“The last name on the list is Phineas. I can’t believe she did it. If her brother knew he would skin her alive.”
Her giggle pulled him from his contemplations, although a scowl replaced his smile. Had Phin asked to be listed and then feigned a ready show against the idea? Was the thought irrational? Several unsettling questions rose to mind and a suspicious consideration of whether he needed to talk to Julia, Phineas, or both, eroded his better judgement and caused him to wonder of his friends’ intent.
Chapter Fourteen
Alexandra rose from her bed and donned a white lace wrapper, tying it with the satin ribbon before finding her slippers. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t sleep. No sooner did she close her eyes than an image of her dark, dangerous duke filtered into view.
Tonight, he’d behaved so differently, playful, clever and irresistible. As they advanced through the list of husband candidates, he’d dropped his guard. It was the first time he seemed comfortable around her.
And when he assisted with her golf stroke. A rush of warmth settled in the depth of her stomach. Every time she recalled his whispered instructions beside her ear, his firm hands atop her fingers, and his body nestled against her, she lost all coherent thought. A secret remembrance of his husky whisper caused pinpricks of excitement to dot her skin. How would it feel for him to whisper different instructions as his hands guided hers in ways of passion, his strong body crushed against her as they fell to the bed?
Alarmed by the path of her imagination, Alexandra picked up her brush and moved it with purpose through her hair. What was she thinking? He served as her guardian, not an instructor in sensual desire. He would see her married as soon as she expressed her intentions and then, he would continue to live his carefree life in the same fashion as before Aunt Min passed away.
Aunt Min. How wise of the older woman to insist Alexandra learn the game of golf. If not, she would never have experienced the warm imprint of Devlin’s body behind her own.
Foolish thought. She shook her head in reprimand and glanced at Henry asleep in his little bed of blankets. Perhaps a book could banish the decadent and indecent images of Devlin from her mind. The Fenhurst ball approached and unless she spent a few hours asleep, the dark smudges under her eyes would match the midnight blue of her chosen gown.
On slippered feet, Alexandra slipped from her rooms and tiptoed down the hallway, turning into the main foyer. She descended the stairs and paused when she spotted Reeston lighting a small candelabra in the foyer. He gave his attention to the silver salver next, littered with an abundance of invitations and correspondence, gathering them together in a neat, tidy pile.
“What are you doing?” The question escaped before she thought the better of it. From where she stood on the bottom step, she could see the envelopes remained unopened, their wax seals perfectly formed.
“Lady Alexandra, I did not know you were up and about. It is rather late, is it not?” Both participants glanced to the mahogany grandfather clock as stoic as Reeston in the front foyer.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Her gaze shifted to the pile of ivory envelopes clasped tightly in the butler’s grasp. “I thought to choose a book from the library.” But then, too curious to let the subject drop, “Isn’t it late to be sorting correspondence?”
Reeston’s expression never wavered. “I was not sorting, milady, but discarding.”
He didn’t offer more and etiquette dictated she allow the matter to drop, but it was late, and she couldn’t sleep, and so much remained a mystery in her odd new residence.
“But they are unopened. Doesn’t His Grace wish to read them?” Her voice rose higher in question.
Reeston tightened his hold on the bundle as if concerned she would pluck something from the pile.
“I’ve removed anything of importance, milady. These are invitations and social calls. His Grace does not mix with society.”
Convinced he offered a logical reply, Reeston turned to leave the foyer, the pile secured in his grasp, but the inconceivable notion that Devlin rarely left the house caused Alexandra to stay him with a hand on his sleeve.
“I don’t understand. If he receives so many invitations, his company must be desired by the ton?” If her persistence struck him as invidious, he did not indicate.
“Perhaps it is desired for the wrong reasons.” Reeston donned a tolerant expression and fell silent, not apt to offer more in way of explanation.
Cook always reacted in the same manner to her questioning. Her impatience could not be faulted. “But surely that can’t be true. In two days we will attend the Fenhurst social. Lady Fenhurst planned a small gathering, but from what I understand, there will be a large crush.” Her brow furrowed in consternation as she implored him to offer the sparsest scrap. “Please, Reeston.”
He hesitated for several loud ticks of the grandfather clock before he exhaled with the same dignity he employed in all his actions. “It will cost him much to attend.” He cleared his throat, a tad discomfited. “But His Grace has made an exception on your behalf.”
The odd explanation did little to appease her curiosity. She opened her mouth to continue, but lost the notion, forestalled by Reeston’s pointed stare.
“Perhaps you might discuss this matter with His Grace directly.”
And there it was, she’d overstepped her bounds and made Reeston uncomfortable.
She offered him a sheepish grin. “I apologize. I never meant to put you in a difficult position. Perhaps I will get that book now. I don’t suppose …”
Her voice trailed off in hope he would supply the answer she sought.
“His Grace is not in house at the moment. He planned to move King into the stables and allow Henry a bit of peace. It is likely once there, he decided to take Orion for a ride.”
She whipped her head around, a wave of blond hair falling over her shoulders with the motion. “A ride? It’s black as pitch outside and nearing midnight.”
Again they glanced to the clock as it marked time in the silent hall, but Reeston did little more than confirm her statement.
“That is true, milady.” Then, perhaps he noted her continued distress. “Orion knows his master’s habits well and His Grace is an excellent horseman. His Grace enjoys rigorous exercise and is often only free to pursue such at a late hour after his ducal responsibilities are met during the day.”
Alexandra considered the explanation. Devlin didn’t look busy with affairs of state. But then, who was she to say? She had resided at Kenley Manor only a short time.
“Thank you. I hope that was not too painful.” His demeanour softened and his mouth showed the slightest of smiles. She squeezed his sleeve in a gentle touch and proceeded down the hall to the library.
Candles illuminated the room and a fire blazed in the grate. The bookshelves lining the walls offered an abundance of literature in every subject. She selected a book of sonnets and tucked it into the pocket of her wrapper. Reluctant to return to the seclusion of her bedchamber, her eyes skimmed over the furniture, noting the masculine décor until they came to rest on Devlin’s waistcoat flung haphazardly over the chair to his desk. She hesitated, then strolled to his desk. A ripple of trepidation skittered through her, chased by a sound chastisement. It was merely a piece of clothing, nothing more, yet she hemmed her bottom lip with indecision as she gathered the waistcoat from the chair and held it against her heart. Later when she returned to her bedchamber and reflected on the foolish action, she would laugh at her timidity. But truly, as she held the garment close, overwhelming emotion flooded her, and her heart pounded a heavy rhythm.
The black waistcoat was a representation of the man who wore it well. Impeccably, really. His broad shoulders filled it to perfection, the strong chest that narrowed to a trim waist. She pulled the coat close to her cheek and closed her eyes as she inhaled his masculine scent. Spicy, male and undeniably invigorating. She’d noticed it all too much when his body shadowed hers during the golf lesson. The reaction of her body held
against his strength flittered elusively beyond her understanding. When he aligned against her, every pinnacle of her being awakened and her senses sharpened with an acuity she’d never experienced.
Now her body reacted with enthusiasm, her breathing shallowed and warmth flooded her core as unsatisfied yearning bloomed. The fire popped and forced her from the sensual fantasy. Any moment a servant could pass the door and see her fondling His Grace’s waistcoat. In a motion born of embarrassment and panic, she replaced it in a careless toss and hoped it appeared as she’d found it. One side of the coat slid open to reveal the inner breast pocket and she remembered the slip of paper he’d palmed. The handsome devil, quicker than she, wished to recant his words. The notion fuelled her curiosity. What had he written? The words had befuddled Julia into silence.
Did she dare? Her fingers brushed the smooth satin lining and a shiver of anticipation prodded her to bite her lip. She slipped her hand into the pocket while her heart beat a wild tattoo. Somehow the act seemed intimate, as if she crossed some line of propriety or formed an invisible bond between them.
Her fingers brushed the edges of the paper and she withdrew the slip, although something else lay hidden in the pocket impeding her progress. Having thrown caution to the wind on a reckless exhale, she dipped her fingers further into Devlin’s pocket and withdrew the item in question, opening her hand to reveal her blue velvet hair ribbon. She’d assumed that Henry had absconded with it when the ribbon went missing. How she’d chastised the poor pup. A grin broke loose across her face and her traitorous heart skipped a beat. With both note and ribbon secreted in her firm grasp, she rushed to the stairs, her actions as flurried as the questions that spun frenzied through her mind. She breached all manner of etiquette with her midnight excursion and she knew not what to make of her discovery. Still she remained positive it indicated something good.
It was half past two the following day when Phineas and Julia arrived. A dreary rain-misted morning had evolved into a brighter afternoon. Alexandra and Devlin remained in the salon and the friendly visit brought a welcomed interruption to the vexing subject of securing Lexi an appropriate chaperone, as the problem weighed down the day more than the earlier weather.
“Can you think of anyone amendable to the idea?” Devlin posed his question to Phineas once they were seated. He’d exhausted every resource known with the last of the appointments scheduled within the hour.
“I will ask my mother again, Dev. She may be able to influence an old friend.” Phin shrugged his shoulders in a frustrated motion as if reflecting on the unspoken explanation that hung in the air.
Few people would extend a favour to a man with his reputation, never mind come under his employ and dwell in his home. The situation presented a perplexing quandary. Propriety might dictate the etiquette all were meant to follow, but there were no allowances within the rules for the ton’s prejudiced beliefs or jaundiced eye. Devlin knew this all too well, but without dredging up the ugly past, he ascertained Lexi was confused by his difficulty to provide her a proper companion.
“It will ruin your reputation if you continue to live here without a chaperone, so we’ll have to find you someone as quickly as possible.”
Julia stated the obvious with a bit too much drama. He glanced in her direction and considered the dire tone in which she presented the situation. Was he the only one who considered how hellish it would be to have some old windbag doddering around the estate?
“With hope, these afternoon appointments will prove successful.” Devlin withdrew his pocket watch and checked the time. “As a matter of fact, I should prepare for the candidates right now.” Sarcasm tinged each word. “Do you mind if I take my leave?”
The question was posed to all of them, but he eyed Lexi and waited for her reply alone.
“Of course not. I need to take Henry out for a little fresh air. I’ve always believed one should never waste a sunny afternoon.”
She smiled at him, and her eyes sparkled. Damn, he was reluctant to walk out of the room. He’d much prefer to remain in her entrancing company, and curse the responsibility of the task to be done.
“Then if you will excuse me.”
Julia’s voice filled the silence as he left the room. She launched into a detailed description of the upcoming social and he heard Lexi’s cheerful reply. Their friendship proved beneficial and at least one problem appeared solved.
Chapter Fifteen
Alexandra smiled in anticipation, her nerves at war with her desire to appear demure. She chided that she would be among friends, but as they neared Fenhurst Manor, her emotions remained muddled. In Brentwood, she’d attended her share of parties with Aunt Min, and experienced a taste of the ton, but tonight would be her first expedition into the aristocratic order of things and from everything Julia boasted in their time spent together, high society sounded auspicious at best and judicious at its worst.
At least her appearance posed no concern. Tillie had arranged Alexandra’s hair in an upward sweep of waves and ringlets that made her feel older and more sophisticated. Her gown fit to perfection. Midnight-blue silk wrapped in a daring tight swath around her bodice, the neckline dipped low enough for a flirtation but by no means scandalous, the back lined with tiny pearl buttons that sloped to the graceful fall of her skirt. Tillie never paused for a breath in her complimentary chatter and while Alexandra did feel pretty, it was the confidence she needed on this very night.
Devlin noticed as well. When she descended the stairs and entered the foyer where he waited, her breath caught. The swish of her skirts drew his attention and he glanced up from the bottom step. Lord, he looked handsome. Dressed in black as always, he donned a stark white cravat for the formality of the evening. The contrast of his neck cloth against the line of his beard caused her heart to somersault and her hands to tremble. As always he filled his clothes perfectly, the flawless form of his body outlined from head to the toe of his glossy black hessians. She finished the last steps and he extended his hand. With great effort she recalled he served as her guardian, not her escort.
Their eyes met and held.
Devlin surprised her then and released her hand to offer a small box, the outside containing no clues. She opened it with trembling fingers. Inside, a fine gold chain with a teardrop diamond pendant nestled in the velvet cloth. He refused to accept anything more than a simple thank-you as he’d turned her, clasped the necklace around her neck, and admired the image she presented. He stated it was for good luck and told her she looked enchanting. A smile bloomed across her face with the remembrance; the compliment one of the items he’d written on the list she’d stolen the night before.
She raised her fingers to the pendant now and met his eyes, unable to contain her excitement. “Thank you. It is the loveliest gift I’ve ever received.”
“It pales in comparison to you, Lexi. I’m sure you will be the talk of the evening.”
She couldn’t know, on a silent curse, he hoped she would not be the talk of the ton for different reasons. Instead she noticed his expression shift, although his eyes revealed nothing, as always his emotions tucked away. He was a mystery, a secret she could not discover, and Alexandra wondered for the umpteenth time what he hid beneath the layers of indifference that he wore as well as his expensive, hand-tailored coat.
When they arrived, she still deliberated her thoughts. Without so much as a parting word, Devlin delivered her to Julia and excused himself. She panicked for a moment, only a moment, as her friend retrieved champagne and thrust a dance card into her gloved hand.
She reviewed the little embossed paper and startled to discover all the slots were filled. She was not so much country grown that she didn’t understand propriety, yet the dances were hers to accept. Instead, her well-meaning friend arranged the dance order without her choice in the matter.
Reality rankled her calm reserve. The evening before, while she lay in bed considering Devlin’s list and her ribbon, she vowed to entice him to share one dance. She
knew he would be reluctant, but equally hard pressed to decline a challenge. A smart tactic. Now the opportunity seemed bleak, her dance card filled with every name from the bachelor list.
Julia sipped at her glass of champagne and her enthusiasm sparkled in kind.
“Every gentleman I invited is here tonight. Isn’t that grand?”
Unwilling to deflate Julia’s excitement and mention her own disappointment, Alexandra reassured herself the evening could be salvaged if she located her guardian. Where was Devlin anyway?
She scanned the crowd and spotted him partially hidden in one of the more remote corners of the ballroom. Phineas stood at his side and they appeared engrossed in a serious discussion. She noted several guests turned in his direction with regularity. The action struck her as odd. True, he rarely attended social functions, but the proposed guest list included only the family’s intimate friends. Perhaps more invitations had been added as the ballroom overflowed to a full crush.
Julia nudged her arm and forced her attention to the present.
“The orchestra will begin soon and we shall dance the night away. What a splendid evening. Have you been introduced to my parents yet? I told them all about you and they can’t wait to meet you.” Julia scanned the crowd and gasped in dismay. “Oh dear, my mother has been cornered by Lady Lockton. That can only come to no good. Lady Lockton is set on matching her widgeon of a daughter with Phineas. I must intercede. I will return.” Her words faded as she melted into the crowd.
Left alone, Alexandra angled her head in search of Devlin where she’d noticed him earlier. Far too many people obstructed her view. The scowl on his face as he spoke to Phineas contradicted the merriment that surrounded him and caused her concern. She would seek him out.
She did not get very far and stalled near the refreshment table aside two elderly women engrossed in conversation. They stood so closely confined by guests on every side Alexandra could smell the overbearing lilac perfume of the woman at her right.
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