The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (32 page)

“Please
allow me to offer my condolences on your husband’s tragic passing, Mrs.
McKinnon,” Vanessa effused, reaching out to grasp Scarlett’s hand as if they
were old friends, her expression sympathetic.  Like so many others seemed
to do, Vanessa apparently viewed Scarlett as some form of romantic heroine.

“Thank
you, that’s very kind of you,” Scarlett responded, though slightly taken aback
by the young woman’s genuine display of sympathy.  She felt like such a fraud,
and silently prayed that it didn’t show.

“Well, if
you will excuse us, I suppose we should take our seats,” William said, noting
that the lobby had begun to empty.

“Please
give your parents my regards, dear,” the duchess said, smiling genially at Vanessa.

“Of
course, Your Grace.  It was so nice to have met you, Mrs. McKinnon,”
Vanessa said, turning once again to Scarlett and giving her hand a friendly
squeeze before releasing it.

For the
remainder of the evening, Scarlett deliberately avoided looking in Alec’s
direction.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t nearly as easy to keep her
thoughts
from drifting in his direction.  She couldn’t help but wonder if Alec was
actively courting the lovely Vanessa Brookshire.  Was he at last ready to
settle down and take a wife?  Had he found his ideal companion, the
perfect candidate to fill the role of his partner, his duchess, and the mother
of his children?  Was Vanessa someone he cared about, but didn’t fear
falling in love with?  Or, had his cynical views regarding marriage
changed over the past few years?  Perhaps he
was
in love with the
young beauty.  The possibility was absolutely heart-wrenching.

Looking
over at William Morton, Scarlett wondered if perhaps Alec had been right that
night, the night he had ended their affair.  Would it be easier to spend
her life with someone she simply cared about, someone she considered a friend
and a companion, rather than someone she loved, someone who had the ability to
cut her heart to ribbons?  Could she find happiness with someone like
William?  Could she settle for fondness and affection, rather than the
all-consuming love she had for Alec?  She wasn’t sure, but it was worth
consideration.

Turning,
William caught Scarlett’s pensive expression.  Reaching out he grasped her
gloved hand and smiled reassuringly. 

Scarlett
couldn’t help smiling in response, for he was such a wonderful man.  Any
woman, including her, would be very lucky to win the affection of the
kindhearted, not to mention extremely attractive, Marquis of Fordham.

From his
seat across the way, Alec watched the tender exchange between Scarlett and
William Morton.  Despite the rational part of his brain telling him that
he was a fool, he wanted nothing more at that moment than to make his way to
their box and put his fist into Morton’s handsome face.  It was an insane
thought of course, and with pure strength of will he remained in his seat.

Though it
was a rare occurrence when she slept past daybreak, the sun had been up for
hours when Scarlett finally awoke from her exhausted slumber.  She had
gotten home quite late the night before, for after their attendance at the
theater, William and his mother had insisted on taking her out for a late
supper at one of their favorite dining establishments, one that catered to its
distinguished clientele well into the late hours of the night.  Hence, she
hadn’t returned home until the wee hours of the morning.

“Where’s
Oliver?” she asked, surprised that he hadn’t come to awaken her long before
now.

“I kept him
busy for as long as I could,” Tess replied, setting a silver tea tray onto the
nightstand next to Scarlett’s bed.  “But he was growing restless, so I
just sent him off to the park with his Uncle Gavin.”

“Thank you
Tess.  I’m sorry I slept so late.  You should have woken me.”

“Nonsense
dear,” she stated emphatically, handing Scarlett a delicate teacup with an
intricately detailed floral design etched below the rim.  “You clearly
needed your rest.  Besides, if the stack of invitations you’ve received
this morning is any indication, you are going to have many more late nights
ahead, so you had best get your rest when you can.”

“Invitations?”

“My
yes.  Poor Bertram has been answering the door knocker all morning,” Tess
relayed, smiling brightly.  “I’m so happy for you, dearest.”

Outside,
Gavin and Oliver had just stepped through the front gate when Gavin noticed
Alec’s mother exiting his residence with two liveried footmen following
immediately in her wake, obviously heading to the carriage that waited out front.

Closing the
gate behind them, Gavin stopped on the sidewalk, tipped his hat and offered a
pleasant good morning to the duchess as she made her way down the walk.

“Good
morning to you, Mr. McPhearson,” the duchess replied genially as they came
abreast of each other.  “And who do we have here?” she asked, nodding
toward Oliver.

“Your Grace,
please allow me to introduce you to my nephew, Oliver McKinnon,” he said
courteously, “Oliver, this is Her Grace, the Duchess of Worthe.”

“How do you
do, Your Grace,” Oliver responded, sounding quite grown up for his tender
years.  However, his
Your Grace
sounded decidedly more like
Your
Grapes,
which brought an amused twinkle to the duchess’ brilliant green
eyes.

Bending
down, she offered her hand.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Oliver.” 
Olivia Weston noticeably fought back the urge to laugh as the young lad grasped
her gloved hand and vigorously pumped it up and down.

“You smell
nice,” Oliver told her, smiling from ear to ear.

“Why thank
you, dear,” the duchess replied, visibly charmed.  “I am quite fond of
this fragrance myself.  It’s French.”

“My mama
smells nice too,” he said, finally releasing her hand.  “Do you like
horses?”

The sudden
change of topic gave the duchess only a moment’s pause.  “As a matter of
fact, I do like horses.”

“Oh no you
don’t young man,” Gavin quickly interjected.  “He will have you standing
here all day if he thinks that you will talk horses with him, Your Grace. 
Won’t you scamp?” he said, ruffling Oliver’s hair.

“I see,” the
duchess said, with an understanding smile.  “Perhaps we should save that
conversation for another time then, Oliver.”

Oliver
grinned and nodded his agreement.  “Can we go to the park now Uncle
Gavin,” he asked, reaching for his uncle’s hand.

With a polite
farewell, the duchess was assisted into her carriage and the boys were headed
to the park across the street.

It was
almost dinner time when Alec finally managed to drag himself from the comfort
of his bed.  After leaving the theater, he had spent the remainder of the
night at Boodles, drinking and playing cards well into the early morning hours
in a vain attempt to keep his mind off Scarlett.  His head was still
throbbing from the effects of his overindulgence as he made his way downstairs. 
His mother was presently staying with him and they were to have dinner
together.  She had suggested it yesterday afternoon, and at the time a
quiet evening at home had sounded like a splendid idea.  With the Season
in full swing, his calendar had long been inundated with social obligations,
and he was quickly growing weary of the constant barrage.  Now however, he
feared the quiet night ahead might provide far too much time for him to reflect
upon Scarlett’s return.  Oh well, there wasn’t much he could do about it
now.

Entering the
formal salon, he immediately made his way to the liquor cabinet and poured
himself a brandy, the hair of the dog and all, and waited for his mother to
make her appearance.  She arrived a few minutes later, looking immaculate
as always.  Despite the fact that they were having a causal dinner at
home, she was garbed in the finest silk and adorned with brilliant jewels, some
of which had been in the family for generations.  His mother took her role
as the Dowager Duchess of Worthe quite seriously and always looked the
part.  She was still a beautiful woman and she took a great deal of pride
in her appearance.

“Good
evening, darling,” she said, entering the room amidst a colorful expanse of
silk skirts and accompanied by the subtle aroma of expensive perfume. 
Walking over to her son, she kissed him lightly on the cheek. 

Although his
mother had her own house only a few blocks away, she occasionally stayed with
Alec, insisting that she would never see him if she didn’t.  He supposed
it was true enough, for he was always busy with work and the never-ending
demands of his social position.  In any event, he didn’t mind her
occasional stays, for he enjoyed her company and they had always got on quite
well with one another.

“Can I pour
you a sherry Mother?” he asked.

She nodded
her affirmation, all the while regarding him with a discerning eye.  “You
look tired, Alec.”

Handing her
the glass, he escorted her to a seat by the window.  “Never too tired to
spend an evening with my favorite lady,” he replied, his smile sincere. 
He leaned back against the edge of the side table near his mother’s
chair.  “How was your day today Mother?”

“Oh Alec I
must tell you, I met the most adorable little fellow this morning,” she told
him, smiling fondly at the memory.  “He reminded me so much of you when
you were a boy.”

“He was
quite the rapscallion eh?” he queried teasingly.

“Oh darling,
you weren’t so bad,” she said affectionately.  “But you may be right about
the boy.  I think I may have detected a bit of a mischievous twinkle in
his eye.”

“Did you
now?”

“Indeed. 
I wouldn’t be surprised at all to see him following in the footsteps of his
uncles.  You know those McPhearson lads,” she said good-naturedly, “such a
boisterous lot.  All charming devils though.  I can still remember
all of the mayhem you and Colin got yourselves into at school.  It’s a
wonder the headmaster didn’t toss the pair of you out on your ears.”

“The
McPhearsons?”  Alec’s mouth suddenly went dry.  So much for keeping
his mind off Scarlett.

“Yes, he was
with one of the twins, Gavin I believe it was.”  She thought for a
moment.  “Yes, Gavin, and the boy’s name was Oliver.”

“His
nephew?”  Scarlett’s child, it had to be.

“You
remember the scandal dear, when their sister ran off and eloped with that
Scotsman.”  His mother shook her head slightly, her expression
surprisingly benevolent.  “Then widowed and expecting a baby, all within a
year’s time.  Such a shame.”

“Yes, I
remember,” he said, hoping his mother didn’t detect the note of discontent in
his tone.

“Well
anyhow, the boy was simply delightful.  Which leads me to wonder when, if
ever, you are going to settle down and start a family of your own?”

He groaned
internally at his mother’s not so subtle way of informing him that she was ready
to become a grandmother. 

“I know you
escorted Vanessa Brookshire to the theater last night?”

“
And
?” 
He was deliberately unforthcoming, despite his mother’s inquisitive expression.

“
And
,
I am not getting any younger dear,” the duchess reminded him.  “I would
like to have at least a few grandchildren before I am too old to enjoy them.”

“Only a
few?”  Alec eyed his mother with a droll expression.  He was well
aware that she was ready for him to find a wife and promptly begin the
begetting of heirs.  How could he not, when she broached the topic every
chance she got.  It was the one subject on which they had been continually
at odds over for years.

“Well if you
intend to have more than that you had better get busy my boy,” her meaningful
look implying that the time was now.  “Vanessa is a lovely girl Alec, and
her family is highly respected.”

It was times
like these that Alec most disliked being an only child, for his mother had no
other children to concern herself with.  “How’s Duchy doing, I haven’t seen
her in a while,” he said, pointedly ignoring her last comment.

She
harrumphed at his deliberate change of topic, but apparently decided to let the
matter drop, at least for the time being.  “You can ask her
yourself.  Your grandmother should be here any minute.  I stopped for
tea earlier and when I mentioned that we would be dining at home this evening,
she promptly invited herself over.”

Like his
mother, his grandmother had her own residence not far from his, just on the
other side of the park in fact.  He stopped by to see her regularly, but
he had been especially busy of late, and it had been too long since his last
visit.  It was an oversight for which he was sure to catch hell. 
Nearing seventy, his grandmother was still vibrant and active, and as she had
aged she had become decidedly more outspoken and forthright.  He was sure
to receive a well-deserved chastising for his nonattendance of late.