Lady Alexandra's Excellent Adventure: A Summersby Tale (12 page)

But marriage?

Why on earth would he want to marry her when he could surely marry any lady of his choosing? After all, his wealth and title went a long way.

Even if for some unfathomable reason he’d decided that she was the one, she had made her choice a long time ago. She’d witnessed the pain that her father had suffered when her mother had died. She and her brothers had suffered his emotional withdrawal for years—a depression from which he’d only recently begun to emerge. Indeed, it was as if she’d lost both parents at once, and it had been devastating.

Now that she finally felt as if she had her father back, she was faced with the fear of reliving it all over again. The pain of losing a parent was inevitable. It was bound to happen sooner or later if nature followed its natural course, but that hardly made it any more bearable. Already, she dreaded the day when it would happen once more. Her father was hardly getting any younger and watching him recently with the trouble his legs were giving him . . . it made her want to weep. He’d always been the strongest of men, capable of anything—her hero. Yet every day she saw him, she could almost hear the sands of time rushing through a giant hourglass, bringing her closer to yet another impossibly painful loss.

Why anybody might choose to put oneself in such a precarious situation—to open their heart and allow love in, only to face the inevitable dread of having it all snatched away in an instant, she couldn’t imagine. One would almost certainly outlive the other, to be left behind in constant heartache, and Alexandra couldn’t possibly imagine anything more awful.

As sorry as she now was for having wounded his pride and as shocked as she was at the turn of events, Alexandra knew that Michael had just given her a means of escape. Funny how such things worked out. If Ryan had applied just a little more force by threatening to tell her father what she’d been up to, she probably would have agreed to marry Michael without a second thought. Yet here they were. Michael had challenged her, and as unconventional as that might be, she had no intention of turning him down. She would have the choice of weapons, and she knew without any shadow of a doubt that she could beat him.

“Oh, but I do,” Michael smirked. He looked as though he was truly enjoying himself now.

Out of nowhere, Ryan suddenly laughed. In fact, it was closer to a howl. Alexandra blinked, her lips parting in startled bewilderment.

What the devil is so amusing?

“Oh, this is perfect!” Ryan chortled as he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “Absolutely perfect. Really, Michael, you must allow me to be your second. I wouldn’t want to miss this for the world!”

“You wish to be
his
second?” Alexandra asked with a note of disappointment clinging to her words. “I rather thought you might be mine.”

“So sorry, Alex, but I’m afraid Michael needs me,” he said, his apology didn’t sound at all convincing and Alexandra was getting more than a little annoyed about how much Ryan seemed to be enjoying the whole scenario. His anger at this unlikely turn of events had clearly evaporated. “Besides, you did bring this on yourself, dear sister. Now, it’s time for you to pay the price.”

A sparkle of mischief brightened his eyes. It was almost as if he was taking some sort of twisted pleasure in this calamitous outcome. This was one moment that he would very likely savor for the remainder of his days, she reckoned—the one instance when his sister who excelled at practically everything had finally been bested. It was infuriating enough to make her want to stomp her feet in protest.

Her mind snapped to attention at the mention of her name.

“Are you even listening to me?” Ryan was asking with a somewhat exasperated look upon his face.

“Yes, of course,” she lied, noting that Michael’s jaw seemed to clench with marked annoyance.

“You wish to act like a man, dress like a man, and fight like a man.” Ryan said, forcing her attention back to him. “Indeed, you desire all the privileges that men enjoy and yet, you do not wish to face the consequences. From what I’ve been able to piece together, you were even the instigator in what transpired this evening.

“So you see, Alex, you are the one who has compromised
his
reputation and on top of that, in spite of the fact that he is willing to do the right thing, you’ve gone and tossed his honor right back in his face! And that, in spite of the fact that you’ve always seemed so honorable yourself . . . I just don’t understand it.”

Ryan’s voice trailed off, the amusement gone, which made Alexandra feel even more chastised than before. The fact that he put her sense of honor into question, the shake of his head when he’d said he didn’t understand it . . . it all made her feel so undeniably small.

“If you had any sense of honor, you would be racing to the altar right this minute with his lordship in tow,” he went on. “However, since it appears that you have no intention of doing so, you will face him at dawn tomorrow instead and, God willing, come to your senses.” And with that, Ryan strode from the room, no doubt in search of the claret Michael had mentioned earlier.

Alexandra stood as if glued to the floor.

How has everything managed to go so horribly wrong?

In a matter of mere seconds it seemed she’d managed to lose all the respect that Ryan had ever had for her. He’d called her a . . . well, he hadn’t said the word, but she’d known what he’d meant, and that was enough. A tight lump filled her throat at the thought. She felt as if her heart had just been torn from her chest and smashed to pieces. The most disturbing thing was that she had been the one doing the smashing.

How could she possibly be so stupid? She was refusing the one person who might just make the perfect husband for her if she’d only give him half a chance. She shook her head. It was out of the question and now she was faced with having to hurt him as well. Ryan had given her that little speech about honor. Really! What on earth was so honorable about getting up at the crack of dawn to spar with somebody in a deserted field? It hardly seemed like the most intelligent way in which to settle a dispute. Then again, it might be quicker than a well thought out debate. For the first time since Ryan had walked in on her and Michael, Alexandra grinned.

Would it not be fun to do both?

“There’s still the matter of choosing your weapon,” a dry voice told her.

Looking up, she spotted Michael. He was watching her with a steady gaze as if trying to discern what she was thinking. There was no warmth in his eyes however. Not anymore. A heavy silence hung between them while he waited for her reply. “Swords,” she finally told him. “I shall have to ask William to be my second.”

Michael nodded. “We will head to the Bois du Bologne together. I trust William can meet us there?”

“I’d better send him a note.” He turned toward the door, but Alexandra stopped him with a question. “Will it be to the death?”

“What?” he asked as he turned back to look at her.

“The duel. Will it be to the death?”

Michael stared at her in complete and utter disbelief. Not only was she perfectly stunning as she stood there now, her dress still dangling awkwardly on her slim figure, but heaven help him if she hadn’t just said the stupidest of all things. “I have no desire to kill you, my lady.” He paused as he waited for her to comment, but when she merely stared back at him saying nothing he added, “Whoever draws first blood wins.”

He wasn’t quite sure, but it did seem as if she breathed a huge sigh of what could only be relief. Was she possibly worried about the outcome? And if so, why? He knew her well enough by now to know that she would be confident about winning, which meant that if she was alarmed, it was only because she knew she’d cause him bodily harm. Michael allowed himself to wonder what that might mean and arrived at only one conclusion—Alexandra Summersby actually liked him—quite possibly more than she was ready to admit, even to herself. A velvety warm feeling settled in his belly at the thought of it. There was still hope for everything to turn out the way he wanted them to after all.

“Chin up,” he told her as he turned back toward the door. “Your freedom is within your grasp. All you have to do is win.” Hiding a lopsided grin, he then quickly exited his bedroom and went in search of Ryan before he managed to say or do something else that he might come to regret.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

A
misty drizzle filled the air in the early hours of the morning as the three riders set out toward the park. Alexandra kept a fair distance behind her brother and Michael, her mount hanging its head as if aware of what was about to take place. Alexandra had no desire for conversation at present, nor did she wish to share an uncomfortable silence. Instead, she looked straight ahead, watching Michael’s and Ryan’s backs while wondering what they might possibly be talking about at a time like this.

She was furious with both of them of course, though she wasn’t quite sure which of them had made her angrier—Michael for challenging her or Ryan for practically placing a sword in her hand and pushing her into combat.

When Michael had shared his intention to court her with Ryan, he’d caught her completely off guard. But as flattering as such a notion might be, it was equally horrifying when the thought of marriage or God forbid love, happened to go hand in hand with it. And if there was one thing that Alexandra absolutely did not want, it was to fall in love—she especially did not want to face each day with the same worry:
How much longer do we have together?

Will it be decades? Years? Months, or mere days?

She simply would not be able to live with such a concern, particularly in light of the fact that he clearly enjoyed going on dangerous missions that would forever put him in peril. As it was she could barely stand it whenever William went away, not knowing if it would be the last time she saw him. Her brother always rolled his eyes each time she insisted that he write her daily letters to ensure her of his welfare, telling her he’d be fine and that she was overreacting. Well, it wasn’t
his
heart that had practically stopped when those letters had ceased two months earlier. And when she’d found him grinning at her upon her arrival at the Tuileries Palace, as if he hadn’t a care in the world, she’d very nearly throttled him. Living on constant edge like this, forever filled with panic that tragedy might strike at any moment, was no life at all.

She didn’t intend to live out the rest of her days as a virgin, however. Perhaps she
was
being wicked and immoral, but she really didn’t care. She’d always believed in getting what she wanted out of life, even if it did send gasps of horror through the higher ranks of society.

She wasn’t acquainted with very many men though, since she’d never had a London season, her father being too preoccupied with his sorrow to notice that she was turning into a woman. So instead of learning how to embroider, she’d climbed trees and balanced along the rooftop of Moorland Manor. Instead of continuing with the piano lessons her mother had been so adamant about, she’d spent hours with the horses, galloping across the fields. And instead of visiting the dressmakers and learning to carry herself with the grace of a lady, she’d practiced at firing pistols until she could kill a bird in flight without pause. The only reason she’d learned to dance was because her brothers needed someone to practice with. It had been fun in a way, and she’d certainly honed her skills, but it had also been incredibly lonely. She’d missed her mother desperately and had rarely seen her father. Even Ryan and William had been away much of the time, both attending Eton. So all things told, remaining chaste hadn’t seemed like much of a problem. She certainly wasn’t one to go for the stable boy.

But then she’d crossed paths with Michael. It would be the biggest lie of the century to deny that sparks went flying whenever he as much as glanced in her direction. He annoyed her to no end and was by far the most arrogant man she’d ever come across . . . but, somehow he’d managed to wiggle his way under her skin, to do the unthinkable. He’d actually made her fall for him in a ridiculously short amount of time and without any apparent effort on his part. “Damn!”

“Are you all right?” Ryan had turned in his saddle to look back at her.

“Fine,” she muttered. “I just remembered something.” She felt like hitting her head against a brick wall at that statement. Why would she say such a thing?

“What?” Michael asked, pulling his horse to a halt so he could wait for her.

“I said I just remembered something.” She tossed him a scowl.

“I know.” Michael smirked, clearly struggling to keep a straight face. She knew that he was still angry with her of course, though the intensity of it had apparently faded. “I was inquiring as to
what
it was you just remembered.”

“Oh.” She glared at him with what could only be unmistakable annoyance. “It’s not important.”

Thank heavens I shall not marry, she thought. The man was likely to drive her insane! All she’d wanted was to know what went on between a man and a woman, and he, England’s most talked about womanizer, rake, rogue . . . call him what you will, had gone and grown a conscience. She wanted to scream!

As if that wasn’t enough, he’d decided that she’d wounded his pride or his honor or whatever it was that had them leaving the comfort of their beds at this ungodly hour. And now, it had even begun to rain. Somebody must be looking down on them and having a merry time at their expense. And for nothing less than a duel.

A duel!

A duel between an English lord and an English lady on French soil! Surely she wasn’t the only one who thought the whole thing bordered on insanity.

“Oh, but it must be,” Michael told her seriously as her horse came up between his and Ryan’s. “Judging from your scowl, I dare say it must be very important indeed.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” she conceded. “Though I doubt you will ever know.”

Ryan let out a muffled laugh beside her while Michael merely muttered an oath that was more offensive in nature than most. Alexandra on the other hand remained quiet, satisfied in knowing that she’d managed to vex him yet again. Somehow, that little bit of knowledge made her feel a whole lot better.

A
lexandra was the first to see William when they entered the park. He was wearing a heavy cloak with the hood drawn low over his head to protect him from the rain. The minute Alexandra spotted him, he nudged his mount toward them. The animal protested with a rough shake of its head, stepping in place with great agitation before bowing to William’s command. “What’s all this nonsense about?” he asked in a stiff voice while he drew up alongside Alexandra.

“It appears as though I have offended his lordship’s honor.” She paused for a moment as a smile crept over her lips. “He’s challenged me to a duel in the hope of defending it.”

William cast a glance over her shoulder at Michael. “It must have been quite an offense indeed if you felt compelled to challenge her.”

“I didn’t make the decision lightly,” Michael ground out. His eyes were unflinching as he stared back at William.

“You made it quickly enough,” Alexandra remarked.

“That is beside the point,” he shot back.

“I hardly . . .” she stopped herself with a sigh. An argument wasn’t going to solve anything right now. She looked at William. “Thank you for coming. I was not sure if you would be able to manage it.”

“I must admit I was quite taken aback by your hasty letter, but it goes without saying that I would do whatever it took to be here right now. After all, it’s not every day that my little sister asks for my assistance.” He smiled affectionately at her, but when his eyes shifted to Ryan, it dropped from his face. “What I would like to know is why the devil
you
are not her second.”

“Michael asked me first,” Ryan said simply and much too nonchalantly for Alexandra’s liking.

“He did not!” she exclaimed as she spun around, her eyes pinning him with an accusing stare.

He shrugged. “Well, then I suppose it’s because I thought it the right thing to do after you had just insulted him so distastefully.”

“Did you?” William asked her in a low tone that demanded an honest answer.

Alexandra’s eyes met Michael’s. They glistened with a mixture of anger, regret, and desire that tore at her heart with a vengeance. She nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid I did.”

“Well, then I suppose there’s nothing for it, although, as your second I must inform you that this entire business may be settled with an apology.” William frowned as he looked at his sister. “Do you wish to apologize to Lord Trenton so we might put this whole—”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

Her eyes were cast down. She couldn’t look at any of them anymore. There was no one to blame for it but herself. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it.

“Very well then,” William sighed. “There’s no point in wasting time. Let us begin.”

Turning his horse around, he trotted along a footpath to a large lawn that was both flat and devoid of trees and bushes. It would serve nicely as a sparring ground.

Alexandra followed close behind him, dismounting and tying the reins of her horse to a nearby bench. She felt a heavy hand settle upon her shoulder and looked up to see William looking down at her, concern marking his eyes. “Will it be to the death?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “No, only until first blood.”

He let out a sigh. “I imagine that must come as quite a relief to you. As far as I know, you’ve never killed a man before. I should hate for your first time to be somebody you actually care about.”

“I don’t . . .” she gasped defensively.

William raised an eyebrow. “Do not lie to yourself, Alex. I do not know all the details about your relationship with Trenton, but I have seen enough to know that what
is
between you two, is very far from hate. If I were bold, I might venture to suggest that you have fallen in love with the man.” Alexandra’s jaw dropped at her brother’s forthright observation. How could he possibly think that when she hadn’t even allowed herself to consider such a prospect?

“Don’t say anything,” he continued in a low whisper. “I’m sure you have your reasons for doing what you’re about to do, yet I thought it necessary to tell you that I do believe you’re making a terrible mistake.”

Alexandra’s lips drew together in a tight line. This really wasn’t helping her at all. “You’re right, William. I
do
have my reasons, and I
do
have to do this.”

William handed her a saber. “Keep telling yourself that, and you just might believe it.” He paused before adding, “Go easy on him, Alex. First blood doesn’t necessarily mean a wide gash.”

Alexandra stared back at him for a moment, then gave a quick nod before turning about and heading out onto the grass. “Ready?” she called to Michael.

“I believe so,” he called back, picking up his own saber and heading toward her. He was a mere foot away from her before he stopped, his eyes latching onto hers as if pleading for something impossible. “Be reasonable, Alex,” he murmured. “I . . . you . . .” He paused as he ran a hand through his hair. Alexandra felt her stomach tighten before it suddenly flipped in a most uncomfortable fashion. Her skin prickled and the urge to rush into his arms, to feel the warmth of his body wrap itself around her, overwhelmed her with such a force that she could scarcely breathe.

“Why are you torturing me like this?” he finally managed. “Do you have any idea how I—”

“En garde!” Alexandra yelled, cutting him off. The last thing she wanted right now was for him to declare his feelings for her. She knew her resolve would waiver if he did so. In fact, if she waited a moment longer she’d find herself melting into a hopeless pool of lament before his very eyes. She couldn’t allow for that to happen. Her fear was too strong, too powerful, too relentless, and although she’d always feared the idea of love in general, she especially feared it now that she’d met Michael. He was not the sort of man who would say no to danger. On the contrary, he’d eagerly face it head on, pistols blazing while she would have to live in constant dread.

The clash of metal sharpened her senses in an instant. It felt good to wield a sword again, the weight of it in her hand an unexpected comfort. Her lungs filled with a rush of cool dawn air while she sidestepped Michael’s attack. She twisted smoothly out of the way, only just managing to turn about before he was upon her again, already pushing her to the limit.

Reality began to seep in. This was no ordinary adversary. Compared with Ryan and William . . . Well, they were good, very good in fact, but Michael, he was simply excellent. Concern poured through her. He had stamina and a marvelous technique that was proving more and more difficult to outmaneuver. She’d never seen him fight, and she’d assumed that she would easily best him. There was no doubt that she’d made a serious error in judgment.

She performed a quick inquartata in response to Michael’s lunge. Inertia kept him moving, allowing her a brief yet necessary moment’s reprieve. “You’re better than I’d expected,” she told him honestly. Her breath was already coming quickly.

“One should never underestimate one’s opponent, my lady,” he replied with a note of confidence that brought her immediately on edge. “I recently learned that lesson myself.”

She knew he was referring to her interpretation of what might constitute a courtship. “I’m sorry, Michael,” she muttered.