Bewitched by His Kiss (May Day Mischief) (6 page)

Elderwood shook his head. “Disinclination and disappointment simply wouldn’t arise if love was at work.”

“But nobility of character might. Or self-sacrifice,” Alexis said.

“Perhaps,” Elderwood said, “if they are motivated by love. I suppose love might be able to counteract itself. It’s an interesting puzzle.” A sickening one. Could that be what was going on? Did Lucasta care for Alexis so fiercely that she would deny a stronger love for his sake?

Alexis strode over to the banked fire and turned. “But not, for example, by rolling in the meadow while clothed?”

David affected his usual languid drawl. “Dear me, did she—whoever she was—try that? No, no, that’s far too crude. She’s probably stuck with whoever came as an answer to her prayer, particularly if they’ve met and spoken.” In spite of himself, his voice shook, revealing too much. “Gazed into one another’s eyes, shared a kiss—that sort of thing.” He spread his hands hopelessly. “That kind of magic, by what I’ve heard, is as powerful as a sacred vow.” Yet more wisdom of his mother’s that he hadn’t really understood until now.

Alexis said nothing.

“Who’s the unfortunate fellow?” asked Elderwood, and his eyes widened as he realized. Hope flooded him. If Peony Whistleby had called upon such powerful magic and won Alexis...he wouldn’t be able to marry Lucasta. “Oh, my dear Alexis. No other man was there?” He would be stuck with Peony, a pleasant enough girl, but compared to Lucasta... “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not unfortunate. I couldn’t be happier about this,” Alexis said stoutly.

Heart pounding so hard it hurt, Elderwood blurted, “What about Miss Barnes?”

Alexis waved a dismissive hand. “That was never a real engagement. She wanted to write her tome, and I wasn’t inclined to marry any of the ninnies my mother kept shoving at me, so it was convenient for both of us.” He left, muttering to himself.

Damn the woman. All these years wasted! After giving Alexis time to get to his room, David went down the passageway in stocking feet and tapped on her door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.” He opened the door before she had a chance to lock it, slid inside and shut it behind him. He leaned against the door, hands behind his back, so he wouldn’t strangle her. “You’re not engaged to Alexis. You never were.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again.

“Very wise. There is no point denying it, as I just spoke to him.”

Her mouth pinched, and she shrugged. “My arrangement with Alexis is none of your business. Go away.”

He had no intention of leaving until they’d fought this out. He cast a glance around the room, wondering how to put it. “You’re a bloody liar,” he said at last. “A fraud.”

She shrugged again. “My uncle wanted me off his hands. He would have forced me to marry you if I hadn’t become betrothed to Alexis. I had no choice.”

“Hogwash. No one is capable of forcing you to do what you don’t want.” David paused. “Or think you don’t want.” What was that smell? He glanced toward the tray with two small teapots and a cup of steaming tisane. He strode over to it, sniffed and took a sip. “Tansy? And wormwood. You’d kill a child rather than marry me?”

A spasm of misery crossed her fine features. “Most likely there is no child. This is just a precaution.”

He dashed the contents of the cup into the fireplace. With an effort of control, he refrained from throwing the cup, as well. “You disgust me,” he said. He blew out a long, trembling sigh. All hope drained from him, and all desire.

She bit her lip, and he thought he saw tears gather, but none fell. He must have imagined them. He’d been imagining things about her for three long years. She stood rigid and silent, waiting, he supposed, for him to go.

“It’s only the magic, isn’t it? That’s the only reason you were unwilling to accept me.”

She shivered and gave a convulsive little nod.

“How much proof must you have? If our first meeting seemed a coincidence, did the second, as well? If the unquenchable desires weren’t enough, if destroying both our lives hasn’t convinced you, what about the other indications? What about Peony’s instant success when she rolled in the dew?”

Her eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“Alexis saw her and fell in love on the spot.”

Lucasta sucked in a breath. “Peony told me nothing of this.” She made as if to move for the door.

He put up a hand. “No, don’t confront Peony with it. She hasn’t yet agreed to the marriage. Let them sort it out for themselves. They deserve to draw their own conclusions without your insistent disbelief threatening to destroy their love.”

“I would never—” she began, and stopped. Swallowed. “You’re right, it’s none of my business. They are clearly perfect for one another, regardless of how ridiculously it came about.”

She still didn’t believe. Never in his life had he met such stubbornness.

“Nothing will convince you, not your own experiences, not Peony’s, not a wood that keeps you out or traps you inside, that produces a moonlit glade with a carpet of moss for the consummation of love...”

Her face remained set. Not a muscle twitched. She might as well be a statue.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He stalked to the door and turned.

She was hugging herself now, as if she would fall apart if she let go. But the dark fires in her eyes told him she would never give in while he confronted her. She might never give in at all.

He hated this. Loathed putting the control of his life and his happiness into the hands of another. He would give her a day to think it over, and then leave, never to see her again.

“It’s hard to believe such an intelligent—no, such a
brilliant
woman—can also be such a pigheaded fool.” He opened the door but paused. “Needless to say, I was a fool, too. I believed that love was enough. That love conquers all.” He shook his head and left.

* * *

Lucasta locked the door behind Elderwood, although she knew full well he wouldn’t return. She opened her window and poured the rest of the tansy and wormwood tisane onto the garden. She sipped her way through a cup of mint and rosemary tea, but it did nothing for her headache. Still shivering, she climbed into bed and curled into a ball, but with nothing to do but think, the pounding merely got worse. Hardly surprising, since her mind had become a battleground where all the armies were losing the war.

Love
. Did he mean that he loved her? She’d thought of his feelings for her as merely lust, driven by his fascination with magic.

It didn’t matter. Whatever he might have felt, he despised her now.

Was she really so pigheaded? She’d always considered herself a reasonable woman, if rather more decisive than most. Women weren’t encouraged to think for themselves, but she’d never allowed that to stop her.

He’d called her intelligent. Brilliant. Recalling these few words over and over, a part of her wanted to sing for joy. That had been no veiled insult. He’d said exactly what he thought of her, both the good and the bad. Mostly bad, and to some extent she agreed.

Did he really
love
her? He’d never said so.

It didn’t matter. He didn’t want her anymore, and even if he did...

She still didn’t believe in magic. There was no proof of it except bizarre experience, and one could always explain that away.

She fell into a restless sleep and woke to sunlight and misery. For the first time since she could remember, she didn’t know what to do. She had to talk to someone. It was probably too late to mend matters—Elderwood now found her disgusting, and he’d spoken of his offer of marriage as a thing of the past—but if she didn’t get all this confusion off her chest, she would go mad.

How ridiculous. She never flew into the boughs over trifles. Over anything. She wasn’t like her superstitious mother, whose grief had led her to madness and death. She would handle this—this emotional crisis, but she wasn’t so pigheaded that she didn’t know when she needed help.

She dressed in a hurry, tiptoed into the empty corridor and tapped on Alexis’s door. He opened it almost immediately but didn’t invite her in.

She wouldn’t have gone in even if she hadn’t known about him and Peony. She could no longer afford to appear to be anything more than an old friend. “Will you walk in the knot garden with me? I need someone to talk to.”

“Of course,” he said, bless him. “Five minutes.”

She was pacing up and down between the boxwood hedges when he arrived. “What’s wrong?” he asked, adding frankly, “You look like the very devil this morning.”

“It’s about Lord Elderwood. He wants to marry me.” She took a swift turn down another of the paths that radiated from the center of the garden. “Wanted to, I should say. He—he seemed quite...” She couldn’t admit to Elderwood’s disgust. “I refused him. We had words, angry ones, and he well-nigh washed his hands of me last night.”

“Elderwood...asked you to marry him?”

Hadn’t she already said that? Alexis wasn’t usually so slow on the uptake. “Yes, I know it’s unbelievable, but he has asked me several times now.”

“While he thought you were engaged to me?”

“The first time was before that.”

“I see,” Alexis said, his brows drawing together. “You’d better start at the beginning.”

She couldn’t explain it all. Definitely not her...amorous adventures with Lord Elderwood. “We met briefly three years ago, and almost immediately he asked me to marry him, saying magic had brought us together. You may imagine how little I liked that! I declined his offer, and when he threatened to go to my uncle and ask for my hand, I panicked.”

Alexis now frowned in earnest. “So that’s why you asked to become engaged to me.”

She cringed inside; she was used to frowns, but not from Alexis. “My uncle wanted me off his hands. He was already looking about for a suitable match. He would have tried to force me to marry Lord Elderwood. I simply couldn’t bear it.”

“I understand that, but why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“You’re upset with me,” she said.

“A little.” Which, where Alexis was concerned, probably meant very much so.

“I was afraid you would agree with my uncle because Elderwood was your friend,” she said. “Wanting to complete my father’s work seemed the perfect excuse.” He continued to frown. “It was worthwhile work. It needed doing.”
Somebody
had to warn the foolish of the dangers of superstition.
Somebody
had to prove that magic didn’t exist.

She paced back and forth. “Lord Elderwood renewed his offer more than once when I was in London for the Season.” She halted at his expression. “Please don’t be angry with me, Alexis.”

“All this went on behind my back. You can’t expect me to laugh it off.”

She slumped. “I suppose not.”

“I gather he has now asked you again,” Alexis said. “And you refused once again—not because he lacks intelligence or charm or any of the usual attributes that win a lady’s heart, but rather because of his belief in magic.”

She nodded.

“No wonder he’s been looking so out of curl. He’s used to getting his own way, particularly with women.” Alexis reddened. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

She huffed. “I know all about his reputation. He says it’s due to something magical about him.” She paced away between the hedges and back again. “He sees magic in everything. He says our...mutual attraction is due to magic.” That was as close as she would come to admitting any warm feelings for the Earl of Elderwood. “He interprets getting lost in the wood as magic, and finding one’s way again as more magic. He’s as bad as Peony.” She flushed. “I shouldn’t have said that. Peony has the right to believe what she chooses. She has never tried to force her beliefs on me, and I—” Damn.

“You’ve tried to convince her that she’s mistaken. I know. Everyone has.”

“I felt obliged to do so. My mother caused her own death due to superstition. Surely you understand.” She was pleading now, and she hated it. Elderwood despised her, and now Alexis felt the same. Had she done nothing right?

“I do understand,” Alexis said. “Nevertheless, Peony and David have the right to interpret the universe as they choose.”

“David. Is that his given name? I didn’t know.” How irrelevant, seeing as she would never have the opportunity to use it.

“At heart, he’s an excellent fellow.” Alexis regarded her gravely. “It seems to me that you and he have a great deal in common. If you expect me to support you in refusing him, I’m sorry, but I can’t. That is something you will have to sort out with him.”

“I don’t know what I want,” she said.

“He fell in love with you three years ago, and he’s still in love with you,” Alexis said. “What does it matter whether he believes it came about through magic? The important question is, do you love him?”

Stunned, she stopped. “I—I don’t know.”

“If you love each other enough, you’ll find a way to deal with the issue of magic.”

She threw up her hands. “Impossible. We’ll never agree.”

“Not if you don’t even try.” Judging by his terse tone, he had lost patience with her. In his polite way, he left her to ponder his advice and strolled along the path, gazing up at the windows of the house. Numbly, she followed. Why had she never thought to ask herself whether she loved Lord Elderwood?

Perhaps because he had never spoken of love, or perhaps just because of the magic. All she’d thought was how to avoid him. How to prove that he was wrong.

She hadn’t succeeded. All she’d learned in three years was that one couldn’t prove anything either way. So much work for nothing. It was enough to make her weep.

Except that she despised fear and weakness and weeping, so she didn’t indulge in them.

Alex broke into her dazed thoughts. “Which is the haunted room?”

Distractedly, she showed him, and they went indoors to breakfast. David—too late, she’d begun to think of him by his given name, as if she knew him well—offered her nothing but a cold bow. Peony looked as cheerless as Lucasta felt, but Alexis seemed confident enough, and why not? No girl in her right mind would refuse to marry him.

The men rode away to tour the estate and view a hunter that was for sale. Maybe Lucasta couldn’t prove that magic didn’t exist...but perhaps if she could find the mossy glade where she and David had made love, she would feel a little less unnerved. She dressed in a warm gown and sturdy boots and made a systematic search of the wood, starting where she thought they must have lain and radiating outward. Hours later, she had covered half the wood and found nothing but the occasional patch of moss, and very little open space to lie down and indulge in passionate lovemaking.