Andrea Pickens - [Lessons in Love 02] (31 page)

When it became evident that Allegra was not going to break the pall of silence that had descended over them, Wrexham's jaw clenched even tighter. "Forgive me for my unwelcome intrusion," he said after a moment, his tone as icy as color of his eyes. "I—"

His words were interrupted by the sudden entrance of his sister, who was in a state of obvious agitation.

"Oh Leo," she cried, seemingly obvious to the tension in the room. "Thank goodness I have found you. I must leave for Alston Grange immediately!" She thrust a letter towards him. "I have just received news that Charles suffered an accident in Russia and has just arrived at Portsmouth. James could not leave his mission, but William has accompanied him and is taking him straight home. I must go to him!"

Wrexham took the letter and quickly scanned its contents. His face relaxed slightly. "It does not sound overly serious, Olivia. A broken leg is hardly a great source of concern with a lad like Chas. I'm sure you will find him chafing to be up and about when you arrive. Your biggest worry will be to keep him quiet for as long as the doctor would like."

Lady Alston calmed down a bit at earl's sensible words. "No doubt you are right," she said with a sigh. "Still, I feel I must leave immediately." She suddenly took notice of Allegra standing by the desk. "Oh my dear, I hope you will forgive me for flying away so abruptly. I am sorry to—"

Allegra came forward and instinctively slipped her hands around Lady Alston's. "Do not trouble yourself over it for a second. Of course you must go to your sons! I am sure that as his lordship says, you will find Charles is well on the mend."

Lady Alston gave her a grateful smile. "You must promise to pay a visit to the Grange in the near future. I should like very much for you to meet the rest of my family."

Allegra murmured some noncommittal sound as Wrexham's sister turned back to her brother. "Leo, will you see to the carriage while I have Clothilde pack a light valise?"

"Of course, Olivia. I'll take care of everything." He took her by the arm and started for the door. Lady Alston turned and said a last goodbye.

The earl said nothing.

* * *

Max pushed his rook over two squares.

Allegra's brows rose slightly. "Max, you are putting your own king into check."

"Oh. Sorry." But rather than retrieve his errant move, the lad propped his chin in his hand and heaved a sigh. "I'm afraid I haven't been paying much attention."

"No, neither have I," she admitted as she pushed the board away from them.

It was obvious that something was bothering him as he started to fidget in his chair. "I... I didn't mean to act as I did," he finally blurted out. "I was, well, I was angry."

She nodded sympathetically. "I know. We all sometimes say things we don't really mean when we are upset."

He tried to put on a brave face, but his words betrayed his uncertainty. "Maybe he is fed up with having to deal with me. I know I have been a sore trial of late. Maybe he means to send me home with the new tutor and stay here in Town, like many other of his acquaintances. I... I should not wish for that at all."

"I am sure that is not so," she said quietly, though in truth, she was also concerned about the earl's strange behavior. He had left the townhouse shortly after the departure of his sister and had not returned that night. It was now late the following afternoon and still he had not put in an appearance.

Max blinked several times. "Then why has he not come home, if he does not mean to wash his hands of me?"

She could not give him an answer.

A knock came at the library door and one of the footmen ushered in Lord Bingham.

"Good afternoon, I thought I might stop in and pay my respects." His smile faded at the sight of their troubled expressions. "What is wrong?" He glanced around the room. "Where is Leo?"

Max's lip quivered slightly. "I had a terrible quarrel with him. I think he's gone away."

"Lord Wrexham left yesterday afternoon and he has not returned since," explained Allegra.

Bingham's brows drew together. "That is not at all like Leo." He fixed her with a penetrating look.

"I'm afraid he and I also exchanged words," she added in a low voice. "No doubt it is my presence he wishes to avoid, Max, not yours."

"You don't imagine anything has... happened to him?" asked Max hesitantly.

Bingham shook his head. "No, Max, I do not think you have any need to worry on that account." He made a slight grimace. "Let me see what I can do to, er, locate him. I imagine I may have a few notions as to where he might be." Under his breath he couldn't help but add, "And perhaps I will manage to knock some sense into him as well."

With that, he excused himself, wondering just how his friend was going to extract himself from this coil.

* * *

With a muttered oath, he left the smoky confines of gaming hell and climbed back into his carriage. A visit to White's had directed him to one of the more reputable gambling establishments, which in turn had led him here. But it appeared he had missed the earl by a scant half hour. Bingham's lips compressed as he consulted his pocket watch. Then he rapped on the trap and gave his coachman a terse order.

There was one other establishment he could think of to try.

The heavy oak door opened slowly to the rap of the ornate brass knocker. A liveried doorman with the misshapen nose and flattened cheeks of a former pugilist regarded him for a moment through narrowed eyes, then stepped aside to admit him.

"Good evening, Lord Bingham," he said in a gravely voice, holding out his meaty hand to relieve the gentleman of his topcoat.

"It is heartening to see that I still pass your scrutiny, Collins," replied Bingham rather dryly.

The answering grin revealed several missing teeth. "Madame Rochette would box my ears if I didn't keep my eyes peeled, sir. You know she is very particular as to who she admits."

"Why, Lord Bingham," came a sultry voice from behind him. "What a pleasant surprise. I don't believe we have been favored with your company for some time." A tall woman dressed in an expensive gown of emerald silk came into the elegant entrance hall. Though well past her first youth, she was still strikingly attractive, even if the curves had become a bit more ample. She took his arm and led him towards a small drawing room done in rich shades of burgundy and gold.

"Actually, I am looking for a friend tonight—that is, I am looking for Lord Wrexham."

Madame Rochette's eyes twinkled. "Ah, Lord Wrexham. He is upstairs at the moment." Her eyes went to the ornate gilded clock on the mantel. "But I believe he will be down shortly. Are you sure you would not like to meet... another friend while you wait?"

His mouth twitched at the corners. "Your offer is quite tempting, but tonight I think I shall simply wait for Wrexham, if I might."

"But of course." She indicated an intimate seating arrangement near the crackling fire. "Let me ring for some champagne and we shall have a comfortable coze—you must fill me in on all the latest ondits."

They were enjoying yet another laugh over the foibles of Prinny and Maria Fitzherbert when the scuffling of unsteady feet drew their attention. Bingham rose and approached the curved staircase in time to catch Wrexham as he stumbled down the last few steps. A dark stubble covered the earl's cheeks and he reeked of brandy and the cloying scent of a strong perfume. His cravat hung in disarray over his wrinkled shirtfront and the state of his tailored coat would have caused his valet to swoon.

"Come on, Leo. It's time to go home."

Wrexham ran a hand through his tangled locks as he tried to focus his bleary eyes. "Don't want to go home," he mumbled, his voice slurred with alcohol.

Bingham took hold of his friend's shoulder and guided him towards the door. "Yes, you do. Max and Allegra are quite concerned about you."

The earl dug in his heels. "Not bloody likely! They both wish me to the devil, so take yourself off and leave me be."

Bingham didn't loosen his grip. With the assistance of Collins, he managed to get Wrexham into his greatcoat and down to the waiting carriage, despite a string of drunken protests.

Once settled against the squabs, the earl fell into a brooding sulk. Now that the effects of the brandy and carousing had begun to wear off, he felt only the same knifing doubt that had driven him to such desperate behavior. The spirits, the gambling, the willing partner in bed had only kept it at bay for a fleeting moment. How had he lost the regard of the two people who mattered most in his life? Was he really so pompous and selfish as his son and Allegra had implied?

He closed his eyes and tried not to imagine the bleakness of the days ahead. Instead he let his fears be washed away by a new wave of anger. Anger at Allegra for being so... maddeningly attractive. Anger at himself for letting his carefully constructed life be turned on its ear. Anger at his sister and his friend for seeing how vulnerable he had become. Even a bit of anger at Max for simply growing up.

Bingham watched the warring emotions on Wrexham's face with sympathy but knew there was little he could do to help, save remain tactfully silent.

The wheels of the carriage soon rolled to halt. "Come now, Leo, cry friends and let me see you to the door."

The earl brushed away his hand. "I can see to myself," he muttered, swaying slightly as he lurched towards the door.

There were limits to where even the closest of friends were allowed to trespass. With a resigned shrug, Bingham pulled back and let him go on alone. He signaled to the driver to take him home.

He had done all that he could.

Indeed, it was quite late. Wrexham didn't bother to knock for his butler, but after some fumbling managed to open the front door by himself. A single branch of candles illuminated the entrance hall. Dropping his overcoat in a heap, he took it up and made his way to the library, rather than upstairs, feeling the sudden need for just one more glass of brandy.

Allegra looked up from the book she was reading as he stumbled through the door, a grunt of pain on his lips as he clipped his bad knee on the polished oak. The beginning of an oath died away as the earl suddenly realized he was not alone.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" he demanded, trying to keep his words from slurring together.

"I was waiting for Lord Bingham to return with news of you. Max and I have been worried—" She took in Wrexham's disheveled state and drew in a sharp breath. "Are you all right, my lord? Where have you been?"

He steadied himself against the edge of a sidetable. "Where have I been?" he repeated slowly. The alcohol had fuzzed his reason. All he could dwell on was the painful fact that she found him odious in the extreme—well, he would give her ample reason. "Let me see," he continued. "First there was my club and quite a number of bottles of excellent brandy and port. Then there were two—or was it three—gaming hells. Can't remember, but as I seem to have quite a large amount of blunt in my pockets I must have won." He paused for a moment. "Yet I seem to have no trouble recalling the caresses of the lovely blonde in whose bed I have spent the last few hours. Ah, but I had forget you have no knowledge of how pleasant the experience can—"

Allegra's face turned a deathly shade of pale. "No, I do not. Nor does it seem likely that I ever shall." Her voice caught in her throat. "Believe me, sir, I hardly need you to remind me that no man would ever find the type of female I am the least bit attractive."

All the anger drained from Wrexham, replaced by an overwhelming sense of shame and remorse.

"Forgive my absurd notion that there might have been any cause for concern on your account. It is quite obvious you capable of seeing to yourself. Good night, my lord—and good bye. My cousin's carriage will come for me tomorrow morning, and then your life may finally return to normal."

As she rose and walked past him with a stiff dignity, he drew in a breath, but no words seemed adequate to express what he felt. The door closed quietly and his eyes fell shut for a moment. Then he limped over to one of armchairs and slumped against the rich brocade, burying his head in his hands.

* * *

Allegra threw over the covers and gave up any pretense of trying to sleep. She pulled on a wrapper over her nightrail and went to stand by the arched window. In the morning, she would be gone from here. Perhaps once she was away it would become easier to put the earl out of her thoughts.

She blinked back tears. All her carefully constructed plans seemed to have come askew. She had known there were risks involved when she had left for Yorkshire, but she hadn't realized that the biggest one was that she would lose her heart. She had thought herself safe from that ever happening.

Memories of the animated discussions, the heated arguments, the shared laughter came flooding back. She and Wrexham had come to a grudging respect of each other—and then, the unthinkable had happened. She wasn't sure quite how, but she had fallen deeply in love with him. It was clear he harbored no such tender feelings for her. Indeed, he had made it more than clear that nothing—save for Max—could touch his heart. He only offered her help in the same cool, detached manner as he would one of his tenants.

Yes, it was best to put all thoughts of him out of her mind. But lord, she would miss the comfortable feeling of belonging to a family, of curling by the fire and reading aloud.... She realized with a start that she had left her book in the library. It was a slim leatherbound volume of Dante's poetry from the library at Stormaway that the earl had said she might keep.