What a Lady Craves (25 page)

“Well, yes, after my brother—”

Henrietta cut her off with a slight shake of her head. “He’s here, returned from India.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why we’ve come—Mama and I, that is. Poor Jane was too ill to travel.” Cecelia leaned in. “Increasing, you know. The mere idea of spending hours in a bouncing carriage made her queasy.”

“And these young ladies”—Henrietta nodded to her charges—“are his daughters.”

A broad smile spread over Cecelia’s face, and she knelt until she was on the same level as the girls. She held out her arms to them. “Well, don’t just stand there. Come and greet your auntie.”

Henrietta had to give them a small push. “They’re rather timid, since we’ve had to deal with your great-aunt—erm, your great-aunt’s cat these past few days. The older one is Helena and the younger Francesca.”

“Such lovely girls.” That was Mrs. Sanford. “Come say good day to your granny.”

Before long, and much to Lady Epperley’s consternation, the pair were ensconced in the
sitting room between their aunt and grandmama. Francesca chattered away in between bites of scone and tea sandwiches, while Helena maintained her typical reserve. Despite several efforts on Cecelia’s part to draw her out, she answered in monosyllables.

Cecelia caught Henrietta’s eye. “And where is my brother among this household full of chattering women?”

“I haven’t a clue.” Henrietta understood the real intent behind the question. Cecelia wanted to know how she’d been getting along under the same roof with her former betrothed. Not that Henrietta could offer any sort of a plain answer in front of her employer and Alexander’s mother. For that matter, she wasn’t even certain of what a plain answer might comprise. Complications, perhaps. Confusion, definitely. A tangle of emotion, memories, desire, pain … A Gordian knot, indeed.

She hadn’t seen the man since breakfast—a good thing, really, but he might remain about the house after his insistence on keeping the girls close.

“I thought he must be in residence. Was he not hurt after surviving the shipwreck? Oh, and I had hoped to hear all about it.” Cecelia’s hands flew to her face. “How frightful.”

“He was out of bed far too soon for his own good, but he’s doing well now. He only fainted the first day.”

“Fainted? Good heavens.”

“But he hasn’t had a second spell. He’s dealt with all manner of business since, notifying the captain of his ship, his investors, and what have you.” She fought to keep her tone light, as if they were exchanging tidbits of gossip in a London morning room. “And yesterday he received the Earl of Sparkmore.” Yes, and afterward …

Afterward, she’d let him under her skirts. Not that she could discuss such a thing with Cecelia. At times like this, she longed for a confidante, but a paid companion had no one other than her employer. She could never mention something like that in front of Lady Epperley, not when said lady would insist on seeing the pair of them matched.

Would that be such a bad thing?

Yes, most definitely. It would remove all agency from herself and Alexander. She’d given him her conditions. He could bloody well meet them without his aunt forcing the issue.

“Are you certain he isn’t overextending himself?” Cecelia asked.

“If he were, I could hardly say a word against it.” Henrietta lowered her voice and leaned closer. “You must imagine, under the circumstances, I try to spend as little time in his company as possible. Since you’ve come, I was hoping you might even see him home.” The better to work
out in peace the muddle Alexander had created within her.

Cecelia nodded, while worrying at her lower lip. “But …” She cast a telling glance at the girls. “But you seem to be looking after his daughters.”

The conversation was fast moving into territory that might prove difficult, should anyone else overhear. Henrietta took a few steps toward a far corner, with Cecelia following suit, like a pair of young hopefuls at their debut ball, retreating to whisper confidences. Like Cecelia was an old friend—or nearly a sister.

“Believe me,” Henrietta said, “it is not the position I applied for. Your aunt has pressed me into service for the duration of his visit. You understand why I’m eager to see him on his way?”

Cecelia’s mouth fell open. “Those little angels? Who wouldn’t want to look after them?”

Angels, indeed. Thank goodness their intimidation in the face of strangers was keeping them on their best behavior.

“Oh, it’s not the girls, so much. They’re lovely. But it was never my intention to become a governess. Although … if you take them along with you, I might offer one piece of advice.”

“What is it?”

With a glance, Henrietta determined that the girls’ attention was fully on their grandmama. Francesca had cozied up to the woman and was leaning against her arm, while Helena listened attentively to some story about their father’s childhood.

“Alexander clearly favors his younger daughter,” Henrietta whispered, “and the older one has noticed, naturally.”

Cecelia’s eyes went wide and round. “Naturally.”

“I’ve tried to convince him to treat them both the same, but he isn’t even aware he’s doing it, I don’t think.” Although after yesterday, he might at least be conscious of the situation.

“Right.” Cecelia nodded, setting the dark curls on either side of her cheeks to swaying. “I shall nag him so much, he’ll be thoroughly sick of me.”

Henrietta put out a hand. “But that’s not the way to go about it. He won’t listen if you do that.”

A sly smile formed on Cecelia’s cheeks. “It looks to me as if you haven’t forgotten a thing about dealing with my brother.”

“Oh, believe me, that is not the case at all.” If it were, they wouldn’t have shared any heated kisses, let alone last night’s encounter.

“Just keep trying, then. You’ll be back in his good graces in no time.”

At the assumption, Henrietta tamped down a wave of irritation. “You are assuming I wish to be in his good graces, when that is not the question at all. More like, he ought to be trying to get into mine.”

The moment Alexander strode into the foyer, a cacophony of feminine chatter assaulted his ears. What the devil? But then one voice distinguished itself from the tumult. Good God, he’d recognize that sound anywhere.

He stepped to where he could see into the sitting room. Yes, Cecelia and his mother, and they’d had a chance to meet the girls. Lady Epperley frowned over the chaos, her lorgnette plastered to the bridge of her nose, no doubt so she wouldn’t miss a thing she might disapprove of.

Damn it all, no. He’d known they were coming, of course. His aunt had warned him of that much, but couldn’t they have delayed their visit by a few more days? Enough to settle his affairs and get away from here?

Now that he’d recovered his health, he could have left the girls under Henrietta’s care temporarily while he sorted out his living arrangements. And if trouble had followed him from India? He might just draw that away from his family, as well. If his mother was here to see him after so many years, he could hardly rush off. But what if his very presence placed her and his sister in danger?

He clenched his teeth. By some stroke of ill luck, Cecelia looked up in time to catch his eye.

“Alexander! You needn’t pull such faces, you know.” She rocketed from her seat and threw herself at him. After a moment, she loosened her enthusiastic embrace to hold him at arm’s length and scrutinize him. “You look well. Much better than I expected.”

He would have replied the same, only Mama stood, waiting for him to plant a kiss on her cheek. In the years since he’d seen her, the wrinkles had multiplied on her forehead, and the lines about her eyes had become more deeply etched, a map of the worries the woman had lived through since her widowhood. His fault, no doubt. And his father’s for leaving the family in close financial straits on his death.

Then his girls crowded about them all, clamoring for attention. He hoisted Francesca into his arms, tempted for a moment to set her on his shoulders as he’d done so often since Marianne’s passing. But no doubt his aunt would tut over his encouraging such unbecoming behavior.

Only Henrietta held back, a crease deepening between her brows. Somehow Helena had
drifted over to her, and she put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, as if she had some need of comfort. Alexander raised his brows at the sight, but Henrietta volunteered no explanation, only a darkening look of disapproval.

What on earth had he done now?

Since their encounter last night, he’d deliberately kept himself away from her, choosing to spend the day wandering about the village on the off chance of hearing any more news of foreign sailors lurking about. Tilly’s shop remained dark and locked, which didn’t sit well, not with whomever had spooked Tilly still unaccounted for.

Cecelia curled her fingers about his arm, and her gaze darted from him to Henrietta. With a tug, she led him aside. “Do you care to tell me what happened?”

No, he didn’t care. Not at all. What’s more, it was none of her business. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You think you can fool me? I know you better than most. How is it you threw the perfect girl over?”

Francesca wriggled in his arms. “What does she mean, Papa, threw her over?”

“Nothing, dear.” With a scowl at his sister, he set Francesca down. “Why don’t you run along to Miss Upperton now?”

Cecelia arched a brow. “Miss Upperton, is it? I seem to recall a time when it was ‘Henrietta this’ and ‘Henrietta that.’ ”

How he hated that expression and that tone—insinuating as it was. “Not now and most definitely not in front of my daughters.”

“You’ve removed that obstacle, and you and I can easily nip off somewhere more private. I know
you’re
capable. According to Jane, you did it often enough at balls.” She dipped her head in Henrietta’s direction. “I cannot credit what happened.”

“Very well.” If she wasn’t going to let this go, he’d hash it out with her, or at least as far as he could, but in return he would exact his own price in information. He had not forgotten his aunt’s cryptic hints. “But not in front of Mama. Come with me.”

He led her to the drawing room, sleepy and golden in the afternoon sunlight, and closed the door behind him, trying to block out the thought of being alone in here with Henrietta. Her kisses, her sighs, her bold touch. And the memory of her intimate scent on his fingers and the feeling of her internal muscles clenching about him in climax. Christ, that had been a near thing. Near enough that he’d almost followed her to her chambers like a moonstruck idiot.

Perhaps this room wasn’t the best choice to avoid discussing his relationship with
Henrietta, past and present, but he was here now. He knew his sister, and she would not tolerate any further stalling.

Indeed, she rounded on him the moment the door swung shut. “Now that we may speak plainly, I would like you to tell me what happened in India that you married another without the slightest thought for what you left behind.”

Damn it. She would have to wade straight in, and in such forceful tones. He ought to have expected it. “I’m positive I wrote to you and Mama about the circumstances.”

“Circumstances, yes.” She waved a hand as if to brush away his old explanation. “It’s easy enough to set down in writing whatever you like. It’s another thing to give an account face to face.”

In other words, she wanted to determine whether he’d stretched the truth at any point. “What makes you think I didn’t spare Miss Upperton a thought?”

“Because I know my brother, and my brother would never have done such a thing. My brother sets the reputations of others above his own and does all he can to preserve them. Did India change you so much that you’d forgotten there was someone back here waiting for you?”

“I did not forget. I sent her a letter, as well. Apparently, she never received it, which is hardly my fault.”

“A letter? You sent her a letter?” She threw up her hands and just as quickly let them drop. “How considerate of you to let your betrothed know you’re calling off the wedding in a
letter.
”

He backed up. He couldn’t help himself. Even though somewhere behind him stood that damned piano, the sheets of the Beethoven sonata still open upon the music rack. “What choice did I have?”

“Honoring your word. My brother was always a man of his word.
Always.
”

“Perhaps that is what got me into my current predicament.” He had to be careful here. If he revealed too much, she would sink her teeth into her pursuit of the truth like a terrier.

“Yes, well, if you’d explain.”

“There are some things I’ve given my word never to reveal.” Another step, and he bumped into the bulk of the piano. The sunlight had warmed the honey-colored wood of the instrument, making it seem nearly alive. Almost as if Henrietta was in the room with them, waiting on his justification.

Cecelia crossed her arms and regarded him. “Convenient.”

“Convenient, but true.” He considered, choosing his words. “I think you’ll find I have not
changed so much. I intend to keep my silence on certain matters. You cannot sway me in that regard. Furthermore, it is because I valued another’s reputation above my own that I found myself married to Marianne.”

“A pretty enough statement, but you cannot hide behind it.”

“It is not a matter of hiding, so much as preserving reputations. Speaking of which …” Time to turn this conversation around on her. “I’ve heard a thing or two about yours.”

“My reputation?” She stepped forward, as if wading into a fistfight, but he didn’t miss the way the color drained from her cheeks. “What does
my
reputation have to do with any of it? And since when have you fallen into listening to gossip?”

He had her. She was trying to put a brave front on things by taking an aggressive stance, but there was something to their aunt’s insinuations. “I hardly think it’s gossip when our own aunt brought up the topic.”

“Our aunt? A woman who would just as soon invent gossip when what she overhears does not suit her?”

Oh, yes, there was something behind her words. Her reply didn’t even make sense. “Why should she come to me with inventions about our own family? Shouldn’t you have been married by now? During my time away, I heard you had prospects. Then I come home to find you and Mama holed up in the country.”