No Brighter Dream: The Pascal Trilogy - Book 3 (18 page)

“Nicholas, stop being ridiculous. You’re as concerned as I am, so don’t try to pretend. I only wish Ali would speak to us about it, but obviously she feels she can’t.” Georgia gazed out the window, trying to think of a way they could ease Ali’s pain. “By the way, I’ve just had a letter from Matthew in the morning post. He’s coming down on Saturday,” she said absently.

“I know,” Nicholas said, his expression growing serious. “I had a letter from him too. He plans to exact an answer from Ali regarding his proposal.”

Georgia’s attention snapped back to her husband. “What?” she said in alarm. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am. Perfectly.” He folded his paper and put it on the table, pulling his spectacles off and rubbing his eyes.

Georgia sat down abruptly. “I hoped that nonsense would all blow over.”

“It might well have blown over if Andre hadn’t behaved like a complete fool when he returned,” Nicholas said with annoyance. “It breaks my heart to see Ali like this, and in this state she might very well do something stupid.”

“Then we can’t sit by and do nothing. As much as we love them both, an alliance between Ali and Matthew wouldn’t be a good idea. Matthew has always been in love with the idea of Ali, not Ali herself. She’d drive him around the bend in no time.”

“Yes, I agree,” Nicholas said. “Matthew would be far happier with someone a little more conventional. Anyway, Ali is obviously head-over-heels in love with Andre. There’s been a big change in her since he came back.”

“Yes,” Georgia said tartly. “She’s been miserable. I can’t imagine what Andre said to her, but if the end result was Ali swearing that she never wanted to see him again, it must have been particularly choice.” She sighed. “When is that boy going to learn?”

“I have no idea,” Nicholas said. “But somehow I’m not surprised that he put his foot in it. His behavior only reinforces what I originally suspected.”

“What, that he cares about her? Well, of course he does, or he wouldn’t have behaved so badly.” Georgia’s eyes assumed a faraway look.

“Oh, dear,” Nicholas said, “I know that expression. What are you planning?”

“Well … it’s been perfectly clear to me for years that Andre and Ali belong together, and now Andre’s home and Ali’s of an age where Andre can do something about it. But first we have to open his eyes, not an easy task.”

“Oh, God help me,” Nicholas groaned. “Not a matchmaking scheme?”

Georgia happily tapped her fingers together. “Yes. As much as I am loath to interfere in other people’s lives, age has its privileges. I want you to write a letter.”

“Let me guess. You wish me to write to Andre?” Nicholas asked dryly.

“Immediately. The situation has become urgent. Do you think I might have become deathly ill and wish to say farewell?”

“He’d never believe it,” Nicholas said, smiling fondly at her. “He knows you have the constitution of an ox.”

“Well, even oxen’s health occasionally fail,” she retorted. “Oh, very well. I’m a terrible actress anyway. He’d know he’d been hoodwinked in a moment. Hmm. Why don’t we tell him what Matthew is planning?”

“No good. He already knows. Matthew told him, and according to Matthew, Andre couldn’t care less.”

“Ha!” Georgia said. “Matthew hasn’t known Andre since he was a month old as we have. He doesn’t have any idea what a master Andre is at concealing his feelings when he wants to. No, it’s imperative to get Ali and Andre together in the same room, so we’ll simply have to best him at his own game.”

Nicholas regarded her with interest. “How? We inform him that we never wish to see him again?”

“No, because he won’t believe that either.” Georgia went to Nicholas’s desk and pulled out pen and paper, slapping them down on the blotter. “You tell him the exact truth: that Matthew has formally applied to you for Ali’s hand in marriage and if Ali should decide to accept Matthew’s offer on Saturday, you feel you have no choice but to consent to the marriage.”

Nicholas nodded thoughtfully. “Yes … that might just work. That might just work.”

Georgia picked up the pen and held it out. “You can also say that despite being her legal guardian, you are showing him a modicum of courtesy by informing him of the situation, which is more courtesy than he’s shown us.”

“I hope this isn’t a terrible mistake,” Nicholas said, crossing the room and taking the pen from Georgia. “You know what happened the last time we interfered in Andre’s life.”

“Would you rather see Ali marry Matthew?” Georgia asked.

Nicholas sat down and applied himself to writing.

Andre, who had decided upon his arrival a month ago that Sutherby suited his present mood perfectly, stalked across the huge hall to his library to immerse himself in another day’s uninterrupted work.

He had managed to arrange his schedule to his complete satisfaction: a morning ride, followed by a solitary breakfast. From nine until noon he worked on his manuscript. At noon he had an hour’s interview with his steward, Goodfellow, followed by a light tray of food at his desk.

In the afternoon he read and answered his mail, mostly business, aside from an occasional letter from Jo-Jean. Invitations of any nature all went the same way, into the dustbin. He then went for a long walk, thinking through his work for the following morning. The evening was reserved for reading.

This morning he was grateful for the drafts to which the house was prone. Southern England was in the grip of a heat wave, and although he was accustomed to extreme heat, he found the accompanying humidity excessively unpleasant.

A light tap came at the door, just as he was settling into his notes. “Yes?” he called with annoyance. The servants knew he was not to be disrupted for any reason other than the most extreme.

“Your Grace,” Pennyswell said apologetically as he opened the door. “A letter has come. I would have left it for the afternoon, but it is marked urgent.”

“Very well,” Andre said, thinking it must be revisions from the publisher, who always marked everything urgent. “Put it over there.”

“Er, I believe it is of a personal nature, sir, as it is also marked the same.”

Andre held out his hand, and Pennyswell proffered forth the silver salver. Andre picked the envelope up, frowning as he saw it was addressed in Nicholas’s hand, and tore it open, scanning the contents.

Within one minute he’d arranged for his valet to pack him a case, the carriage to be brought to the door, and a footman to go ahead to hold the train in case he wasn’t fast enough to make what Pennyswell informed him was the eleven-twenty, the only direct train on Friday.

He made the train by the skin of his teeth. He spent the next hours stewing furiously, worried he might not arrive at Ravenswalk in time. Oh, he had a fair idea of what Nicholas was up to in dragging him down there—a lecture in family unity was to be expected, but that was only enough to annoy him.

It was the idea that Nicholas would actually be senile enough to give permission for Ali to marry a man entirely unsuited to her that made his blood boil. Ali obviously had no more sense than Matthew did in desiring the match. No, it was Nicholas’s idiocy that truly galled, for he’d always thought highly of his godfather, even if he had cut him out of his life.

And where was Georgia in all of this? Didn’t she have better sense, either? Dear God, but he would never have sent Ali to them if he’d believed them capable of this kind of stupidity.

On the other hand … look what they’d gone and turned her into. A prim, simpering miss. He’d never have believed them capable of that, either. Or that Ali was so easily biddable. No wonder Daventry wanted to marry her. He probably thought he could mold her to his exact specifications.

He pulled his valise off the top rack as the train chugged into the station, ignoring the porter and storming down the corridor, pulling the heavy door open for himself. The heat and steam from the engine hit him like a blast in the face as he descended the steps.

He looked around to see if Nicholas had been foolish enough to send his coachman, but he saw no one wearing the Raven livery. That, at least, was auspicious. He might have done the coachman bodily harm from sheer aggravation.

Andre made quick arrangements with the station master to have a hired coach take him to Ravenswalk at double time.

“Miss Lacey?”

Ali looked up as she heard the chambermaid’s voice at her bedroom door, open to allow the breeze to flow through from the windows. “Yes, Jane?” she asked lethargically, lowering her book to her lap. “What is it?”

“Mr. Daventry has arrived, miss. He specifically asked me to tell you and no one else.”

“But he is a full day early!” Ali said in alarm, utterly unprepared. She thought she had at least until late the next morning to make her final decision. “I— I don’t understand.”

“He said to tell you that he managed to get an extra day off. He’s waiting in the pavilion.” Jane spoke in a semiwhisper that indicated she thought she was dealing with high romance.

“Tell him I’ll be down shortly,” Ali said, cursing Matthew for taking her by surprise. He might be devoted, but he could be irritatingly pushy at times.

She took one cursory look in the mirror, not really caring what she saw, pushed one lock of hair off her damp forehead, and smoothed down her skirt and petticoat, which threatened to stick to her thighs.

“Come along, Sherifay. Let’s see what’s so urgent,” she said, not at all sure she wanted to know.

Matthew was pacing impatiently back and forth in front of the pavilion, and his head snapped up as he heard Ali approach. “Oh—finally,” he breathed in relief. “I thought you were never going to come!”

“I came as quickly as I could,” she said, trying to force warmth into her voice, but failing. “Why did you break your word? You said in your letter that you wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t wait a minute longer. I’ve been in an agony of apprehension,” he said, walking rapidly toward her, his hands outstretched. “Have you made a decision?”

Ali had a sudden desire to turn and run, but she stifled it, letting him clasp her hands. “Matthew, this is not a good time. I’m hot, I’m unprepared, and I’m annoyed with you, to be perfectly honest.”

“But why? I thought you’d like the surprise,” he said with astonishment. “Truly, Alexis—are you not pleased to see me?”

“No,” Ali replied, suppressing a very sincere desire to strangle him. “I’m sure you meant it very sweetly, but it’s not the sort of surprise I needed. I don’t have an answer for you yet, Matthew, and I won’t have until tomorrow. I’d like to take the full time you gave me to come to a decision.”

“I—I’m so sorry,” he said, obviously upset. “I thought that my coming early might make it easier for you.”

“Matthew,” she said more gently, seeing that she’d hurt him, “I can’t make a decision that is going to profoundly affect the rest of my life without giving it the full consideration that it deserves.” She pushed the same annoying lock of hair off her sticky forehead. “It’s not that I’m not attached to you. It’s simply that I’m not sure I’m attached in the way that can make a marriage work.”

He kneaded the back of his neck in frustration. “I don’t know what to say to convince you that I love you, that I can make this right.”

“I don’t know if there’s anything,” she said, equally frustrated.

“Alexis. Please. Will you let me kiss you at least? I don’t want to grab you like a Philistine, given your reservations, but maybe you might see that my feelings are genuine?”

Ali considered this. It wasn’t such a bad idea, really. Maybe her addled senses would suddenly burst into Same as they did with imaginary kisses, and she’d finally be relieved of her burden. “All right,” she said, lifting her face to his and holding her breath.

Matthew took another step forward and took her face between his hands, and Ali rested her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself.

She closed her eyes as his lips gently touched her own, soft, tender, moving very slightly, like the gentle sweep of a bird’s wing. Ali felt as if she were kissing her brother.

He lifted his head again and gazed down at her, his eyes dark. “I love you,” he breathed.

Ali couldn’t bring herself to breathe the same thing back. All she felt was an overwhelming need to escape.

“I—I’m sorry, Matthew—I need to think.”

“All right,” he said patiently. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

Ali didn’t respond. The wild part of her took over and she tore off, heading straight to the stables and her horse, Sherifay chasing after her.

She pulled off her encumbering petticoat and stockings, kicked off her shoes, bridled her horse, and leapt onto his bare back. She charged off before the first pursuing stable hand could reach her and headed straight for the high pastures.

The first thing that crossed Andre’s mind as he faced his godparents was that they’d aged in his absence. He didn’t know why it hadn’t occurred to him that they would have; it had been eight years, after all.

They both looked a little more frail to his eye, and a stab of guilt shot through him. Maybe he had been a bit harsh in judging them. At the same time he suddenly realized how much he’d missed them.

“Andre,” Georgia said, coming forward, unable to disguise the tears in her eyes. “It is so good to see you.”

“And you,” he said, kissing both her cheeks. “Hello, Nicholas.”

“Sit down,” Nicholas said without preamble. “I’m delighted you finally exhibited some good sense in presenting yourself here.”

“If your motive is to pull me back into the family circle,” he said, taking a chair, “then you’re hopelessly deluded. However, Ali is another matter. What can you possibly be thinking, marrying her off to Matthew?” He pushed his fingers through his hair in agitation. “He’ll make her miserable and she’ll make his life a living hell. Can’t you see that? You’ve had her for five years, for God’s sake.”

“You’re exactly right. We’ve had her for five years, and I think we know her quite well. We also know Matthew and we happen to agree with you.”

“You do?” Andre had been about to take Nicholas’s head off but that comment stopped him short. “Then why in hell are you going to give your consent?”