Chapter Fifteen

A lice could not have imagined any such situation as the one she now found herself in. A single lady living with a bachelor in a grand yet dilapidated house.

Not to mention in extremely immoral circumstances.

If anyone ever found out the unusual arrangement, even a letter of recommendation from the Archbishop of Westminster himself could not save her reputation.

At first, she was determined to keep Adam from returning to her bed. However, he was such a rum duke of a man and, as she’d discovered, so charming, he was irresistible. It was much more than that, however she hated to examine the way he had taken up residence in her heart. That was too terrifying.

They spent their days working on small projects no one else wanted to tackle, silly things like pruning the rose bushes and fixing the garden trellis. When they took a break, it was so she could show him more of her beloved library. They ate with the others, played card games and riddles in the dining room since it was the only one with enough chairs, and then retired to their separate rooms.

After the first night, though, Adam crept to her door when the house was quiet, having learned the way in the dark.

With no maid to disturb them in the morning by opening curtains and bringing tea, Alice didn’t worry they would be discovered. Thus, when he fell asleep in her bed after swiving, she allowed him to stay. Eventually, when they did awaken with the sun, she sent him back to his own room.

Nearly a fortnight went by with the same behavior. Her heart was full of joy because of him, and she wished they could remain hidden in Caversham. However, due to his serious expression one sunny day when he was observing her shelling peas for Mrs. Georgie on the veranda, she knew.

“Something is wrong,” she said.

As if they were married, he leaned in and dropped a kiss upon her lips before picking a fresh raw pea from the bowl and popping it into his mouth.

“Not exactly. But I shall have to return to London soon.”

Her heart fell. Her stomach seemed to drop with it. Before him, for two years, she had been used to a life of solitude, teaching the Beasley girls and expecting nothing else but her books and the occasional free concert in the park.

Now, however, she had let herself grow used to Adam’s company. His tender lovemaking, his wicked humor, his beloved eyes.

She swallowed the lump of sadness, recalling how his life and the promise of a sweet future was ahead of him. And hers was lost in the mire of the past when she’d made more than one mistake.

“Come with me, Alice. Marry me. You know how I feel. We are perfect together.”

Her hands started to shake as she lowered the bowl to her lap. Tears blurred her vision.

For a second, she let herself think about being his wife. But only for a second. As soon as she was recognized as the former Lady Fairclough, too many questions would be asked. Richard’s brother would once again take up his former hostile threats and his unreasonable demands for money.

How could she drag Adam into any of that? She couldn’t, not when she loved him beyond measure.

Moreover, if she tried to explain her reluctance, tell him of her feelings, he would demand to know everything. He would want to know why the woman who had given away her heart wouldn’t give him her hand as well. And when she disclosed the entire ugly truth, then she would see the respect and admiration leach from his gaze.

Alice couldn’t bear to have him look at her with disdain.

Better to send him on his way, back to his upstanding family and his untarnished life in London. So why was she selfishly taking the hand he held out to her?

Adam drew her to her feet, and the bowl fell to the floor, scattering the peas.

Mrs. Georgie would be annoyed.

He made her face him, and a few tears spilled over.

“Lady Alice Malcolm Jeffrey, will you do me the honor of becoming my Lady Diamond? I can keep you in the manner to which you are familiar,” he gestured around them.

Despite crying, his words made her laugh, too. Then she hiccupped, making him smile.

“Adamare,” she whispered.

“Am I?” he asked, running a thumb across her cheek to catch a tear.

“Most definitely that name fits, a passionate lover . I cannot imagine how anyone could be more giving than you.”

“Are you accepting my proposal now that we know one another better?”

Putting her hands upon his cheeks, she drew his head down so she could kiss him. Slowly, she tilted her head as he had taught her, fitting her lips against his, breathing him in as she opened her mouth to taste him.

His hands came around her back, dragging her close against him.

Time stood still as they kissed. She needed nothing more than that to be happy.

Finally, Alice pulled away, wishing she could take her heart back from him because it already ached with loss.

“I hope that was a kiss telling me yes,” he said.

His deep blue eyes were joyful, reminding her of a beautiful September sky.

“I am sorry,” she said, slipping from his hold and running into the house.

Luckily, no one was around as she ran up the back stairs and to her room. She half-expected Adam to follow, so she wasn’t surprised when she heard a knock.

“I cannot,” was all she said.

“It’s me, m’lady,” came Mrs. Georgie’s voice.

“I am ... not feeling well at present,” Alice called out softly.

“I know all about that,” the cook said. “May I come in, anyway?”

Mrs. Georgie had never asked to enter her room before. Despite feeling wretched, Alice was curious.

Wiping her face on her sleeves, she opened the door. In an instant, she was enfolded in the cook’s arms.

Unfortunately, that caused her tears to fall faster. But Mrs. Georgie only gave her a minute to wallow in self-pity. And then she set her away.

“Don’t be a ninny,” she told Alice firmly.

“What do you mean?” She sniffed and dug in her pocket for a handkerchief.

“That young man wants to marry you.”

“How did you know?” Alice asked. The servants’ grapevine must work on a steam engine!

Mrs. Georgie shook her head. “It doesn’t matter how I know. Why won’t you accept him? It’s as plain as the nose on your face that you love him.”

Alice touched her nose unthinkingly. “I wish I could, but it’s impossible.”

“And why is that? You’re a widow, but still a young woman. I know you’re not grieving that arse you married.”

“For one thing, Lord Diamond is going to be an earl someday. He needs a fresh, new lady who has never been married.”

“Not true at all. I don’t know much, but even kings and queens marry widows and widowers. Besides, that’s for his lordship to decide.”

“No,” Alice said, starting to pace the room, glad for once it was empty because it gave her space to walk. “I must decide for both of us because ... because ...”

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Mayhap I can help you see clearly how to leave the past where it belongs. I know you would rather have your mother —”

“God, no!” Alice exclaimed. Not that she held anyone to blame except herself, but her distant, indifferent parents had turned out not to stand behind her, nor even beside her, when problems arose. She’d fended for herself when she had most needed support.

“I should have confided in you the first time Fairclough came to this house,” Alice said. “He followed me from London after ... well, after we were discovered alone, only kissing, mind you,” she added, not wanting the cook to think badly of her. “He had done the honorable thing, or so I thought, and asked for my hand. Then my parents had whisked me back here, most likely so I wouldn’t reconsider marrying a stranger, nor discover more about his less-than ideal nature.”

Mrs. Georgie shook her head. “We didn’t have as close a friendship as we have now,” she reminded her. “But I wish I had told you I thought the man had tiny, beady, untrustworthy eyes even then.”

“He did, but I didn’t notice until too late. And my mother thought him extremely handsome.”

“Pish!” Mrs. Georgie said. “Your former husband was like an ogre compared to Lord Diamond.”

That wasn’t exactly true, but it made Alice smile for the first time. Her mother was a terrible judge of character and had passed that trait down to her only daughter — until it was too late.

“I wish I had come to the kitchen, asked to peel some potatoes, and had a chat with you. My life would be so different.”

“You probably wouldn’t have listened to me then, but I hope you listen now. Your life can still be different. Take the chance that nice gentleman is offering you.”

“I wish that I could.”

“Then tell me why you cannot.” Mrs. Georgie sounded heated. “I am no fool, and neither is Lord Diamond. If it’s because you were previously wed, that’s no matter. He doesn’t care about that, so why should you?”

“In London, I was threatened by my husband’s brother.” Alice hated hearing the words out loud.

Mrs. Georgie frowned. “What kind of threats?”

“Frightening ones about how Richard died. I swear I had nothing to do with it, except ...”

“Except for what, m’lady?”

“Wishing it would happen. Praying, in fact, nightly for some way to be free of him.” Her voice broke, remembering her desperation.

Mrs. Georgie shook her head. “You cannot credit your hopes and prayers with a man’s death.”

“If I return to London and Fairclough’s brother discovers me, I don’t know what he will do.”

“The Fairclough brothers already stripped this home of everything of value —”

“Not our books,” Alice reminded her.

“Except for the books, because the men they sent were too stupid to realize their worth, and because we stood at the door of the library with guns and knives drawn.”

“Did you?” Alice’s eyes widened with wonder.

“Yes!” Mrs. Georgie said proudly.

Alice hugged her again. “I had no idea.”

“I knew you would be back, even after your parents moved away.” This time Mrs. Georgie’s voice cracked with emotion. “I was shocked at how they left.”

Alice couldn’t say the same. Her parents held no great sentiment for the country home that had passed down to Alice from her grandfather and his father before him. Even though she’d been in London, she knew her parents felt a sense of relief when everything had been taken, forcing them to move. The burden of Stonely Grange had been lifted.

“Then how can I possibly go away again? How can I leave you all who stood by to protect our home?”

Mrs. Georgie shook her head. “Marry that young man. Don’t let the Faircloughs spoil anything more for you. Maybe someday, you’ll decide to refurbish this place. Then come back and we’ll be here.”

Alice started to think she ought to take the wise cook’s advice. After all, Adam was nothing like Richard. He had already spent many more hours telling her and showing her how he felt. There was still another concern.

“What if his family doesn’t like me?”

Mrs. Georgie tucked a stray wisp of hair behind Alice’s ear.

“No worries about that, m’lady. Everyone has always liked you, some too much, and that was your problem. You didn’t gather the wheat into the garner and burn up the useless chaff.” She stroked her cheek. “Lord Diamond is the wheat.”

“I know.” Alice wanted to give in beyond anything. Could she really take a chance that Gerald would leave her alone? After all, it had been two years since she’d fled.

“Besides,” Mrs. Georgie added, “now that you’ve fallen in love, and I’ve seen how happy you are, I cannot let you be a dried-up governess again. Go be Lady Diamond, as you were born to be.”

The next tap upon the door, which was still open, proved to be Adam, his beloved face coming around the opening.

“I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“You didn’t, m’lord. You are in the right place,” Mrs. Georgie told him, “and just in time.”

Adam knew he liked the cook. Whatever she had said to Alice, she’d changed something . How Mrs. Georgie could shift his lady-love from being dead set against marrying him to melting into his arms and agreeing to consider being his wife, he didn’t know. Yet the woman had done it.

“We must have another discussion,” Alice said when they were seated together on her bed, a place Adam preferred to every other place in the house, perhaps in the entire world.

“I am not certain you have thought about this all the way through,” she said, sounding more like a governess than a lover. “I ought not to marry you, you understand.”

“Why not?” he asked, leaning over to nuzzle her neck.

“You will be an earl,” she reminded him, pushing ineffectually at his shoulder. “Don’t you want an heir? If so, then you should look to someone like the dewy Lady Susanne.”

“Are you saying you are too old to bear children?” He laughed. “I would have to gainsay you, Alice, for my mother was older than you when she bore the last two of my sisters.”

She shook her head. “But what if I cannot?”

“What if pigs can talk and horses can fly?” he asked.

She sighed at his nonsense. Adam grasped her hand and fell backward onto the mattress taking her with him.

“I am an uncle to two boys already. The Diamond earldom shall not die out, and if Clarity’s son became the next earl, then finally, we would have a family name different from our titled name. Viscount Hollidge, the Earl Diamond. It has a pleasant enough sound to it.”

She turned to look him in the eyes.

“Are you saying you don’t mind if the earldom slips from you to your sister’s family?”

“My sister’s family is my family. We are all one. You will learn that when you become a Diamond. It wouldn’t matter if it were Clarity’s son or Purity’s son. They are all my blood, and I’m sure either would make fine earls. I honestly don’t see the difference, although right now, they are both naughty, mischievous boys. And so was I, once.”

Her eyes widened to saucers. Adam knew she’d never heard of a titled nobleman being so cavalier about his primogeniture rights. But he was surprised by her look of utter disbelief.

“My late husband made certain of my virginity,” she said.

Adam wished he didn’t have to think of her with Fairclough, but he simply nodded. It was a common practice when there was a title or a fortune involved.

“He told me he had to be certain any issue came from his seed,” she added.

Adam winced. It would do no good to be jealous of a dead man, something he had to keep reminding himself.

“Fortunately, there were none,” Alice said. “And that begs the question, was he unable to have children, or is my body barren?”

“If he drank a lot as you said—” Adam began, thinking the man probably had a lobcock at best.

Suddenly she smiled. “It wasn’t only that. He and I were hardly ever intimate. I vow you and I have already swived more than occurred over the course of my entire marriage. He was exhausted from drink and too spent from his mistress.”

Fairclough was a fool. Adam had been with mistresses, and none compared to the satisfaction he found with Alice.

“If you have your regular monthly courses, then the problem was probably with him.” He shrugged at her querying look. “Four sisters,” he reminded her. “But as I said, it doesn’t matter.”

She closed her eyes, and he held his breath, awaiting her answer. Finally, she squeezed his hand.

“If you truly mean what you say, then I am deeply relieved. You have caused most of my misgivings to vanish.”

Adam squeezed her hand in return. “Then you agree, we shall wed?”

“Lord Diamond, you are an incredible man. I can only hope I am worthy of your confidence.”

He decided to strike while the branding iron was scalding hot.

“In order to travel back to London together, and to raise no questions about how we’ve ... um ... kept company these past weeks,” he said, “would you be averse to marrying here, now?”

“I am not bothered where or when,” Alice said. “However, your family may feel cheated.”

“My parents have already enjoyed my older sisters’ two extravagant weddings and expect two more. They won’t mind missing one. Besides, they themselves eloped to Gretna Green.”

“Did they?” Another look of astonishment.

He nodded, liking that wild and wicked fact about the Earl and Countess Diamond when he’d learned of it a few years before.

“What about a marriage contract and a dowry, which I don’t have, not to mention a house I cannot give you since this one legally must remain with me or my children?”

“Children,” he repeated. “Think of the fun we shall have trying for them.”

Despite still trying to lead him to Fiddlestick’s end and throw up opposition, she laughed.

“If you are in agreement, my lady, then I shall send word to the Bishop of Oxford and procure us a license.”

“You say that as if you know him personally,” Alice mused.

“When he was merely the Dean of Westminster, just before he was appointed bishop by Sir Peel, Wilberforce dined at my parents’ home, and I was in attendance. We got on very well despite my barely being twenty. We are lucky your home is in his diocese. He will allow us license to marry in your local parish church, and I shall pay for a feast for all of your friends . After that, I will take you home.”

“Home,” she repeated.

He detected the uncertainty in her voice. “I have a modest townhouse on Arlington Street.”

Her eyes widened. “There is nothing modest about the homes on that street.”

“Compared to my parents’ home on Piccadilly, I think of it as such. We shall settle in for a day, and then I will introduce you. They shall want to throw a party, of course. And you’ll meet all my sisters and my two brothers-in-law. Nice fellows. Did you know we have a country estate in Derby? Not quite as spiffy as yours, for it’s a little more crowded, both with people and chairs.”

“Don’t tease,” she said, pinching him through his shirt and coat.

“I won’t. After all, devoid as your house is of furnishings, I’ve spent the happiest time of my life right here with you.”

“And I, you,” she said. “The small bed helped bring us together.”

He laughed. “We should never have a bigger one.”