Lady Alexandra's Excellent Adventure: A Summersby Tale (7 page)

Michael groaned. “I realize that, but what
you
don’t seem to understand is that you shall be faced with far more danger than either one of us.”

Alexandra paused. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously. “If I can fight as well as either of you, perhaps even better, then why should I be in more danger than you or Ryan on this assignment?”

Michael threw up his hands in exasperation. “Because you’re a woman, Lady Alexandra. A rather lovely Englishwoman who’s about to walk right into the midst of Napoleon’s army—an army full of men who would gladly give their right arm to bed you.”

Ryan drew a sharp breath while Alex’s jaw dropped open once again. She
had
to stop doing that. The implication of what Michael was saying began to dawn on her as she thought back on the encounters she’d had over the past two days with men who’d discovered she was female. Alexandra felt a rush of heat coloring her cheeks. She cast a quick glance in Ryan’s direction. He was white as a sheet.

Oh dear.

“Forgive me. I did not mean to embarrass you,” Michael apologized.

Alexandra drew a deep breath. “We have indeed shocked one another, have we not, Lord Trenton?” The edge of her mouth drew upward to form a partial smile.

“We have indeed, Lady Alexandra, though I am merely being honest.” His eyes did not budge from hers. She knew he intended to intimidate her, but she would have none of it. How dare he? What right did he have?

“My lord, do I perhaps owe you something?” she asked, her voice now laced with ice. “Anything at all, in fact? No, I don’t believe that I do,” she said, answering her own question. “I do however owe my brother everything, and I
will
do whatever I must in order to help him.” She crossed her arms and gave him a venomous glare. “You have no authority over me. Please don’t make the error of presuming that you do.”

To her brother she said, “I will be in my room if you need me.”

She got up to leave.

“Shall I ask Mrs. Bell to send in a tray for you?” Ryan asked.

Alexandra paused in the doorway. She glanced back at the two men. “No need to bother,” she remarked. “As it happens, I have completely lost my appetite.”

W
hat the devil is wrong with this woman?
Michael wondered as he watched Alexandra saunter off, her blonde curls spilling down her back.
Has she no common sense whatsoever? Is she completely devoid of all reason?

She clearly had no idea of the perils that awaited her . . . a lady of breeding heading into enemy territory . . . it was preposterous. Then again, the fact that she was dressed in men’s breeches was enough to send any respectable person’s head spinning. There was a carelessness about her, coupled with an attitude that spoke volumes about her character. It seemed to Michael that Alexandra Summersby was a very unique young lady indeed.

He couldn’t help but wonder how the stringent rules of society could possibly have allowed for such a creature to flourish.

Well, it’s unlikely that society has any clue of her existence.

She would have long since become the talk of the town if it did, since this was precisely the sort of thing that all the gossip mongers would positively drool over—a lord’s daughter dressing as a boy and prancing about with loaded pistols and swords. Surely nothing could be more absurd.

“I dare say I need a bit of fresh air on top of this,” Michael told Ryan. “I believe I shall take a walk.” Michael strode from the room, still unable to comprehend what he’d just learned—or to quite get Alexandra’s beautiful face out of his mind.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

A
lexandra was so furious she was practically shaking, balling her hands into tight fists and pacing about her room. Michael had done nothing but patronize her. He didn’t care how adept she might be—that she might even be as capable if not more so than any man when wielding a sword and pistols. But no . . . Michael Ashford had simply decided, based on her gender alone, that she would become a liability, and she absolutely hated him for it. She hated him for making her realize she’d been hoping for his approval . . . his admiration.

Perhaps a tiny part of her did, but it was such a tiny part that she chose to ignore it. In fact, Michael Ashford ought to be completely ignored for the foreseeable future. He had proven himself to be just as she’d feared and had swiftly become a thorn in her side. And when she factored in her unexpected reactions to him, well . . . it would simply be best to try and avoid Ashford altogether.

She set her mind to the task at hand instead. William was in trouble and needed her help. Was it possible that he might have turned? That he might be assisting Bonaparte?

Surely not
.

She would bet her life on William’s loyalty. But given what she now knew of Michael’s opinion of her gender, she would need concrete proof. Alexandra groaned as she flopped down onto her bed. There was no doubt in her mind that this was going to be a very unpleasant assignment indeed.

M
ichael returned to the apartment two hours later still angry, but most of all at himself. Being made a fool did not sit well with him at all.

Though there had been plenty of signs. They were so easy to recognize now—in hindsight. But he’d ignored every single one of them—the eyes, the voice, the constant need to wear that damnable scarf. He muttered a series of oaths as he yanked the front door open and slammed it shut behind him.

The most vexing thing of all of course, was that feigning indifference toward Alexandra Summersby would, in all likelihood, prove to be a task of monumental proportions. It was true that she was without a doubt the most annoying female he’d ever met. She cursed like a sailor, dressed like a man, ran about like an unruly child. She was opinionated—insufferably so, in fact. But in spite of all her flaws, he was drawn to her. She didn’t seem to care about what people thought of her and to top it off, she didn’t seem to be at all intimidated by
him,
as women—indeed, most everyone—oftentimes were. She was refreshing. There it was. He’d never met anyone like her, and it intrigued him. He simply couldn’t help it.

Returning to the parlor, Michael spotted Ryan reclining in one of the armchairs with a book in his hands. He looked up the minute Michael walked in. “Look . . .” he began. “I owe you an apology, Ashford. Indeed, we both do. It was wrong to deceive you, but we had our orders, just as you have yours.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully. “I know,” he said with some reluctance. “Perhaps, it might be wise for us to start over.”

A smile began to tug at Ryan’s lips. “That is awfully big of you,” he said. “And greatly appreciated.”

Again Michael nodded, then gestured toward the book that Ryan still held. “Anything interesting?” he asked.

“Just a bit of Shakespeare,” he said, and then gave a wide grin. “
The Taming of the Shrew
as it happens. You ought to try it.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Is she always like that?” he asked.

“Pretty much,” Ryan told him.

“I know that Sir Percy must have had a damn good reason for allowing her to come along, but really . . . I do believe that something must have clouded his better judgment.”

“He has known us our whole lives, you know. He’s watched Alexandra grow up. In fact, he’s approached Papa before about recruiting her for The Foreign Office. He would not have done so unless he thought she was the very best.”

“Then why didn’t she join? Something must have stopped her, and I can’t imagine that it was her lack of interest.”

Ryan grinned. “No, it was not her lack of interest—far from it. It was Papa. He simply wouldn’t allow it.”

“And she listened to him?” Michael asked with much surprise.

“She has a great deal of respect for him. In fact,
he’s
just about the only person that she
does
listen to.”

“Well, he was right to forbid her from joining,” Michael said. “I wonder why he changed his mind.”

“I suppose he must be worried that you might act rashly. He decided to send Alex along as counter balance.”

“Why not simply send you?”

Ryan looked momentarily embarrassed. “She’s a better swordsman, shot, equestrian . . . indeed a better soldier than I could ever hope to be”—he paused for a moment—“I don’t begrudge her for it. In fact, I’m very proud of her.”

She really must be something
, Michael thought,
if her brother is willing to admit that to someone he has only just met.

“I admire your honesty,” Michael told him. “Most men would deny that any woman might be better than them at such things. Tell me though. Has she always been so difficult to handle?”

“I suppose she can be quite a handful, but I wouldn’t say that she is difficult to handle . . . it makes her sound like a spoiled child.”

“And you don’t think she’s spoiled? It sounds to me as if she’s been allowed to run wild for far too long. Indeed, she’s not a child. She’s a young lady who ought to be dressed in fine muslin gowns and—”

“Go for strolls in the park or sit about painting water color pictures and such?” Ryan interrupted. “Good luck convincing her of that.”

“You don’t agree?” Michael asked with much surprise.

“I think I might have a different perspective because of my closeness to her.” Ryan told him. “You see, I admire Alexandra tremendously. She’s not only thwarted the stringent rules of society but she’s done it so remarkably well. In truth, I don’t understand how you can fail to respect her for that.”

“It’s not that I am not impressed by her. Indeed, it’s rather difficult not to be, but surely you must admit that sending a woman into harm’s way like this is irresponsible.”

“I am certain that you must have attended your fair share of balls where you were introduced to hordes of young ladies—very eligible ones with a proper upbringing. Ladies who could sing for your amusement while playing the pianoforte, as if they’d never done anything else but that their entire lives. Ladies in exquisitely cut gowns, bonnets tied with bright ribbons, and hands that have never done anything more strenuous than write a letter in perfectly lined calligraphy. Ladies who will never argue your point, but always nod their heads in agreement because their sole purpose in life is to please
you
.”

Michael frowned. Yes, he knew precisely the sort of women Ryan referred to, for he had met them all. It was one of the reasons why he kept his mistresses and refused to marry.

“To put it plainly,” Ryan continued. “They are all exceedingly dull. Not a single one has an adventurous spirit like Alex, not one dares to speak her mind; and whenever one of them laughs, her heart is not in it—it’s rather a trained sort of sound that they must have practiced at for hours in order to perfect.

“I for one have scoured the ballrooms of Mayfair in search of a lady who does
not
fit the description I have just given you. After all, where is the fun in having the same wife as everyone else? Is it not better to find a woman who is unique? Who stands out?” Ryan asked. “I do believe that I would find myself lucky to meet a woman with as much spirit as my sister. After all, life might become a touch unbearable with a dull wife to see to every day for the remainder of my days.”

Michael couldn’t help but see the truth in what Ryan was telling him. “And how does William feel about this?” he asked. “Being the eldest, he has a duty to fulfill. Or does he plan to shirk it as I do?”

“Not at all, but he does share my opinion of the ladies we have met thus far. He too hopes to marry someone with a bit more character than those women whose only ambition in life is to marry well. Growing up with Alex has made us realize women have much more to offer than society trains them to express.”

“I must admit you have a point,” Michael muttered, though it did very little in strengthening his resolve to stay away from Alexandra. “Although I would never have thought to consider it, I must agree that your sister would certainly make for a more interesting companion than most. However, it does seem to be beside the point.”

“Perhaps,” Ryan mused.

“Besides, she’s by far the most unruly woman I have ever met,” Michael said.

Ryan chuckled. “I am sure she is. However, given the circumstances, I would still like to know what your intentions are.”

Michael stiffened. “My intentions? What the devil are you talking about, Summersby?”

“Well,” Ryan began, “judging by the way the two of you went at each other’s throats, I suspect you’ll either wind up killing each other or getting married. I would like to know which it is going to be in case I need to make arrangements,” he added casually.

“I’m afraid to disappoint you, but with even the littlest bit of luck, it won’t be either,” Michael told him rather adamantly.

“Oh?”

“I have no intention of marrying anybody and most certainly not a woman I’ve only just met. Hell, you know my reputation, Summersby. I am quite content with my life as it is. I have no desire to find myself leg shackled—least of all to a boisterous hoyden like your sister. No offense.”

“None taken, though I must admit that I rather thought a man such as yourself might find her . . . refreshing.”

Michael scowled at Ryan. The man apparently knew his mind better than he would have thought. Still, he loved his freedom. He enjoyed having whichever one of his mistresses struck his fancy, visiting his club, and whiling away the hours of the night with gambling and drink whenever he felt like it. The last thing he needed was to tie himself down to an opinionated woman. He shuddered as he thought of all the men he’d known . . . how they’d been reformed the minute they’d said “yes” at the altar. It would be a cold day in hell before he wandered down that path.

“And if my presumption is correct”—Ryan continued in an even tone, bringing Michael out of his reverie—“then I merely wish to inform you that whatever it was you were thinking when you looked at her—yes, Ashford, I do have eyes in my head—you’d best stop it right away unless the word
matrimony
is on your mind as well.”

Well, I’ll be damned.
The pup has teeth
.

“I won’t see Alexandra ruined,” Ryan told him brusquely. “I hope you understand that. I know she’s not the conventional sort of woman, but she’s my sister all the same, and I love her. I have her best interests at heart, so if your intentions toward her are noble, then I shall be happy to discuss them with you.”

Michael drew a deep breath as he handed Ryan a new glass of claret. Taking a large gulp of his own, he considered Ryan’s words.

Marriage
.

Not in this lifetime
.

Yet he’d also come to realize that Alexandra Summersby was beyond anything he’d ever encountered before. “She’s getting to me,” he said suddenly, surprising even himself.

Ryan nodded. “That is understandable. She does leave a lasting impression.” He got to his feet and walked over to the large windows. “I think you ought to give her a chance, Ashford. I think you would be well suited for each other, though if you tell her I said that, I will most assuredly deny it,” he said, giving Michael a sidelong glance.

Michael grinned before taking another sip of his whiskey. “What you are implying is complete lunacy. She and I barely know each other. Hell, we’ve only just met, and you are suggesting that—”

“That you get to know her,” Ryan said, cutting him off. “That is all I am saying for now. But my promise still holds. If you as much as lay a finger on her without the right intentions in mind, I will personally string you up by your ballocks. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”

“Perfectly,” Michael conceded as his eyes met Ryan’s. The pup wasn’t kidding he realized. Not by a long shot.