Suzanne Robinson (8 page)

“My name is Katherine Ann Grey.”

“Yes. Miss Grey. Lady Ophelia mentioned that you and your mother were staying with her. I’m sorry about your cousin.”

“Indeed.”

Why did she look at him as if he were one of those wriggling insects one found beneath dead logs? “My cousin is right. Maitland House will be uninhabitable for some time.”

“My lord, grimy and charred as it is, this house is far more comfortable than the Carson Desert or a canvas tent in San Francisco in the winter rains. I’ll manage.”

Her unexpected coldness made Alexis really look at the woman for the first time. She was a small thing. She barely reached his shoulder, and her hair was plastered to her head and back. Even wet, even in darkness, he could make out its polished copper tint. She clutched a sodden blanket, twisting in the fabric around her neck. He could see thin blue veins in the pale skin of her hands.

As they studied each other like two angry cats, Alexis found himself growing curious. Where the devil was the Carson Desert? What had this young lady been doing there? And most important, what did she look like when she wasn’t drenched and covered with black soot?

“What did you say?” he asked.

“Well go to that place in the village.”

“You mean the Queen of Scots Inn? It hasn’t been improved since the Restoration. And anyway, it’s no place for ladies.”

“You’d be surprised to what places ladies go when they have to.”

Alexis straightened his shoulders and gave the troublesome little person before him one of his lord-of-the-castle smiles. “Permit me to know what is due a lady under my protection. You and your mother and Lady Emeline will be my guests.”

He bowed and slipped away before she could object. He heard her take a step after him, so he lengthened his stride. Walking into the house, he joined the crowd of men salvaging the Maitland possessions before the determined Miss Grey could say anything else.

Moving the ladies took some time, and it was near dawn before he got to his own bed. His body ached from lifting buckets and his lungs hurt from breathing smoke and ash, but he slept without dreams of blood and dead men. It was an unlooked-for blessing.

He woke to late afternoon sunlight. He was sitting up in bed with his head in his hands when Meredith came in with tea. He’d given up trying to discover how the man knew when he woke. He kept his eyes closed as Meredith set the tray beside the bed.

“Tea, my lord Colonel.”

“Meredith, please. I resigned my commission weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry, my lord. Habit.”

Meredith held the cup and saucer out so that Alexis could smell the tea he’d poured. Alexis breathed deeply and became human. Almost. He fished blindly for the cup. Meredith put it in his hand and guided it toward his mouth. Alexis downed the hot liquid.

“Thank you. I can talk now.”

The valet knew this was his signal to help Alexis begin the day. He held out a dressing gown of striped silk.

“Those women,” Alexis said.

“Lady Emeline, Mrs. Grey, and Miss Grey.”

Alexis nodded and faced his shaving mirror. For the first time in many months he thought he might look forward to something besides duty, even if it was only the irritating task of foiling the matrimonial plots of a young lady and her mama.

“Is she up and about?” he asked.

“Which, my lord?” Meredith whipped the shaving cream with a silver-handled brush.

“Miss Grey, of course.”

“Miss Grey has been up for an hour or two, my lord. She asked the housekeeper for a tour of the castle, but at the moment I’m not sure where she is.”

“I think I’ll wear that new morning coat. And the black silk cravat, and whatever goes with them. You know Lady Ophelia died last night.”

“Yes, my lord. Permit me to offer my sympathy.”

“Thank you. She was a mountain goat, but she was a kindhearted one. Once I almost believed …”

Alexis allowed Meredith to apply a hot cloth to his face, grateful that the man said nothing. Meredith had a sensitivity to his moods that had kept them together since Alexis was a youth. Alexis knew the man understood him. There was no need to resort to the embarrassment of putting uncomfortable emotions into words.

Washed and partially dressed, he stopped in the middle of putting on his shirt.

“The mountain goats have invaded, Meredith.”

The valet held the shirt off Alexis’s arm so it wouldn’t wrinkle. “Yes, my lord.”

“Miss Grey and her mama probably want a title.”

“No doubt.”

“Then I should be busy today, and every day they’re here. Ask Major—Mr. Beaufort to be ready to go to the Dower House with me. That will keep me away long enough. And don’t let them come after me.”

Meredith took the opportunity of Alexis’s pause to slip the shirt into place. He nodded.

“She’s probably lurking in the dining room,” Alexis said, “poised to strike, crouched on a branch ready to pounce.”

“I’m afraid you’re in for a great deal of maidenly admiration, my lord.”

Alexis closed his eyes while Meredith pulled at his coat and arranged his cravat. “What I hate the most is feeling guilty. Ladies seem to have nothing to do but wait for one to appear. It doesn’t matter what one does—hunt, arrange business, read—when whatever it is is complete, there they are, hovering, anxious to please. And they hardly ever do, you know. Please, that is. How many times can I listen to gossip about the Queen, or whether it’s more fashionable to carry a bouquet or a scent bottle to a ball?”

“Ladies have delicate minds,” Meredith said. He stepped back to survey the results of his work with a pleased look.

“Delicate? I don’t know. Not Mother. I sometimes think their delicacy is like the fine net on a bonnet. The frothy stuff covers framework much sturdier than one would think. And some ladies’ minds are lined with gutter bricks. Don’t have a fit, Meredith.” Alexis drew in a deep breath. “I’m ready. Thank you.”

He headed for the small dining room, not surprised when Iago didn’t meet him on the way. The dog only waited for Alexis a short while before he gave up and went bird hunting. Alexis paused before opening the door to the dining room. Sparks of excitement shot through him. The prospect of eluding Miss Grey wasn’t as annoying as he’d thought it would be.

He opened the door, stepped in, and frowned. She wasn’t there. No matter. She’d be along any moment. The girl had probably set her maid to watch for him so she could appear after he was seated. Alexis rang for tea. He worked his way through cold roast, Welsh rarebit, fruit salad, scones, and more fruit salad. He had the servants leave the door open. No one came. He called for more tea.

Scowling at the empty doorway, he stirred his tea.
The Times
lay unopened by his plate. He drummed his fingers on it. He dug his fork into the fruit salad, but couldn’t bring himself to eat any more. He’d be bloody damned if he’d slouch about while she frittered time away doing fancywork or making seaweed albums.

He shoved his chair back from the table. As he did so, the door opposite the dining room opened. It led to the library, and out of that room came Kate Grey and a man.

Alexis scowled. The girl had been closeted with a man this whole time. Alone. He looked at her companion. All nose and Adam’s apple, and the dress of a professional man.

Somewhat appeased, he next glared at Miss Grey. His rebuke was wasted, for Miss Grey was still talking to the professional man. Rich bronze curls were pulled away from her face to fall down her back. He grew impatient. He wanted to drag her over to a window and watch the sun turn her hair to fire. She moved, and he noticed the freedom and grace with which she did so. She wore a black gown with lace at the neck and sleeves, but she didn’t make him queasy as some women did by swaying their skirts like church bells. She wasn’t wearing one of those damnable crinolines, he realized. A lady with sense. And one whose body was worth plowing through twelve petticoats to reach.

She was still talking to the Adam’s apple. Irritated, Alexis shoved his chair back under the table with as much noise as possible. Miss Grey glanced at him, but continued
to talk without smiling. Alexis stalked toward the two and heard what she was saying.

“Since all of the family but Great Aunt Emeline are dead now, I’ll have to arrange things myself. I believe she left Maitland House to my mother, so I’ll have to take care of the repairs and the servant arrangements. Now, about those railroad shares. I want to get them on their way back to New York as soon as possible, so you’d better leave today.”

The professional man said something Alexis didn’t catch. He bowed to Miss Grey, nodded respectfully in Alexis’s direction, and left.

Alexis’s stalking took him directly to his guest. She gave him a nod that was much less respectful than the one Adam’s apple had given him.

“Good afternoon, Miss Grey.”

“Yes, good afternoon.”

She was staring at him. Alexis smiled. She kept staring at him. It wasn’t like the concealed stares of appreciation he was used to. It was an honest, what-are-you? stare. She must have realized her gaffe, for she dropped her gaze to the sleeve of his coat.

“Please excuse me,” she said. “I must go to Maitland House and see about repairs.”

Surprised, Alexis spoke before she could move away. “I was going to walk in the gardens.”

“Enjoy yourself.”

His eyes widened. It was he who stared now. She hadn’t jumped at the chance to accompany him. She hadn’t even sounded interested in where he was going or what he was going to do. She really was going to Maitland House. And she didn’t call him “my lord.” She didn’t call him anything at all. Perverse little barbarian.

“There’s no need,” he said.

She was turning from him and stopped. “I beg pardon?”

“My cousin and I will arrange everything for you, Miss Grey. There’s no need for you to overset yourself with details best left to others more fit to deal with them.”

Alexis was distracted by the sight of Miss Grey putting her hands on her hips. It was a gesture well-bred women of his acquaintance avoided, yet Miss Grey seemed at home using it.

“Thanks for the offer, but if I can manage a gold mine, a shipping firm, and all the other family interests, I think I can direct the reconstruction of one house.”

With that, she walked away. Alexis stood and watched her. She was actually going to leave him standing there like a dismissed servant. Three long strides brought him even with her.

“I’ll escort you, Miss Grey.”

“I have a maid.”

He grasped her elbow and turned her toward the stairs. “I’ll have the carriage brought round.”

“My lord.” Meredith came toward him followed by Valentine Beaufort. “I’ve found Mr. Beaufort for you.”

“Why?” Alexis asked. He tightened his grip on Miss Grey’s elbow so she couldn’t get away.

“The Dower House,” Meredith said. “Your lordship said you—”

“I’ll be going to Maitland House first. Have the carriage brought around.”

Meredith gave him a confused look and hurried away. Alexis turned to Val and introduced him to Miss Grey. Val balanced on his cane and bowed. Taking advantage of the presence of a third person, Alexis sent Miss Grey upstairs to get a wrap. He guessed—rightly—that she wouldn’t be rude to him in front of Val.

Once she was gone, Val turned on him. “You know I don’t want to go to the Dower House. Quit trying to make me.”

Alexis took Val’s arm and guided him toward the library at a slow pace. Val limped beside him in silence.

“You can’t keep avoiding the men,” Alexis said.

“Most of them are dying because of that bloody war. I won’t go.”

“You had the courage to charge a battery of Russian guns, but you can’t face men wounded in the same war?”

Alexis helped Val sit in a chair next to the glass doors that led to the terrace.

Val laughed unsteadily. “The famous charge of the Light Brigade.” He looked up at Alexis, his eyes bright with an inner fever. “I can’t believe it. The whole country is in raptures about how Cardigan led us on a ride down the valley of death. What do the people care if the Russian guns blew whole sections of the Lancers out of existence? You saw.”

“Val, don’t. You know the doctors said you’ll never get well if you torture yourself like this.”

“All of my men were killed. Blown apart. It rained blood.” Fallen deep into his memories, Val talked more to himself than to Alexis. He wiped his hands on the shoulders of his coat, back and forth, as though it were soiled. “My clothes were soaked with the blood of my men.” The hands stopped moving, and Val looked out past Alexis to the terrace and the woodlands in the distance. “I wiped someone’s eye off my sleeve.”

Alexis stepped in front of his friend. “Val.”

He got no reaction. He knelt and shook his arm. “Val.”

Val met his
gaze
.

“Remember when we were at school and you tried to fight half the rowing team?” Alexis asked.

“I don’t care.”

“Listen. Old Percy Cheswit was sitting on you trying to flatten your face.”

Val almost smiled. “I’d lost my grip on his fat neck. I was strangling him for calling me a bastard.” He looked at
Alexis. “You pulled him off me and kicked him down the college stairs. I never saw anyone frighten two oarsmen with a mere stare before.”

“It wasn’t the stare. It was the idea of having me for an enemy that sent them skipping. And you, you touchy devil, you laughed so hard I couldn’t get you to stand. You just lay there hiccupping and guffawing. I spent the next three years trying to persuade you not to be so quick off the mark about your birth.”

They looked at each other, neither smiling.

“Would you do something for me?” Alexis asked.

“Of course.”

“Would you go to the garden and cut some flowers for me.”

“Me? Flowers?” Val sounded as if he wasn’t sure what a flower was. “Why?”

“I want to give them to someone.”

“But you have dozens of servants to do that.”

“A servant wouldn’t be as careful. I want you to choose the most perfect flowers. No flaws. They’re for Miss Grey.”

A transitory smile crossed Val’s pale face. “That hair.”