judgment.” She sighed. “So you see, I can't permit Mr. Ellis to take the blame for what I did. I'm asking you to reinstate him at his job.”
She contemplated her fingers again. “You can think of another punishment for me or you can ... let me go.”
Her words brought a chill to his frame. “Let you go?” he repeated for clarification. Of a certainty, he did not like the way her mind was working.
Who was this exceptional woman? And why did she look almost exactly like Alicia? Was it possible that a by-blow of Alicia's father, the Duke of Blakesdale, had changed places with his wife? Knowing the Duke's devotion to his duchess, it seemed unlikely.
Improbable, but a solution to consider. Let me go. Those words had an awful ring. He did not want to let the woman go. By all that was holy, he would get to the bottom of this mystery. And, he had to admit, he was eagerly looking forward to fulfilling his duties as husband.
She must have seen his air of distraction. “You know, let me go as in terminate me from my job. You're obviously not pleased with my performance as your wife. We should go our separate ways. Maybe we should divorce."
Richard drummed his fingers to an internal beat. Was divorce something the impostor wanted? Was she acting on Alicia's behalf?
“Do you want this, Madam?"
“Want?” A catch in her throat told him all he needed to know. “Let's be realistic, Richard. Divorce might be the best course for both of us. God knows we've been at each other's throats since ... since forever."
Her distress galvanized him into action. If there was one item he learned about this stranger, it was that she would not hesitate to follow through with her words. He could not let her escape until he solved this mystery. Perhaps he would decide to never let her escape.
He strolled over to her chair and gently lifted her up to her feet. “No divorce, no separation.” As he spoke, he slowly removed her hairpins. “I think it best for you to remain in London, with the family. From now on, you will be allowed to do whatever you want. Within the limits of discretion, of course.”
The last hairpin removed, he freed her bouncing hair from the restricting bun. He took great pleasure in arranging her hair on her shoulders. “There, that is better. That is more like the Alicia I am familiar with.”
Wide-eyed, she stared at him—warily, of course.
Withholding a smile, he murmured, “I had no idea my wife was such an intellectual.”
Again, she stood mutely.
He enjoyed her confusion immensely. “As that is settled, I must change for a luncheon engagement. Your servant, Madam."
Richard could not resist patting the top of her head before leaving. He had certainly given her something to think about!
~*~
Whatever caused Richard's abrupt turnaround, Alaina didn't know, but she decided to take advantage of it. Nigel had pressed her again to attend a concert at Vauxhall Gardens and this time she accepted. But on their way to the famous pleasure-gardens, she felt a twinge of alarm. Maybe it was because he kept inching closer to her in the enclosed carriage. Or maybe it was his puppy dog expression.
In any event, she asked him who would be joining them.
“It's just us,” he replied. “The others cried off. You don't mind, do you, Alicia?”
“Oh, of course not,” she lied. All she needed was another episode similar to the one with Charlie. Especially now that
Richard ... well, Richard was proving to be quite charming.
She sighed. While Vauxhall Gardens were a popular entertainment spot, the Gardens also had the reputation of providing spacious grounds and numerous paths where lovers could conduct their trysts. A modern-day Lovers’ Lane.
“I'll show you the sights, Alicia. The orchestras are smashing. Later, we can take a stroll down by the Thames. Tonight we'll see fireworks too. You will have a good time,” Nigel said confidently. “You have been kept a recluse for too long.” He ran his fingers through his thick hair, a gesture so like Richard.
“And this Saturday, there will be a balloon putting up at either Vauxhall or Green Park,” he continued. “We can attend together. Have you ever seen an ascent?”
“No, that sounds like fun. I bet Terry would also enjoy it.” It was obvious Nigel hadn't planned to make the outing a threesome.
But he gamely agreed. “If that makes you happy, Alicia, it makes me happy.”
Not long after they crossed over Westminster Bridge, they then arrived at Vauxhall Gardens. Nigel paid the admission, and soon they walked alongside the tall trees and bright globe lights. And what a sight it was. All classes of society mixed equally at this place of amusement. Along with members of the high society were shop boys and scullery maids. Even prostitutes soliciting business!
“You must stay close to me,” Nigel cautioned her. “Pickpockets are always on the lookout for victims."
They sat at a vacant booth and listened to the strands of music wafting soothingly through the air. A warm April night, the star-filled sky held none of the coolness she would have expected for this time of year in London.
Alaina sipped on her Vauxhall punch, taking in the pleasure-seekers around them. A romantic atmosphere, to be sure. So why was she here with Nigel?
Her companion fumbled at the knot in his cravat, trying to straighten it. He had told her earlier that its intricate design was entitled “Trone d'Amour.” Nigel had spent days learning to master the many folds. When he said he wore it tonight in honor of her, she had flushed.
Clearing his throat, Nigel began, “I am glad you decided to accompany me, Alicia. You have been kept a virtual prisoner at the house. I don't know what is wrong with Richard. He does not appreciate you the way he should.” Nigel's gaze appreciatively swept her figure.
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