The Savage Miss Saxon (4 page)

Miss Saxon quickly directed her attention solely on Lord Linton, although the sight of the three young men all staring at her bug-eyed, their mouths agape, was a very diverting attraction. “Impossible, my lord? Surely not. Improbable, maybe. Incredible, most assuredly. But
impossible
? Why, my lord—have you not heard of the birds and the bees?”

His lordship had the good grace to color under his tan, but he recovered himself neatly. “I am not so ignorant as to be unaware of the mechanics of conception, madam,” he informed her coldly, trying (in vain) to disconcert her, “but I do admit to a grey area when it comes to the reproductive capabilities of a
corpse
!”

In answer, Miss Saxon gave a gay laugh that succeeded in turning Mannering’s blush into an angry flush. “Oh ho,” she said cheerfully, “is that the way of it then? Chas said it might be.”

“Then Charles Saxon did not die just months after leaving home under a cloud over twenty years ago?” Jeremy broke in.

“He most assuredly did not,” Miss Saxon told him, “and I am proof of that, now, aren’t I?” Turning back to Lord Linton she pressed him, “Tell me, please, sir—as I am interested to hear in what manner Chas was supposed to have met his Maker—how did my grandfather explain the death? I assume Grandfather left himself a loophole in case poor Chas had a change of heart and one day showed up on the family doorstep.”

“I believe, if memory serves, your father was lost in a shipwreck,” Lord Linton put in dryly.

“Oh, of course,” Miss Saxon gurgled, clearly delighted. “Then would come the rescue at sea, unfortunately by pirates whom he luckily escaped some years later. Or perhaps he had a convenient, loss of memory—that returned miraculously one sunny day. Then,
voilà
, the prodigal returneth!” She shook her head in amazement. “A crafty old soul, my grandfather, wouldn’t you say?”

“Why did your father leave in the first place?” Cuffy broke in, clearly quite interested in the proceedings.

“I’m not quite sure,” Alexandra answered. “Chas was never too clear on that point, although I believe it had something to do with his being a younger son, with no say in running the estate. Anyway, he sailed to America, settled in Philadelphia, met my mother, and remained in the city until his death.”

At these last words the Indian, long since forgotten by everyone but Billy—who was still staring at the man as though he might either disappear or attack at any moment—began a low rumbling moan deep in his chest. The sound grew louder as it rose in pitch to become a high, strident wail. The men in the room felt a shiver of apprehension run down their spines at the sound, but then, just as abruptly as it had begun, the wailing stopped.

Alexandra apologized hastily, “I beg your pardon, sirs. He
will
do that every time I mention Chas and d-e-a-t-h in the same sentence. They were quite devoted companions, you know,” she ended, as if that explained anything, which it didn’t, at least not to Lord Linton.

Now his lordship skewered the girl with his one good eye. He was beginning to experience an uncomfortable, anxious feeling deep inside him and decided it profitable to clear up any lingering misunderstandings as quickly as possible. This anxiety may have been responsible for the crudity with which he put his next question. “Are you, madam, I earnestly pray, born outside legal wedlock?”

“Oh, I say!” interjected Jeremy, purely aghast at his brother’s question.

Now it was Miss Saxon’s turn to cast daggers at his lordship with her two black, flashing eyes—much more disconcerting than Linton’s one-eyed version of such a look, or so thought the observant Jeremy. “It makes a difference?” she questioned from between tightly clenched teeth.

“ ’Course it does. Only stands to reason. By-blows of no account. A gentry mort’s a whole different kettle of fish. Right, mates?” This sterling little piece of information came from Billy, whose bright smile quickly withered under his companions’ hard stares.

“You large-mouthed baboon!” Cuffy hissed.

“Always said he was short of a sheet,” Jeremy apologized desperately to his brother. “Nary a hint of a furnished toploft.”

As they all shuffled and gabbled in their discomfort, the Indian, noticing Miss Saxon’s rigid posture, slid silently into the room to take up a menacing stance behind her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on the hilt of his knife.

Lord Linton quickly took charge, explaining, in great detail, the reason for his rude question. It was one thing to have the illegitimate offspring of a peer under his all-male roof—but quite another to have the dear, and only, granddaughter of Sir Alexander Saxon compromised by inadvertently spending the night in that same all-male household.

“In that case, sir,” Alexandra replied, beginning to enjoy herself mightily, “you may consider me compromised.”

“Oh, lord, it’s pistols for two, sure as check!” Jeremy cried fatalistically. He knew how monstrous disagreeable old man Saxon could be—and that was on his good days. There was just no telling the sort of rumpus he would kick up over
this
little bit of news.

It only took a few seconds for Cuffy to realize that Miss Saxon’s presence in this “all-male residence” was in no small part due to the prank of the night before, and he hastened to whisper to Billy, “I suggest we best toddle off now, coz.”

“Yes, you’d best do that,” Nicholas agreed, overhearing Cuffy. “As I am feeling a strong desire to lay violent hands on someone it might be prudent of you to absent yourselves with some haste.
Not you!
” he concluded in a stern voice as his brother made to quit the room hard on his friends’ heels.

Once Jeremy was again settled in a chair, Mannering, hands again clasped behind his back in a well-known gesture of deep contemplation, began to pace up and down the carpet, giving voice to his thoughts.

“Sir Alexander will not take kindly to our sad misuse of his granddaughter. With both his sons dead, and without issue until you showed up, madam, he cannot but feel quite protective of you. It is already too late to remove you to an inn and pretend ignorance of your existence. By now, thanks to my servants, I am sure all the world and his wife knows, if not precisely
who
you are, at least enough to place us all well and truly, as Billy might say, in the suds.

“No, madam, I confess I can see no way out of our dilemma save one.” Turning to bow deeply from the waist in her direction, he ended flatly, “Miss Saxon, from this moment on you are to consider yourself my affianced bride.”

The Earl’s words at last seemed to score a direct hit on Miss Saxon’s composure. Jumping at once to her feet she shrieked, “Are you daft, man?”

Mannering took a twig from Miss Saxon’s tree. “Daft, madam? Surely not. Dismayed, maybe. Depressed, most assuredly. But
daft
? Why, Miss Saxon, have you not heard of honor among gentlemen?”

“But—but,” Alexandra blustered, “that’s totally medieval!”

“And that, madam, describes your grandfather to a cow’s thumb—medieval. Other than to fall on my sword in the home wood, I see no other way out of our dilemma but an immediate marriage. No less would satisfy your grandfather.”

“Er—um—
I
could many her, Nick,” Jeremy offered weakly.

At this, Mannering’s lips twitched appreciatively. “Why, Jeremy, that is very noble of you, truly it is. But I think not.”

“Oh, thank you, Nick,
thank you!
” his brother exhaled gratefully. Then at Nicholas’s arch look, he turned to Alexandra and tried to redeem himself in her eyes. “Not—not that it wouldn’t have been my honor, my very
great
honor, to have wed you, ma’am. It’s just that I’m only down from school because of some minor fracas and I’m due back right after the holidays. So you can see how that would be quite difficult to manage were I leg-shackled—er—
married
to you. It wouldn’t really
do
, don’t you know. Besides,” he added lamely as his brother began to chuckle, “I ain’t really in the petticoat line.”

“Calm yourself, infant, I have no doubt you mean well, but your every word digs the pit around you deeper, and I fear much more shoveling on your part would put you completely underground. Besides, I don’t believe your sacrifice would be acceptable to Sir Alexander. It’s the head of the house he’ll seek satisfaction from on this one.”

“He can shoot the pips out of a playing card at twenty paces, old as he is,” Jeremy added sorrowfully to Alexandra. “Wouldn’t do to set him up in the boughs.”

Now Alexandra began to pace, her dark curtain of hair flowing behind her as she fairly stomped about the room. Clearly she was incensed. “Now look here,” she stated at last, “this is all a tempest in a teapot. I’m only here because I promised Chas I’d come see the old curmudgeon. I never said I was planning to
settle
in this benighted country. I’m an American, I’ve neither the desire nor the need to live under my grandfather’s roof. Besides,” she added heatedly, “no one tells me what to do. Not my mother when she was alive, not Chas, not m’grandfather, and sir, most assuredly,
not you!
”

There came the sound of one pair of hands clapping. “That was a splendid show of ‘Yankee spunk,’ Miss Saxon,” Mannering drawled wryly, “but I, alas, do not for a minute believe a word of it. Chas, as you persist in calling your late father, would not have deemed it necessary to send you here at all if you were well situated in Philadelphia.”

Alexandra let out her pent up breath in a frustrated sigh. “All right, lord smarty-pants, you win. If my grandfather refuses to own me, I’ll be spending the night under the hedgerows for I am completely without funds. That in itself is bad enough. But to have to beg charity is one thing; to be forced into marriage for the sake of someone’s ridiculous sense of honor is just too much. I‘d rather starve!”

Taking in the lady’s militant stance (not to mention the Indian’s menacing glare), Linton decided to pour a little judicious oil on the troubled waters. God knew he was no happier about the situation than was Miss Saxon, but once in her grandfather’s presence the chit might be made to see that marriage was the only solution to their problem.

Once he had presented the idea that they immediately adjourn to Saxon Hall, Alexandra agreed to that plan of action with alacrity. “But Harold comes along. Chas was adamant that he never leave my side,” she said emphatically.

“Harold?” Jeremy spluttered, aghast. “Your Indian’s name is
Harold
? Oh, never say so, ma’am, it’s just too altogether ordinary to be borne.”

The black-faced man-mountain took three quick steps in the young scoffer’s direction before Jeremy fairly bolted from the room, promising to have Nicholas’s carriage brought round directly.

Chapter Two

O
nce they were settled in the carriage—Miss Saxon and Lord Linton sitting across from each other on the squabs maintaining an uneasy peace, and Harold sitting up behind the horses, massive arms crossed over his chest, coolly eyeing one truly nervous Linton coachman—Nicholas gave the order to drive on.

Miss Saxon showed her distaste for conversation by keeping her head averted, shamming instead an extraordinary interest in the bare November landscape, while Lord Linton assessed her yet again with his discerning eye. Quite a looker, he admitted to himself reluctantly, not that her physical appearance lessened or heightened the chit’s degree of compromise a whit—but at least the next generation of Mannerings need not fear going through life with humped noses or the curse of a decided squint.

It is amazing, he reflected as he watched the thin sunlight set off answering glimmers in Miss Saxon’s truly glorious mane of hair, how I could go to bed one night a dedicated bachelor and find myself committed to marriage before luncheon of the following day. Ah well, so much for resolutions. I might beat dear Helene to the altar after all—I wonder if it is socially acceptable to marry before the woman who jilted you can sweep her way down the aisle of St. George’s?

This self-satisfying thought caused a small smile to come to his lips, and feeling a bit more charitable toward the young woman just then staring out the off-window with an intensity that would make a person believe she had never seen an apple orchard before, he decided to make an attempt at polite conversation.

As to a topic, Nicholas had no need to stretch his imagination—the estimable Harold certainly would do for a start. So thinking, he cleared his throat and ventured, “Miss Saxon? I hope I do not intrude on some profound thought, but I admit to a small curiosity about your traveling companion. Do you feel you could perhaps satisfy this unseemly indulgence of nosiness?”

Alexandra, although she would never admit to it, had been feeling more and more apprehensive with each turn of the carriage wheels that brought her closer to her initial meeting with her grandfather. What if he turned her away from his door without so much as a hearing? It was bad enough when she only had to consider how well he would accept her existence. To be handed a further blow to the family escutcheon in the form of her being so featherbrained as to make her presence known in the area by sleeping in entirely the wrong bed was certainly pushing her luck.