Saved By A Siren: Spencers in Love Book One (12 page)

Chapter 19

            "When do you think we can expect His
Grace?" Elise asked as Holderson poured her coffee.

            Gilles was in the middle of chewing, delaying
long enough for Elise to sense the change in Mirabelle. Her body tightened and
her posture became more aware. Interesting, thought Elise.

            "Three, maybe four days, I think."

            "Should I have Anna dress me more formally
while he's with us?"

            "Not at all!" Mirabelle replied.
"He wouldn't want you to dress or behave any differently. In fact, we
usually dine rather informally at Spencer House."

            "That's a relief! I want to make a good
impression but corsets, shoes and tight hair gives me terrible headaches and
drains me. I feel lost when I wear gloves. I'd hate for the duke to think I
have poor manners."

            Elise tapped her lip for a moment.

            "I know that I'm much shorter than you,
Mirabelle. And I'm told that you are quite regal and sophisticated, Celine.
There may not be much in my wardrobe that would suit the two of you but you are
welcome to help yourself to anything you like. Perhaps a few things might be
able to be altered for you."

            Chair legs scraped as both Celine and Mirabelle
stood up. Elise blinked rapidly trying to understand what had just happened.

            "I'm dying to see your wardrobe,
Elise!" Mirabelle helped her rise as Celine circled around and took her
arm.

            "Oui! I am most excited as well!"

            "I guess we're going there now..."
Elise giggled as she was led away.

            Gilles chuckled as they left the room.

Chapter 20

            The men relaxed in the study, enjoying excellent
whiskey and companionable silence. Gilles reclined on the sofa, an arm folded
behind his head, his legs crossed on the armrest and a glass resting on his
chest. Memories from the night before had him smiling dreamily and sighing now
and then.

            Alastair sat in an oversized, well stuffed
chair. One heel rested on the knee of the other leg. His glass rested in one
hand and the fingers of the other strummed silently on the upholstered arm of
the chair. He'd been watching his brother for approximately half of an hour and
had numerous concerns and questions. From the lackwitted grin and the girlish
sounds that would occasionally emit from the vicinity of his throat, he was
recalling something pleasurable. There was no doubt some level of sexual
intimacy had been reached between he and Lady Elise. It was impossible to miss
the attraction that flared between them, he'd sensed it the moment Gilles
escorted her into the Blue Parlor. Alastair was pleased with the match.

            When Gilles came back from France, he had
changed. He was deeply troubled and rarely seemed present. He'd missed his
brother and had worried he would never return. After six months of the family's
best efforts, Gilles showed no signs of coming around. He'd worried that his
brother was escaping to a country estate and might remain as a recluse.
Instead, after less than a week, he was smiling, laughing, teasing and acting
like a simpleton. He'd skipped down the front steps of Longwood like a boy and
Alastair knew instantly that something potent was healing him there. Longwood
was part of it. It was calming and comfortable. Chairs like the one he currently
sat in were scattered here and there if one needed an upholstered hug to drift
off in. Mostly, it was the woman that haunted a few unusual rooms like a
romantic ghost. She was soothing his injuries and gave him focus and purpose.                        

            Alastair had very little knowledge of romantic
love, no one close to him had yet given him the opportunity to study it. His
parents had been a love match but his father had died before he was old enough
to notice, let alone analyze them. It didn't seem likely to Alastair that he,
himself, would experience a romantic attachment with a woman. He loved his
family, including Lucien and his mother but he had long ago concluded that that
type of love was based on familiarity and emotional attachment. People outside
of his family held very little interest to him and he was rarely able to feel
comfortable in their presence. Additionally, people rarely understood him or
attempted to remain in his presence.

            From what he read about love and was witnessing
so far, it did not have much to recommend. The typical obsession and heartbreak
found in literary works never appealed. From watching Gilles, it was clear that
embarrassing glances, the impulse to touch, lack of focus and unmanly sounds
were also symptomatic. Then, there was the protectiveness. It was similar to
what one felt towards sisters and mothers but combined with irrationality.
Gilles had been concerned that he would pose some sort of competition or
threat. The conversation had been a surprise and alarming to Alastair. Had he
accidentally signaled interest in Lady Elise? He found her fascinating to study
and immensely likable but felt no sexual attraction though he could objectively
recognize her beauty. Admittedly, he felt protective of her, much as he did the
other women in his life but it was due to her vulnerability and Gilles'
attachment to her. He would not want his brother to be hurt if something hurt
her. The fact that a woman could create a conflict between them was what
alarmed Alastair. Did romantic love trump brotherly love? Did Lady Elise now
matter more than his family? He considered the only other example of romantic
love he was aware of. Perhaps that was a better place to start.

            "Do you think Mirabelle is still in love
with Lucien?" He recalled the whiskey in his hand and took a sip as his
brother stirred from his daydream.

            Gilles blinked rapidly as the ceiling came into
view and considered.

            "I think she might be. I had thought it a
childhood infatuation but after eight seasons and a dozen proposals, I'm worried
that she's waiting for him."

            "Did her love for him grow from many years
of close proximity, or did her feelings change as a result of some
occurrence?"

            "I couldn't say. You might ask her."

            Alastair dismissed the idea. For some reason,
the idea made him feel like a cat with it's fur rubbed the wrong way.

            "How long can love last if it isn't
returned?"

            Gilles lifted his head and drank. He sighed as
he let it fall back again.

            "I don't know. I suppose it could go on
forever in some cases."

            "Should we do anything about
Mirabelle?" Alastair had dreaded the question since seeing her with Lucien
at dinner a few nights before.

            "There's nothing to do. We can't simply
tell her not to love someone. It's Lucien. We all love him. I'm hoping time
will resolve this on it's own. The right man could come along and make her
forget her feelings for him. Or, he might marry first, forcing her to let him
go."

            "That would hurt her." Alastair knew
his brother felt a similar twisting in his gut at the thought.

            "We can't do anything about that. We can't
make her fall out of love with Lucien and we can't prevent them from being
around each other.  I don't doubt that he's been aware of her feelings for
years yet he's never let it alter their relationship. Lucien would never do
anything to hurt her and if he finds it unavoidable, he'll minimize it as well
as he can. You and I will just have to do what we can to support her if he
marries first."

            Alastair nodded and weighed his next question
carefully.

            "Love was very sudden for you."

            Gilles became very still. Alastair thought he
might not have breathed for almost a minute.

            "It was like seeing something I'd wanted my
whole life, something I started searching for as soon as I could crawl. Only, I
hadn't known that I'd been looking. It was terrifying, like falling off a
cliff, into the ocean but needing the water because your skin's on fire. I felt
utterly lost, yet I knew I'd found my home."

            Alastair leaned forward, resting his elbows on
his knees.

            "That sounds dreadful. Why would you want
that?"

            "It's terrible. I'm more afraid than I've
ever been in my life. If she doesn't accept me, I'll never get over it. I'll
love her always and I don't think I can be happy without her. But it's also the
most incredible thing that's ever happened to me." He sat up, downed his
drink and stood. He reached for Alastair's glass and then headed to the
sideboard.

            "I don't see how any of that's incredible.
You're vulnerable and your future happiness is in her hands."

            Gilles handed Alastair his glass and sat in the
chair next to his. He slouched down, letting his legs extend and cross at the
ankles. He stared at his brother for moments before a wide smile spread across
his face.

            "I feel like a green lad when I touch her.
My hands shake and I sweat. Sometimes, I can't even think." His eyes
dashed to the door and back, he leaned forward and whispered. "I've come
dangerously close to messing my trousers, I've been so overwhelmed and
urgent."

            Alastair's face twisted and his eyes grew wide.

            "Dear God! Why... How is that good?"
His voice was strained and incredulous.

            Gilles chuckled and enjoyed his drink for a
moment.

            "Because I haven't felt like this since
that first kiss in the barn at Winthorpe. It all feels new and exciting. I lost
that long ago. After a while, all women seemed the same and everything felt
mechanical. Nothing more than a release."

            "For the most part, all women are the same
and the act itself is mechanical. I always thought the purpose of it was
release."

            This time Gilles laughed heartily. The statement
had been revealing. Perhaps his brother wasn't a monk.

            "I'm finding that the right woman makes all
the difference."

            Alastair shook his head and drank.

            "I don't feel the pain when I'm with
her." Gilles said softly, almost as if he'd meant it only for himself.
Alastair focused as Gilles stared into his glass.

            "I didn't think you wanted to discuss
France, so I never asked. But we all know you've been hurting. You've
changed."

            "I... Someone died and I could have
prevented it. I can't tell you much more than that."

            Alastair looked confused.

            "If it was a mission, you can tell me. You
should tell me."

            Gilles shook his head and grief settled upon his
features.

            "It wasn't anything you directed and I
don't now if telling you would put you in danger."

            "Compartmentalizing to prevent the spread
of information and exploitable individuals. You think there's someone out
there?" Alastair stared off, cataloging information.

            "I just don't know enough about what happened,
there are too many unknowns to even pull together a loose theory."

            Alastair nodded.

            "But she helps?"

            Gilles smiled again and Alastair could already
see the strain and sadness fading from his eyes. He felt grateful that there
was something that could ease his brother's pain.

            "I don't feel that hole within me, it
doesn't eat at me and feel like it's growing, spreading like a cancer. I just
feel peaceful and I see a future. Elise helped me realize that this person
wouldn't want me to suffer, that I would be forgiven. I haven't forgiven myself
but I think I'm half way closer to being whole again. And she brings me joy.
When I see her smile, it makes the room brighter. If I make her smile, I feel
it inside of me. I want to do things for her. Hell, I want to do everything for
her. I want to run to the kitchen and boil the water for her bloody tea! I
imagine braiding her hair at night."

            Again, Alastair's face showed confusion.                  

            "You know how to make tea and braid
hair?"

            Gilles shook his head, a large smile split his
face.

            "No! But I want to learn just so that I can
do it for her."

            "I would not consider that a
recommendation, as far as love goes."

            "But it is. I want to be everything to her
and I want everything from her. I want to know her completely and bare myself
to her in every way."

            "How is any of that desirable?"

            "To be so close to someone that they know,
understand and accept everything about you. To be able to have an entire
conversation without speaking. To have someplace where you can lose yourself
and be free of the world. Could anything be more desirable?"  

            Alastair attempted to sort and assess the
details of their conversation. Mirabelle still loved Lucien, was putting her
life on hold and might find herself deeply hurt soon. This belonged in the
negative column. It was clear his brother was happy and more and more like the
man he was before France. Definitely a positive. But if Lady Elsie rejected
him, he could be unhappy for a very long time. He could regress back to the man
he was in London. Definitely a negative. Alastair could make no conclusions
about love or why a person would want it. The only thing he was sure of, it
seemed too unsettling for him and he certainly had no desire to learn to make
tea.

            Just as Alastair set the examination of love and
his siblings' futures aside, his brother became alert, sitting up and setting
his whiskey down. The sound of fingers snapping and stairs creaking softly
reached his ears. He smiled as his brother went to the door. A moment later,
Lady Elise stepped over the threshold carefully. Gilles met her and took her
hands in his, raising them to his lips.

            "Did you need something?"

            Lady Elise smiled warmly and Alastair noticed
that one of her fingers escaped Gilles' hold and traced his lower lip. He
quickly looked away, feeling like a voyeur.

            "Your mother and sister are having a few
dresses altered with Anna and Alice. I snuck away and thought I'd see if you
two were free. I smell whiskey." Gilles led her to the couch and she
pulled him close as she sat. "Could I have a little? I used to enjoy a
glass with Basil from time to time."

            Alastair felt his brows rise. She was full of
contradictions. Gilles poured her a glass and relaxed beside her. Alastair
noted the immediate easing of his brother and that his arm extended along the
back of the couch and his fingers toyed with her hair. He seemed to not be
aware he was doing it or the fact that he was observed. Lady Elise looked as if
she was about to settle into the seat before she straightened and turned in
Alastair's direction.

            "I have an unusual favor to ask, Sir
Alastair."

            "I'll do my best not to disappoint
you." He replied as he sat up.

            Her fingers tapped nervously against the glass
in her hand.

            "As you're aware, I use my hands to help me
see. I can't see what a person looks like but I can use my hands to help me
make out the features of their face."

            Gilles' posture became tense and he looked
swiftly at Alastair. He lifted his shoulders, signaling his lack of
understanding. Lady Elise sensed Gilles' change of demeanor.