He was surprised by the question. “Because it was my problem to solve, not yours.”
He looked like he believed what he’d just told her. Alesandra didn’t know how to respond to that arrogant belief. “But how did you know? What made you suspicious?”
“The latch on one of the windows was unlocked an hour after Raymond had checked,” he explained. “And someone had to alert the men that we would be attending the opera.”
“The prince regent could have mentioned it to . . .”
Colin cut her off. “Yes, he could have,” he agreed. “But he wouldn’t have unlocked the window.”
“Did you catch all of them?” Henry asked the director then.
“Yes, we did,” Richards answered. “They’re safely tucked away.”
“I’ll talk to them first thing tomorrow,” Colin announced.
“May I go with you?” Alesandra asked.
“Not.”
Colin’s voice suggested she not argue. His father supported his son’s decision, too. “It’s out of the question, Alesandra.”
The discussion was over. Sir Richards took his leave a few minutes later. Colin accompanied the director to the door. Jade and Caine said their farewells at the same time. Both the duke and duchess walked to the door with them. Alesandra stood by the hearth, watching the way the family members talked and laughed with one another, and the sudden yearning to be a part of the loving, close-knit family fairly overwhelmed her. She shook her head against the possibility. Colin wasn’t marrying her because he loved her. She mustn’t forget that, she told herself.
The door closed behind Jade and Caine, and she realized then that Colin had already taken his leave.
He hadn’t even bothered to say good-bye. Alesandra was so hurt by his rudeness, she turned around to stare at the mantel so her guardian wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes.
Dignity and decorum, she silently chanted to herself. She would get through the wedding with her cloak of serenity tightly wrapped around her. If Colin was determined to be stupidly noble, then so be it.
The castle caught her attention and the anger she was trying to stir up over Colin’s high-handed methods in gaining her agreement was all but forgotten. A wave of homesickness for her mother and father made her ache inside.
Dear God, she was miserable. She never should have left the convent—she realized that mistake now. She’d been safe there, and the memories of her mother were somehow far more comforting.
Alesandra took a deep breath in an attempt to stop the panic she could feel catching hold. She understood why she was so afraid. God help her, she was falling in love with the Dragon.
It was unacceptable to her. Colin would never know how she felt about him. She wasn’t about to end up like a vine of ivy clinging to a man who didn’t love her. She wouldn’t hover, either, no matter how much she wanted to, and she would force herself to think of the marriage as nothing but an arrangement. Colin had his reasons for marrying her, foolish though they were, and in return for his name and protection she would leave him to his own agenda. She wouldn’t interfere in any way with his schedule, and in return for her consideration he would leave her alone to follow her own destiny.
Alesandra mopped the tears from her eyes. She was feeling better now that she’d come up with a viable plan of action. She would request an audience with Colin tomorrow and tell him how she had worked it all out in her mind.
She would even allow for negotiating, but only on minor points, of course.
“Alesandra, your guards will bring your things over in just a little while.”
Her guardian made that announcement as he walked back into the salon. She turned to thank him. Uncle Henry frowned when he saw the tears in her eyes.
“What’s this?” he demanded. “Are you so unhappy over my choice for your husband that you . . .”
She shook her head. “I was looking at the castle and it made me a bit homesick.”
He looked relieved. He walked over to stand next to her. “I believe I’ll take that back to our country house. I don’t like seeing it touched. Colin and Caine couldn’t keep their hands off it, could they?” he added with a grin. “They can both be like bulls in a pen at times. I wouldn’t want this treasure broken.”
He turned to look at the miniature. “Do you know the story behind this gift?” he asked.
“My mother told me Father gave it to you,” Alesandra answered.
“The castle was a gift,” Uncle Henry explained. “But I was asking you if you’d been told about the loan your father gave me? You have every right to hear it, and to know how your father came to my aid.”
His voice had gotten gruff with emotion. Alesandra shook her head. “It wasn’t a loan, Uncle, and, yes, I did know what happened. Mother told me the story because she thought it clever and amusing the way he tricked you.”
“Nathaniel tricked me? How?”
Alesandra turned and lifted the castle from the mantel, nodding when her guardian instinctively warned her to be careful. While he watched, she pried the drawbridge away from the latch, then handed the castle to him.
“They’ve been inside all the while,” she explained, her voice a gentle whisper. “Have a look, Uncle Henry. The notes are there.”
He couldn’t seem to comprehend what she was telling him. He stared at her with a look of astonishment on his face.
“All these years . . .” His voice cracked with tension and his eyes turned quite misty.
“Father liked to get his way,” Alesandra explained. “He insisted it was a gift and you insisted it was a loan. Mother told me you demanded notes be signed and father accommodated you. But he had the last laugh, Uncle, when he gave you the castle as a gift.”
“With the notes.”
She put her hand on his arm. “You hold the notes,” she said. “And you must therefore accept that the debt has been repaid.”
Her guardian held the castle up and looked inside. He spotted the folded pieces of paper immediately. “The debt will be repaid when you marry my son,” he said.
He didn’t have any idea how his words affected her. His attention was on the castle now, and he therefore missed the look on her face.
She turned around and walked out of the salon. She passed Aunt Gweneth in the foyer but didn’t trust her voice enough to speak.
Gweneth hurried into the salon just as Alesandra ran up the steps. “Henry, what did you say to that child?” she demanded.
Henry motioned her over to his side. “Alesandra’s fine, Gweneth. She’s just feeling a little homesick, that’s all. Let her have a few minutes alone. Look at this,” he ordered then, his concentration turned back to the notes hidden inside the treasure.
Alesandra was forgotten for the moment. She was thankful no one followed her up the stairs. She went into her uncle Henry’s study, closed the door behind her, and promptly burst into tears. She cried for at least twenty minutes and all because she was feeling so horribly sorry for herself. She knew she was being childish—pitiful, too—but she didn’t care.
She didn’t feel any better when she’d finished weeping. Her nerves were still frazzled with worry and confusion.
Dreyson arrived on the doorstep an hour later. She signed the papers he’d prepared and then listened to his long explanation regarding the transfer of her funds from her father’s homeland to the Bank of England. The agent Dreyson had hired to make the transaction was having difficulty getting the money released, but Dreyson assured her it wasn’t anything to worry about. It would just take time and patience.
Alesandra could barely concentrate on financial matters. She went to bed early that night and prayed for strength to get through the next three days.
Time didn’t drag, however. Aunt Gweneth kept her busy with the preparations for the wedding. Unbeknownst to her husband or her family, Gweneth invited a few close friends to join in the celebration—thirty-eight, in fact—and there was so much to be done before the wedding she could barely keep up with her lists of duties. T
here were fresh flowers to be ordered for the tables inside, food to be prepared for the formal sit-down dinner she planned on serving everyone, and a gown to be sewn by the sour-dispositioned but incredibly creative Millicent Norton. The dressmaker and her three assistants had taken over one of the larger rooms on the third floor and were working around the clock with their needles and threads on the yards and yards of imported lace Millicent Norton had been hoarding for just such an occasion.
When Alesandra wasn’t needed for fittings, she worked on the task Gweneth had assigned her—writing out the announcements. There were over two hundred names on her list. The envelopes had to be addressed too, of course, and Gweneth insisted they be ready to be sent out by messenger as soon as Colin and Alesandra were married.
Alesandra didn’t understand the need for all the fuss. She believed only the immediate family, the minister, and Sir Richards would be attending. She asked her aunt why she was going to all the trouble and was told that it was the very least she could do to repay the goodness Alesandra’s father had shown her family.
The day of the wedding finally arrived. The weather proved accommodating, much to Gweneth’s delight. The garden could be used after all. The sun was bright and the temperature quite warm for spring. The guests wouldn’t even need to wear cloaks, the duchess decided. She ordered the French doors opened and put the servants to work sweeping the stones clean.
The ceremony was scheduled for four o’clock in the afternoon. The flowers began arriving at noon. The parade of messengers seemed endless. Alesandra stayed in the dining room and out of everyone’s way. Her Aunt Gweneth had really gone all out, she decided when she saw two huge vases of flowers being carried upstairs. She imagined the library was also going to be decorated. Perhaps Gweneth thought her husband might decide to entertain Sir Richards in the library.
Alesandra was just about to go up to her room to get ready for the ceremony, but she was waylaid from that duty when Colin’s sisters arrived. The youngest, Marian Rose, was only ten years old, and so thrilled to be included in the party she could barely stand still. Marian had been a happy surprise to her parents for, almost four years after their third daughter had been born, they had believed Gweneth’s childbearing years were over. The youngest was doted upon by her parents and her older brothers, of course, but she was kept from being completely spoiled by her sisters. Alison was fourteen years old, Jennifer was fifteen, and Catherine had just turned sixteen.
Alesandra liked all of Colin’s sisters, but her favorite was Catherine. She was careful not to let the others know how she felt, fearing she would cause hurt feelings.
Catherine was such a delight. She was the complete opposite of Alesandra, and perhaps that was the reason she liked her so much. She admitted she envied Colin’s sister. Catherine was outrageously outspoken. One never had to guess what she might be thinking. She told her every thought. She was very dramatic, too, and was constantly getting into mischief with her dearest friend, Lady Michelle Marie. Catherine never worried about restraint. Alesandra doubted she fully understood what dignity and decorum were, and she was the most wonderfully honest person Alesandra had ever known.
She was becoming a very pretty young lady, too. Catherine had dark blond hair and hazel-colored eyes. She was taller than Alesandra by a good two inches.
None of Colin’s sisters had been given the reason why they were being called to London, and when their mother gathered them together and explained about the wedding, Catherine was the first to screech with delight. She threw herself into Alesandra’s arms and hugged her tight.
“Michelle Marie will probably try to kill you for ruining her plans,” she cheerfully informed Alesandra. “She thinks she’s going to marry Colin. She’s planned it for years and years.”
Gweneth shook her head in exasperation. “Colin’s never even met your friend. Why in heaven’s name would she believe he would marry her? She’s your age, Catherine, and Colin’s much too old for her. Why, he’s almost twice her age.”
Alison and Jennifer rushed forward to hug Alesandra, too. All three sisters clung to her and it was all Alesandra could do to keep her balance. They were all talking at once, of course. It was chaotic, and a little overwhelming for Alesandra.
There wasn’t room for Marian Rose. She hung back, but not for long. She stomped her foot in a bid to get attention, and when that didn’t work, she let out a bloodcurdling scream. Everyone immediately turned to see what was wrong, and Marian Rose used that opportunity to hurl herself at Alesandra.
Raymond and Stefan heard the scream and came running. Gweneth apologized for her daughter’s behavior, told Marian Rose to hush, and then put the guards to work carrying up the extra crates of wineglasses from the cellar.
Raymond motioned to Alesandra. She excused herself from Colin’s family and went over to him.
“The duchess keeps opening the French doors, Princess. We keep closing them. It isn’t safe to have the back of the house unlocked. Could you please talk to her? Colin’s going to be furious when he gets here and sees all the doors and windows open.”
“I’ll try to talk to her,” Alesandra promised. “I doubt she’ll listen. I guess we’re going to have to have faith it will all go well. Just a few more hours and the worry will be over.”
Raymond bowed to the princess. He wasn’t about to sit back and hope things would go well. Both he and Stefan were ready to pull their hair out over the number of strangers stomping into the town house with flowers and trays and gifts. It had been almost impossible to keep count of who everyone was. Raymond went into the kitchen. He grabbed hold of a servant and ordered him to take a message to Colin. The duchess wouldn’t listen to a guard, but she would certainly listen to her son.
Raymond didn’t stop there. He went upstairs next to look for the Duke of Williamshire and alert him to the possible danger.
The time got away from Alesandra. Millicent Norton and her assistants came downstairs and waylaid her just as she was about to go up. The dressmaker explained that the wedding gown was hanging in front of the wardrobe in Alesandra’s bedroom and that it was without a doubt the most exquisite dress she’d ever created. Alesandra was in full agreement. She spent a long while complimenting the dressmaker and longer still promising to take every care when she put on the delicate gown.
Gweneth came rushing into the foyer just as Millicent and her assistants left. “Good heavens, Alesandra. It’s already three and you haven’t begun to get ready. Have you had your bath yet?”
“Yes, Aunt.”
“The girls are getting ready now,” Gweneth told her. She took hold of Alesandra’s hand and started up the steps. “Janet will be in to help you just as soon as she finishes braiding Marian Rose’s hair. Is your stomach full of butterflies, Alesandra? I know you must be excited. You mustn’t worry though. Everything’s ready. It’s going to be a beautiful wedding. Hurry now or you’ll miss it.”
The duchess laughed over her own jest. She gave Alesandra’s hand an affectionate squeeze when she reached her bed chamber, then opened the door and went inside. Alesandra could hear Marian Rose begging the maid to let her hair loose and then Gweneth’s command to sit still.
Alesandra’s bedroom was the last along the corridor. She opened the door and went inside. She was in such a hurry now, she didn’t pay attention to anything but getting out of her dress. The buttons were in the front, and she had them undone before she’d even pushed the door shut behind her. She stripped out of her clothes, washed from top to bottom again, and then put on her white cotton robe. She was just securing the belt around her waist when the door opened behind her. Alesandra assumed it was the maid coming in to assist her. She started to turn around, but was suddenly grabbed from behind. A hand clamped down over her mouth to silence the instinctive scream already gathering in her throat.
She heard the sound of the door being bolted and knew then that there were at least two men in the room with her.
It took all of her determination to remain
calm. She forced herself not to struggle. She was terrified inside, but she wasn’t going to let that interfere with her ability to think. She could become hysterical later, after she’d gotten away from the horrible men.
She would have to be patient, she told herself, and wait for her opportunity to get free. She wouldn’t scream, no matter how strong the urge became. Colin’s sisters would come running and, dear God, she didn’t want any of them to get hurt.
Alesandra calmed down as soon as she settled on a plan of action. She would cooperate until she was well away from the town house. It would be safer for the family that way. Then she would fight, scream, and bite, to make them sorry they’d dared to touch her.
A knock sounded at the door. The infidel behind her tightened his hold. He ordered her in a whisper to tell whoever it was begging entrance to go away.
She nodded agreement before he removed his hand from her mouth. The second man unbolted the door. Alesandra got a good look at his face. He was a dark-haired man with heavy eyebrows and oily skin. The sinister expression on his face made her shiver with fear. From the look of him, she knew he wouldn’t suffer any remorse about hurting anyone.
The man behind her waved a knife in front of her face and told her that if she called out a warning he would kill her.
She wasn’t worried about that possibility, for she knew he was bluffing. The general needed a live bride, not a dead one. She thought about telling the horrid man she wasn’t afraid about her own safety, then changed her mind. It would be more cunning not to argue. If they believed she was going to cooperate, they might let their guard down just a little.
Alesandra was allowed to open the door a few inches. Jade stood in the hallway, smiling at her.
“Goodness, Alesandra, you’re not even dressed. Would you like me to help you?”
Alesandra shook her head. “I don’t need any help, Catherine, but I thank you for offering. Why don’t you go back downstairs and wait with your husband? I’m sure your Henry would like you to stand by his side while he greets the guests.”
Jade’s expression didn’t change. She kept right on smiling until the door closed again. She heard the sound of the bolt sliding into place as she turned and ran down the hallway.
Castles Page 18