Stroke of Midnight (22 page)

“I admit that it was most improper for Miss Falkner and I to be alone in a bedchamber,” he said to them. “Perhaps we might leave the door ajar and let you ladies keep an eye on us while we talk?”

That was too enticing a prospect for these avid gossipmongers to refuse. He hunted down several straight-backed chairs and placed them in the corridor just outside the open door.

Having finally mastered her shock, Laura took a lamp and marched to the far end of the bedchamber, where a chaise sat in front of the blue-draped windows. She set the lamp down on a table, perched on the edge of the seat cushion, and stiffly clenched her fingers together in her lap while she waited for Alex.

With the impatient strides of a prospective bridegroom, he advanced through the bedchamber and then settled down right beside her. He caught hold of her hand and brought it to his lips. In a loud, booming voice, he declared, “Laura, my darling. How I have longed for this moment.”

The ladies in their chairs outside the door twittered like starving hens that had been tossed a handful of grain. Apparently his wooing of their good opinion had met with some success, and they had decided that the infamous Miss Falkner was not nearly so wicked now that she was betrothed to one of the Quality.

Laura was hard-pressed to contain the surfeit of emotions swirling inside herself. The only one that made any sense to her was a furious disbelief. In an undertone, she hissed, “Enough with this charade. What purpose can it serve?”

“Charade?” He brought his face close to hers, lowering his voice to a mere thread of sound. “The only charade was in my saying that you’d already accepted me. So perhaps I should begin anew.”

His gaze held hers so that she could not look away. The lamplight picked out flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes. When he gazed so intently at her, she could scarcely string two thoughts together. “Begin what anew?”

“My proposal of marriage. This is hardly the way I intended to ask you, with an audience watching, but … Laura, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

A tremor of longing threatened the wall around her heart. Despising herself for it, she closed her eyes and glanced away. “Don’t say that,” she uttered in a fiercely sibilant whisper. “You know you don’t mean it.”

His warm palm cupped her cheek as he turned her face back toward him. “Look at me,” he commanded. “We don’t want them to think we’re already quarreling.”

Laura opened her eyes and feigned a smile for the benefit of their chaperones. The women were practically falling through the doorway in an effort to hear this whispered conversation. “But we
are
quarreling,” she said under her breath. “Because you
know
you really only want me as your mistress.”

He chuckled. “I never said that.
You
said that.
I
intended all along to marry you.”

“All along?”

This time his gaze shifted away, though only for a moment. “For ten years, I convinced myself that I’d forgotten you. But when you reappeared in my aunt’s garden, I quickly realized that my passion for you had never died.”

“Passion! There, you see what I mean?”

He brushed a chaste kiss to her cheek, and his action caused an excited buzzing from the doorway. With his lips close to her ear, he murmured, “Passion isn’t only the province of illicit affairs, my darling. I’m inclined to think it must be an extremely valuable quality in a marriage, too.”

Desire smoldered in the hidden places where he had touched her only minutes ago when they’d been alone. The notion of giving him free rein to explore her in their marriage bed stole her breath away. Was she actually thinking of accepting him?

Heaven help her, she had every reason to despise the man. “You tried to arrest my father. You didn’t believe me when I said he was innocent—you still don’t. How am I ever to forget that?”

His eyes turned to dark mirrors that reflected the lamplight. “May I remind you, I’ve promised to help ease your mind on that matter. If, however, you refuse me, my aid will be withdrawn. And without my protection, no one in society will answer your questions.”

“That’s bribery!”

“I prefer that you view it as an enticement.” The hint of a smile crooking one corner of his mouth, he lifted her hand to his lips again. “It’s only one of many enticements that I can offer you.”

Her pulse leaped as she gazed at his strong features beneath cocoa-brown hair, the dark brows over piercing eyes, the square jaw and the faintly ironic smile that so often displayed cynicism. She would be a fool not to acknowledge that
he
was doing
her
a great honor. Especially given the fact that she had caused that scar across his cheek, even though he had deserved it. A man of his rank and standing in society could have any eligible woman he wanted.

Nevertheless, he had chosen her. The realization made Laura aware of a deep hunger inside her, as if her body and soul had been denied sustenance these past ten years.

Oh, it was no use denying it. She desired him, too, with an intensity unsuited to a well-bred lady. Yet he had spoken only of lust. He had said nothing of love. “What will
you
gain from this … arrangement?”

“It’s high time I took a wife and produced an heir. I believe we both will find the begetting of a child to be a most pleasurable experience.”

He held her hand, his thumb slowly rubbing her palm. His caress stoked the heat inside her. She
did
want children, very much so, and with startling clarity, Laura could imagine no other man but Alex as their father. To have a family with him … the notion made her heart ache. Yet how could she speak her vows to a man who felt only a shallow desire for her? A man whom she did not fully trust?

She had no other real choice. To refuse him meant to give up all hope of bringing her father’s murderer to justice. It also would mean giving up Alex, who still owned her heart after all these years. But what would happen if their passion burned out someday? She would find herself trapped in a cold marriage.

“So you wish a son from me, nothing more?” she asked.

“Two sons. An heir and a spare, as the saying goes.”

“I might bear girls.”

“With a mother like you, we will have beautiful daughters. As for the boys, we can always keep trying.” His fingers crept up to her wrist, and one delved beneath her long sleeve to stroke her skin. To the chaperones, it would appear an innocuous touch, though it sent delicious shivers through her body. “I anticipate spending many long, enjoyable nights in bed with you, Laura.”

A ripple of warmth caused a tightening in her bosom that traveled down to her very womb. The pleasure of it threatened to distract her from all other considerations. Alex knew full well his effect on her; Laura could tell by the hint of self-satisfaction in his face. She also sensed a certain aloofness in him and remembered how quickly he had reminded her she’d be cast out of society without his protection.

Yes, it was clear he felt nothing deeper for her than bodily passion.

She couldn’t fault him for that, for she burned, too. Perhaps this yearning for his love was nothing more than a fleeting naive dream, anyway. Better to face the fact that his infatuation wouldn’t last forever. Without love to provide a solid foundation for their marriage, disillusionment eventually would set in. Alex might very well become a tyrant subjecting her to his acerbic remarks and his lordly whims.

Laura drew her hand away and laced her fingers in her lap. “We will sign a legal agreement,” she said coolly. “After I bear you two sons, you will grant me the freedom to live as I wish.”

The cocky look vanished from his face. “To take lovers? No!”

At last she had provoked a strong emotion in him. Perversely pleased by his disagreeable expression, Laura bent forward to whisper, “Not quite so loud, my lord. Remember, we have an audience.”

He lowered his voice to a fierce growl. “Then explain yourself.”

“It’s quite simple. I want a house deeded to me along with a generous allowance. The children and I will live there if I so desire it.”

“For what purpose, by God? I possess three estates along with the London town house. You may have your pick of them.”

“I will own a house in my name alone,” she stated firmly. “You will purchase it upon the birth of our second son. We will sign a document to that effect before any vows are spoken. That is my condition for wedding you.”

His eyes narrowed and his fingers flexed on his knees. Glancing away, he blew out a breath as if struggling to contain himself. He turned his angry gaze back to glare at her. Through clenched teeth, he said, “If ever I discover you with another man, Laura, I will divorce you. That is
my
condition.”

Under any other circumstances, Laura would have been goaded to strike back with a retort of her own. But now she found herself oddly exhilarated by his reaction. Alex appeared more livid than she’d ever seen him. She had certainly touched a nerve. Was it just an innate male possessiveness? Or might it indicate a deep river of emotion in him, feelings that he did not wish her to see?

She cupped his face in her hands and stroked the tense line of his jaw. His skin felt warm and deliciously rough to her fingertips. “I accept your offer, my lord. Now, for the benefit of our watchers, do kiss me to seal our pact.”

Closing her eyes, she brushed her lips over his. For an instant he didn’t respond. Then she was richly rewarded when he groaned deep in his chest and yanked her close, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss meant to dominate. She returned it with her own fierceness as a means of showing him that she would be his equal partner and no less. Passion leaped between them, and the joining of their mouths subtly shifted from heated battle to pure bliss.

They broke apart only when a noise of coughing and throat-clearing penetrated the sensual stupor. As one, they both turned their heads to look at the chaperones.

Mrs. Grayling had risen from her chair. Shaking her finger at them, she stood glowering in the doorway. “That is enough mischief! Quite enough, indeed!”

Alex appeared disgruntled by the interruption, and to forestall him from making a caustic comment that he might later regret, Laura stood up and offered him her hand. “Shall we return to the ball, my lord? I do believe it’s time we conveyed our news to your aunt.”

*   *   *

“I had the loveliest dream last night,” Lady Josephine confided, leaning on her cane and on Laura’s arm as they proceeded slowly through the bedchamber the following morning. “You won’t believe it when I tell you! I dreamed that you and Alexander became betrothed. And then you waltzed together, just the two of you, while all of society watched!”

Laura smiled. The shock in the ballroom had been palpable, she recalled. That was the real reason why no one had joined them on the dance floor. Whether she’d snared an earl or not, she was still the notorious Miss Falkner in their eyes.

Nevertheless, a thrill leaped to life inside her. She tamped it down, unwilling to become starry-eyed over a marriage that was more a business arrangement than a love match. “You’ll be pleased to hear it wasn’t a dream at all, my lady. You’re remembering matters exactly as they happened.”

“Truly?” As Laura helped her onto the chaise, the old woman beamed up at her. “Why, that means you are to be my … my…”

“Your niece-in-law. Soon I shall be calling you Aunt Josie as your nephew does. Unless you prefer to be Aunt Josephine?”

“Either will do. Oh, my dear girl, I could not be happier!” Lady Josephine opened her arms, and Laura let herself be enveloped by that cushiony form and rosewater scent. Tears prickled behind her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d basked in the love of family. Yes, she’d had her dear Papa, but she’d never known her mother, who had died when Laura was just a baby.

Charlie jumped up onto the chaise, wagging his tail and nosing his way into the cuddle. Laura drew back with a laugh. “It appears I have a rival for your affections, my lady.”

“Oh, there’s plenty to go around,” Lady Josephine said, settling the puppy into her lap. “Dear little Charlie. Don’t you know you’ll always be Mama’s sweet little boy?”

The spaniel lapped her plump fingers with his pink tongue and appeared to grin up at her.

A knock sounded on the door, and before Laura could answer, Mrs. Samson swept into the bedchamber. On seeing Laura, the housekeeper stopped short and thinned her lips. “Miss … Falkner. I have been looking for you. You must come downstairs at once.”

The woman’s insolent manner made it clear that she had not yet accustomed herself to the change in Laura’s status. It had to be difficult for her to see an underling transformed into the fiancée of the mistress’s nephew and the future Lady Copley.

Although Laura felt a modicum of sympathy for the housekeeper, Mrs. Samson could not be allowed to continue her impertinence. But she didn’t want to engage in a tiff in front of Lady Josephine. After seeing the old woman was comfortably settled, Laura took her leave and walked out into the corridor.

Mrs. Samson marched to the staircase, where she stopped and whirled around, her bony fingers grasping the newel post. “I would be remiss not to express my objection to your use of a false name, Miss Falkner. You have played all of us in this household for fools. And I see that you have left off your spectacles and your spinster’s cap today now that you have snagged your quarry!”

Laura didn’t bother to challenge the nonsensical accusation of donning a drab disguise in order to ensnare society’s biggest catch. “My quarry, as you so ungraciously put it, is the Earl of Copley. I very much doubt he would appreciate hearing himself described in such a disrespectful manner.”

Mrs. Samson had the good grace to lower her eyes—though only for a moment. “Nevertheless, you have deceived us all. Of course one would expect no less from the daughter of a common thief!”

Any trace of compassion in Laura vanished in a twinkling. “That is quite enough, Mrs. Samson. Henceforth, you will behave as befitting your station—and mine. You will show me proper deference. And you will politely
ask
me to accompany you downstairs rather than order me.”