Rebel Dreams (37 page)

He had taken the time from his busy schedule to make a few
personal purchases for Christmas, but he could see the time would have been
better used guarding his own front door. Containing his anger, Alex entered the
house just as Rory and the family solicitor came into the hall.

Their expressions as they saw him betrayed a hint of guilt,
as if he had just been the topic of conversation. Cursing to himself for not
being able to go directly to Evelyn, Alex set aside his hat and greeted them.

Rory was seldom given to physical expressions of affection
toward his partner, but he slapped Alex soundly on the back. “Decided no work
can be done when the whole town is closed for the holiday?”

“Something like that. What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be
home singing carols with your wife? And I should think Mr. Farnley serves us
well enough to deserve a holiday too.”

“I’m going home directly,” Farnley assured him. “I must tell
you that it is a pleasure knowing your wife. A fine, sound mind she has. I
congratulate you on your choice. Many another in your place would not have
noticed her quality.”

Meaning anyone else expecting to hold the title of earl
would have sought among the nobility for a bride, Alex translated. But then,
very few of the nobility would be interested in a man engaged in trade.
Cranville called it “investing,” and for him, perhaps, it was. The earl had
made his fortune and had no need to earn more. Alex’s position was more
precarious. The bulk of the Cranville fortune had gone to Alyson on the death
of Everett’s father. Everett’s wealth would go to Deirdre and a daughter in
Barbados. Alex had only what he earned. A wife who knew what it meant to earn
money was perfect for him.

“Evelyn and I are well suited,” he agreed. He didn’t know
why Evelyn’s name had come into the conversation, but he had more pressing business
and was anxious to see these two gone.

They, too, seemed eager to be off. As soon as they left,
Alex strode up to the suite. It seemed the logical place to look for a woman
who had just been out with her
cicisbeo.

He entered through the sitting room, catching Evelyn by
surprise. She swung around with a guilty start, still holding the papers she
was placing in the secretary. Seeing him, she hastily closed the drawer.

Alex put her flushed expression and the papers together with
the coincidence of meeting Rory and Farnley, and Henderson leaving, noted
Evelyn did not appear to have been out in the cold, and felt his heart sink
into his boots. How many reasons could a woman have to consult with family
solicitors and lawyers? He had made no further mention of the annulment. Evelyn
had obviously grown impatient.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Her husky voice broke
the silence stretching between them.

Alex had an easy reply for that one. “You can stop seeing
Thomas Henderson.” He crossed the room with a lazy grace that disguised his
fury and despair.

“He’s my friend. He’s the only person I know in this town
besides your family. You cannot forbid me to see him.” Evelyn held her ground.
She could have told him that she had not even seen Henderson, that she had sent
him away when his card was presented, but he wouldn’t have believed her.

“I’ve told you before that I won’t be a cuckold, Evelyn. As
long as you are my wife, you will conduct yourself with the discretion the
position deserves. I will have Henderson forbidden the door if you persist in
your defiance.”

Alex loomed terrifyingly over her, his hands on his hips as
his black eyes glared down at her. They stood toe to toe and Evelyn considered
lifting her foot and kicking him in the shin, but she didn’t think that would
ameliorate his anger. Instead, she smiled sweetly, though her gaze filled with
venom.

“Very well, my lord and master, I will ask that Thomas not
come to the house any longer. No thanks to you, I am learning my way around the
city. I’ll simply meet him elsewhere. Is there anything else I might do to
please you, sir?”

Alex swung on his heel and stalked to the far side of the
room. “What do you want from me, Evelyn?” He stared over the winter-bare garden
below. “I have given you freedom and respected your privacy. I have tried to
make you comfortable. I told Deirdre to spare no expense in seeing that you
were adequately clothed. I don’t believe you find my family too objectionable.
What else can I do to make you happy and keep you away from that scoundrel?”

He could give of himself and she would be happier than with
mansions and silks, but she knew she could not say this to him. In his eyes, he
had given her all that he had to offer. No fault lay in the fact that he had no
love to share. Sadly she ran her fingers over the satin finish of the mahogany
desk.

“Give me something to do, Alex,” she finally answered. “I am
not accustomed to idleness. Deirdre has said I may go over the household
accounts, but they are child’s play. I am not needed to help nurse Lord
Cranville. I am useless.”

With hands behind his back and still looking out the window,
Alex replied, “All right. I will see what I can do. Cranville Enterprises has
its own accountants, and I will not have you working in our warehouses, but
perhaps there are some of my daily tasks that you can share. I hadn’t realized
that in a house the size of this one there would be nothing to keep you
occupied.”

Evelyn wanted to scream at him, “Of course you didn’t
realize, you don’t even know I’m here!” but her emotions were too ambivalent
for anger. She wanted to make this marriage work; she just didn’t know where to
begin. “Your housekeeper manages very efficiently and consults only with
Deirdre. I did not think it my place to interfere.”

Alex finally turned to face her. “When Everett is better,
perhaps we can remove to Cornwall for a while. Deirdre has no position there as
she has here. The estate has been sadly neglected. Perhaps you would find more
to keep you occupied there.”

The thought of removing to still another strange place where
she would not even have the company of Alex’s family did not ease her misery,
but she nodded. “I am willing to try it. Do you think Lord Cranville might be
well by spring?”

“We can only pray. I had best go change for dinner. I cannot
find tasks for you immediately, but tomorrow being Christmas, I think you’ll be
well occupied. Much of society is out of town, but those who remain behind will
stop by. With Everett’s illness, Deirdre hasn’t been accepting callers, but she
plans to open the house tomorrow. You stand forewarned.”

Evelyn offered a bleak smile. “I will welcome the company,
thank you.”

Her look of loneliness startled him. In Boston she had
always been surrounded by friends and family, and Alex had never thought of her
as being lonely. It was a state he was accustomed to for himself, but not
Evelyn. No wonder she sought to be rid of him. He had no friends to whom he could
introduce her, and his family was limited. Damn, but he made no fit husband.
Why had he ever thought he would?

Vowing to correct the situation somehow, Alex bowed curtly
and left the salon for his own chambers, using the hall doors rather than the
ones through her room. He did not feel he had the right to intrude upon the
small privacy she possessed.

***

The gaiety and laughter Evelyn knew as Christmas did not
fit so well into the formality of Cranville House’s salons. The servants had
strung pine roping decorated with holly. The conservatory provided bouquets of
brilliant flowers. In the magnificence of velvets, gold, and elegant furniture,
these symbols of the holiday appeared more intrusive than merry.

However, the parade of visitors proved amusing, and with
Alex at her side to keep the names and titles and relationships straight,
Evelyn bore the day well. Her husband hovered at her shoulder while she sat in
the salon exchanging social pleasantries with their company. When the buffet
was opened for the evening open house, he filled their plates with the choicest
delicacies and found a secluded corner where they could eat and relax. Rory and
Alyson joined them, and they made a merry party until Deirdre arrived to chase
them out to entertain the guests.

Alex held her hand as they circulated through the crush. She
was physically conscious of his presence in the same way she was aware that her
expensive silk clung to her bare shoulders. She knew his breath, his stride,
his voice, the texture of his fingers against her palm. By the end of the
evening she was so enwrapped in him that she was scarcely aware when the guests
left.

Only when Alex’s arm slipped around her waist and his mouth
descended to ply her lips did Evelyn realize they were almost alone. She
responded joyously to this first hint of warmth he had offered in months, and
his arm tightened until she was crushed against him. Only Rory’s embarrassed
cough reminded them they were not private.

Alex glanced up irritably. “Go along with you,” he responded
when Rory and Alyson asked them back to the family salon. “We’ll be there
shortly.”

“The kissing ball’s in there, not here,” Rory reminded him
with a grin. “We’ve waited long enough to exchange gifts. We’ll not wait any
longer.”

“Damn you, then be off,” Alex growled.

Evelyn wasn’t sorry when they left. To be in Alex’s arms
again was a gift she hadn’t expected. She had every right to be furious with
him, to shun him as he had done her, but all pride was lost in her need for his
kiss again. Just his kiss, she told herself.

Alex traced his finger along the hollow beneath her
cheekbones. “We need to talk, Evelyn,” he murmured.

“That would be the intelligent thing to do,” she agreed,
although talking was the last thing on her mind when she rested against his
hard body as she did now. She daringly stroked the linen of his shirt,
absorbing the heat of his chest and the rhythm of his heart.

“I’m not certain about our intelligence, but we’ll try it.
Come, the others are waiting.” Releasing her waist, Alex formally offered her
his arm.

Fresh punch and cakes awaited in the small parlor where the
family gathered. At this late hour, Alyson’s brood had been carried to bed,
sated with food and worn out from the excitement of gifts. Jacob had been
allowed to remain, however. Weary with the day’s activities, he sat close to
his mother. Deirdre had taken a comfortable chair near the fire, while the
chair on the opposite side of the grate remained empty. Evelyn clutched Alex’s
arm in sorrow, knowing this was where Lord Cranville would sit were he well
enough to join them. She brushed a tear from her eye.

The family gifts ranged from extravagant to nonsensical. Evelyn
and her mother had used their small hoard of coin to buy modest gifts for all,
limiting their use of Alex’s credit. She was relieved that their gifts were not
conspicuously poor in comparison with the others. Alyson had knit a foolish
pair of mittens for Rory that he insisted on wearing as he opened the rest of
his packages. Alex, in turn, had bought Alyson a tawdry pamphlet on
interpreting dreams that caused her to fall into convulsions of laughter.

He seemed pleased by his cousin’s reaction to his jest, but
he made no grand flourish as he selected his next gift and handed it to Evelyn.
In fact, he did it while the others were still laughing and passing the
pamphlet around.

“Your other gift is apparently snowbound and didn’t make it
in time,” he murmured as he handed the small package to her. “I should have
considered the weather, but it is too late now. I hope this one is to your
taste. I’ve never seen you wear the like, but I thought it fitting.”

Realizing he meant for her to open it while the others were
distracted, Evelyn peeled off the wrappings. Her wide gown practically filled
the sofa where they sat, but Alex rested his arm behind her and leaned forward
to watch as she pressed open the small box in her hands. She gasped and caressed
the lovely parure of tiny diamonds and sapphires. The base of the necklace
spread out in a delicate web of gems from which a single perfect pear-shaped
diamond hung. The dangling earrings had smaller, similar stones.

Evelyn clutched the box and looked up to him with tears in
her eyes. “It is too much, Alex,” she whispered. “I do not deserve such as
this. They’re fit for a queen. How could I—”

He placed a finger beneath her chin and lifted it. “My wife
should have jewels. One day, perhaps, they will become family heirlooms. For
now, I wish you to wear them. Tell me only if the style or color displeases
you.”

The heat of his dark eyes as much as his words caused Evelyn
to forego any further protest. Fearing she would shame herself before the
company, she glanced down to the brilliant sparkle of the rare stones in her
lap. “I have never seen anything lovelier, Alex,” she admitted. “My gift to you
seems paltry in comparison.”

“I did not expect you to give me anything at all.” Smiling
in obvious pleasure that she had thought of him, Alex took her offering with
one hand, while caressing her bare shoulder with the other.

But he couldn’t unwrap his gift with one hand. Giving up the
effort, Alex sat up properly to tear at the wrappings. With evident surprise
and amusement he lifted the intricate silver watch fob from its velvet bed.
Holding it to the lamplight, he exclaimed, “It’s the
Minerva,
right down to the figurehead! By
Jove, how did you do it?”

“Rory found the architect’s drawing for me, and Deirdre
recommended the jeweler. It is not much, but . . .” Evelyn’s
words straggled off as she realized they were the center of attention. Alex
continued studying the detail, oblivious of their audience.

“Let’s see how well the man did,” Rory demanded, holding out
his hand for the miniature ship that Alex studied so closely.

“He did too well.” Refusing Rory’s hand, Alex pulled out his
watch chain and fastened the fob to the end, safely tucking it out of sight.