Chapter 14

Fourteen

“ S ick!” The heavy silk of her gown swooshed around her ankles as Aurora crossed the room in some haste. “Why, you are never sick.”

“I am on occasion. If you will remember, I was sick when you decided to set out for Scotland.” Miss Robertson pulled her wrapper tighter and took another sip of tea from the tray on her lap. “And as you keep so vociferously reminding me, you were able to manage everything quite well on your own. So I imagine that for a single evening, my company will not be missed.” A mournful sigh followed. “Though I was so looking forward to the fireworks.”

Aurora’s eyes narrowed in some suspicion. “What a corker,” she muttered under her breath as she began to pace before the hearth. “You hate loud noises.”

“Ah, but I find I’ve become used to them over the last little while.” Her former governess regarded her with a look of great innocence, then added a hacking cough for good measure.

“In that case, we could always postpone it to another time.”

“That would be a rather churlish thing to do, as Alex has already gone to the trouble of arranging the trip, and will be arriving any minute now.” Miss Robertson fiddled with the blanket covering her knees. “However, as it seems your nerves are all in a twitter about spending the whole evening alone with him, I suppose you may be allowed to cry off.”

The pacing stopped and her chin came up in a stubborn tilt. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am not the least affected by the prospect of His Lordship’s company—with or without your presence. After all, he and I have managed to put personal feelings aside and stick to our agreement to behave civilly to each other. This outing should prove no exception.” She turned her back to the burning logs and tried to ignore the hiss and crackle of her own emotions at the idea of being together with Alex for hours, just the two of them. “The only explosions this evening will be of the gunpowder variety.”

Miss Robertson ducked her head to hide a small smile. “Well, in that case, you might want to extinguish the sparks in your eyes..”

Before she could fire off a retort, a discreet knock sounded on the door and the butler entered. “Lord Woodbridge has arrived.”

Snatching up her shawl and reticule from one of the side chairs, Aurora made to quit the room.

“Why, aren’t you going to invite him in for a glass of sherry before you set out?” asked Miss Robertson. “It’s a rather long carriage ride out to Vauxhall Gardens.”

Aurora’s hand came to rest on her hip. “What?” she intoned with exaggerated surprise. ”And run the risk of having the earl catch your catarrh?”

A prolonged fit of coughing followed. “Quite right. Well, do enjoy yourself, my dear.”

Ha! Aurora arranged the folds of India silk over her bare shoulders and restrained the urge to behave like an unruly schoolgirl and stick out her tongue at her former governess. The last thing she expected was to enjoy the coming outing.

But as she descended from the elegant carriage at their destination, Aurora had to admit that so far, the evening was not proving nearly as dreadful as she had feared. In fact, the journey in close proximity with Alex had been quite pleasant, and had passed almost too quickly. A bit of their former easy banter had been recaptured as they exchanged their various impressions of London, from the latest exhibit at the Royal Academy to the shops on Bond Street to the daily promenade of people in the parks.

Alex had appeared perfectly content to avoid all mention of personal matters. His manner was friendly but distant, and he seemed not to be the slightest perturbed at finding himself alone with her. Indeed, it was clear that her presence had no effect on him at all.

She wished the same might be said for herself. He looked so impossibly handsome in his elegant black evening clothes and starched linen that she hardly dared venture a glance in his direction, for fear of how easily he would see the true state of her feelings.

He offered his arm and escorted her to the private box he had reserved for their late supper. Her chair was pulled out with a gallant flourish, then he seated himself next to her, close enough that his thigh brushed up against hers with disquieting frequency. Shaved ham and champagne appeared, and the conversation continued to flow as freely as the sparkling wine. Aurora could almost imagine that they were a normal married couple, out for a romantic evening under the stars.

So why did she feel that at any moment she was going to burst into tears?

Because, she reminded herself, this storybook chapter would soon come to an end. The pages would snap shut, proving that heroes and love and other such romantic nonsense were no more substantial than a thin coating of ink on paper. Her appetite suddenly deserted her and she merely sipped from her glass, wishing that the bubbly effervescence might have some effect on her depressed spirits.

Alex appeared not to notice her mood.

“Shall we take a stroll, sir?” She gestured to the graveled walks that led off to section of the pleasure gardens lay in deep shadows. “I imagine the fireworks would be even more visible in an area where there are not so many lights.”

His mouth crooked in an odd smile. “The darkened paths of Vauxhall are considered a rather risky place for a lady to venture.”

“Why is that?”

“They are infamous as a place where lovers meet and passions flare up with all the intensity of the display soon to take place overhead.”

Aurora turned quickly so that he might not see the sparks of longing in her eyes. “Well,” she said lightly. “There is little danger of me inspiring any strong emotion in your breast, sir, unless it be great relief that I will soon be gone from your life.”

Alex said nothing, but tucked her arm more firmly under his and turned toward the looming shadows.

Other couples strolled in the same direction, but quickly disappeared among the labyrinth of trees and tall hedges. They soon found themselves alone and walked on for a bit in silence, save for the crunch of their own steps upon the deserted path. Perhaps on account of his words, Aurora was acutely aware of the heat emanating through the fine melton wool of his sleeve. It caused flames to lick up deep inside her and a small shudder to race up her spine.

“Is it too chilly here?” inquired Alex politely. “Do you wish to return to the box?”

“No,” she lied. “I’m quite comfortable.”

A jerk of her shoulders nearly belied her words as his fingers came up to adjust her shawl. This was madness, to let the merest graze of his touch set her afire, she told herself. With an quick tug at the knotted fringe, she caused his hand to fall away. “You needn’t trouble, sir.”

His eyes lingered on the considerable amount of bare flesh that her low cut bodice revealed and it seemed that a glimmer of humor lurked within their sapphire depth. “No trouble at all. I simply thought that as you are unused to Town fashion, you might require a little assistance in warding off the effects of night air.”

She was having precious little success in warding off the effects that his husky baritone was having on her person, for it was definitely not the night air that was causing a rosy flush to steal over every inch of exposed skin. Grateful that the dearth of lanterns masked her reaction, Aurora gave a slight toss of her curls. “I am not nearly so delicate as a proper London belle, sir, so it is unlikely that I will suffer any dire consequences from a brief walk on a mild evening.”

They walked on for a few more steps before he spoke again. “Have you enjoyed your stay in London?”

”Oh, yes!” The sharp tone of her previous words gave way to a wistful note. ”Even more than I imagined. It has been nearly overwhelming, with so many new sights and experiences?—”

“Such as Lady Sedgewick’s ball? Did you enjoy that as well?”

“I did,” she said softly. “I must admit, I have always had a silly, schoolgirlish desire to attend such a grand fete.” A wry grimace flitted across her face. “And thanks to your thoughtfulness, I managed not to make a complete cake of myself with my appearance or my footwork. I-I should have been mortified if I had put either you or Jack to the blush by revealing how out of place I really was.”

“With a gown like that, you had little need to worry that any gentleman would seek to find fault with you,” he replied dryly. “And you danced very well. But then again, you had a good deal of practice, for I don’t believe you sat down for even one set.”

Aurora blinked several times. “I am amazed you noticed anything about my activities,” she said without thinking. “Your attention seemed to be engaged elsewhere.”

It was his turn to look surprised.

“She was wearing burgundy, and you appeared to be intoxicated by the sight.”

“Ah. Lady Talbott.” He paused to smooth a crease in his cravat. “I knew her in Calcutta. Her husband passed away from a tropical fever six months ago and she has only recently returned to England

“How very convenient. No wonder you had little desire to waltz with anyone else—” Aurora bit off the rest of her words and turned away, her face flooding with embarrassment. How could she have blurted out such a stupid thing?

Alex looked startled, then amused. “Are you perchance a touch … jealous?”

“J-jealous?” To her dismay, the scoff came out as little more than a squeak. “Don’t be a-absurd. Of course I was not—” Her throat suddenly became so tight that further speech was impossible.

Alex had come to an abrupt halt and his hand had slipped to the small of her back, pulling her around to face him. His eyes seemed to have taken on a strange glitter. “No?” he whispered close to her ear. “Well, I was sorely tempted to plant Jack a facer on seeing him take you up in his arms.”

Aurora found she could only stare at him in mute disbelief.

The faint strains of music drifted out on the zephyr of a breeze and suddenly Alex took up her hand. “Come, you have reminded me that we have never danced together, madame wife.” He spun her in a slow circle, throwing her senses so off kilter that the ground seemed to moving in an altogether different direction than her body. A wave of dizziness washed over her, along with the bemused realization that for the first time in her life, she might actually discover what it was like to be in need of a strong whiff of vinaigrette.

As if sensing the danger, his arms tightened, forcing her legs to straighten and her chin to come up. Their eyes met, and for an instant, all she was aware of was the exact shade of his eyes, and how much she would miss every subtle curve and contour of his countenance, even the irritating little arch of his brow and twist of his lip when he was annoyed with her.

With a stifled cry, she tore her gaze away and stared out into the murky shadows. That was what the future held, she reminded herself. Nothing but a drab darkness, devoid of any sparkle or color. Most especially any hue remotely resembling sapphire blue.

To her relief, Alex seemed no more inclined to speak than she was. There was silence, save for the gentle rustle of the leaves and the sliding rhythm of their steps. Recovering some measure of composure, Aurora sought to savor the rest of the waltz. It was highly unlikely she would ever have a chance to repeat the experience, so it was best to concentrate on remembering every last detail—the feel of his gloved fingers entwined with hers, the subtle scent of bay rum and leather, the touch of?—

Her experience with balls and waltzes was, she knew, exceedingly limited, but even so, she knew enough to sense that his thighs were suddenly pressing much too close for propriety. A moment later, they were molded hard up against hers. As her bodice was crushed against the lapels of his coat, she opened her mouth to murmur some sort of protest.

His lips came down hard upon hers as the first rocket exploded in the sky. The thunderous bang drowned out her cry of passion and his answering groan. A shower of sparks lit up the sky, but the display was nothing in comparison to the pyrotechnics taking place between them. Set afire by the heat of his kisses, she cried out again, then melted into him.

“Sweeting,” he said in a hoarse murmur. “Ahhh, sweeting.” His mouth trailed down the swell of her breast and closed hungrily over the thin silk covering her nipple.

Aurora gave a muffled gasp at the burst of pleasure that shot through her insides. Lost to all reason, her fingers began to wreak havoc on the precise folds of his cravat as they fumbled with the fastenings of his shirtfront. One of them released, allowing her hand to slip inside the fine linen and splay against his bare chest.

“Oh, Alex,” she whispered, her palm brushing over the dark curls. This might be madness, she knew, but she could no more douse the flames of her need than she could stop the rain of sparks in the heavens above.

His head came up at the sound of his name. She said it again, and all at once they were locked in another passionate embrace, clinging to each other as if they could somehow grab hold of all the time they had missed together.

Eyes ablaze, Alex stopped his kisses long enough to carry her up against the nearest tree. His mouth then sought a more torrid intimacy as he straddled her legs and began to ruck her skirts up past her knees.

Aurora arched back, savoring the wickedly wonderful feeling of being wanted by a man. And not just by any man, but by Alex. If she was not grossly mistaken, what was about to happen was not so different from one of the illustrations in his well-traveled little book, and anticipation simmered up inside her. Spicy indeed! She kneaded the corded muscles of his shoulders, thinking she would not mind a steady diet of Indian fare. Surely it was not so very wrong to hunger for his ambrosial kisses and whispered endearments.

He was, after all, still her lawfully wedded husband.

A bittersweet smile stole to her lips as she reached down to help him with the fastening of his breeches. Perhaps it was only for a short while longer, but in the meantime?—

A group of drunken young bucks stumbled out from around a tall privet hedge. A titter of laughter shattered her reverie, followed by more than a few ribald comments. It seemed like an age to her before their steps retreated back toward another path as they called out more lewd suggestions, ones that made clear exactly what sort of female they thought she was.

Aurora broke away with a strangled sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Indeed, what else could they think of a female who had been about to let a man toss her skirts in the bushes of a public venue? Her hands came up over her cheeks and she was dismayed to find they were burning hotter than a Madras curry. Good Lord, she hardly knew what to think of herself. Why, since meeting Alex, it was as if she had become an entirely different person from the steady, sensible Aurora Sprague she had been all her life.

And what was he thinking? Was it his opinion, too, that she was no better than a lightskirt? Is that what had whetted his appetite?

The very thought cut through her like a knife.

“I think it best if you take me home immediately, sir,” she said in a unsteady voice, turning her back as much to hide her confusion and embarrassment as to attempt to put some order to her disheveled clothing.

It was of some consolation to see that Alex appeared as shaken as she was. His hand raked through his tousled locked and his jaw betrayed a slight tremor as he made several attempts to speak. Finally, after a harried sigh and some fumbling to reknot his cravat and retrieve his stud, he merely gave a curt nod. “As you wish.”

Taking her hand, he guided her back to where the carriages waited, taking great care to skirt the more populous areas, where a crowd still lingered. He paused only long enough to give a terse order to coachman before helping her up into the darkened interior. As soon as the door was pulled closed, the whip snapped in the air, signaling the horses to spring forward.

Hell’s Teeth, he cursed. Had he really been behaved like a randy donkey and tried to mount his wife in the middle of Vauxhall Garden? She must truly think him an ass! No—she must think him a louse! Alex leaned his head back against the squabs, thankful that the interior lamps had been left unlit and the curtains were still drawn, so that his grimace of self-loathing was hidden from view.

So much for tactics and strategy, he thought glumly. Had he still been in the army, such a cow-handed blunder would have resulted in his carcass being left as pickings for the vultures. It did little to improve his frame of mind to think that once Miss Robertson got through with him, his fate might exactly the same.

The darkness, though it served as a welcome cloak to cover his own emotions, made it impossible to discern Aurora’s expression. She had settled in the opposite corner, as far away from him as possible. Not even the hem of her skirt brushed against him and her head was turned toward the door, despite the lack of a view.

May Lucifer be roasted. He could only imagine what she was thinking.

A moment of further reflection brought the slow realization that he couldn’t possibly imagine what she was thinking. Nor, he added with an inward wince, would he want to.

His own thoughts were bad enough.

Not only had he lost any chance of winning her regard—not to speak of her heart—but he had botched it in such an unforgivable manner. He fell to massaging his temples. A straw pallet could, he supposed, have been forgiven, considering the circumstances. But if he were going to attempt to seduce his own wife a second time, why the devil hadn’t he done it in the proximity of shimmering candlelight, crisp linen sheets and a well-padded bed?

It was what she deserved, to have her glorious limbs stretched out on the wide expanse of his carved tester bed. Their carved tester bed. At least it was for a little while longer. Damnation. He gave a silent oath as the realization washed over him that he didn’t have to seduce her. He could have simply carried her up to his own comfortable bedchamber.

It suddenly occurred to Alex that he was an idiot as well as a louse.

His thoughts were still running in such a depressing direction when they reached the cobbled streets of Mayfair. For a moment he nearly lost his nerve and considered abandoning his original plan. There were limits to how much of a fool a gentleman wished to appear in the course of a single night, even a gentleman in love. But then, with a wry purse of his lips, he decided there was really nothing to lose by going on with it. How could he sink any lower in her estimation? Besides, Miss Robertson would likely send someone to chop his shaking legs off at the knees if he lost his courage and made a cowardly retreat.

The carriage came to a halt. Alex threw open the door and helped Aurora down. She blinked several times, just as much from confusion as from the need to adjust her eyes to the flickering streetlights after the pitch black of the carriage interior. For the first time since leaving Vauxhall Gardens, she spoke.

“W-here are we?” she demanded in a tight whisper as she stared up at imposing townhouse. “This is not?—”

Alex took hold of her hand and started up the polished stone steps. ”Please, it will only take a moment. There is something inside that … belongs to you. I would like for you to have it now, tonight, before you rush off back to your calico cat and distressed females.”

Leaving me an even more distressed gentleman, he added to himself.

She bit her lip, but followed along without further protest. Alex whisked her through the half-opened door and across the arched foyer before the startled butler could blurt out so much as a simple greeting. Their hurried steps echoed down an imposing corridor lined with gilt-framed portraits, until he finally drew her off to the right and into a small wood-paneled study.

“What is this place?” she asked again, the words hardly audible as her gaze took in the shelves of leatherbound books, the expensive Oriental carpet and the marble hearth, decorated with a detailed carving of entwined acanthus leaves.

His eyes finally met hers, their sapphire color alight with a strange glimmer. He was, he realized, more nervous than if he had been facing a thousand screaming, charging, knife-wielding Pashtu rebels bent on carving him into little pieces to float down the Ganges. Against such an attack he might fight back. Against Aurora he was defenseless—with a word she could slice his heart to ribbons.

“This is Woodbridge House,” he answered softly. “You said to take you home.”

Aurora went very pale. “I—you—” Overcome with confusion, she quickly looked away. “W-what was it you wanted me to have, sir? How can there be anything here that is mine.”

Without answering, Alex took a small leather box from the top drawer of his desk. He opened it, hesitated for a moment and then held it out to reveal what was inside. Lying on a fold of velvet was a ring of exquisite craftsmanship, the design simple but beautifully wrought. Centered in the gold detailing was a flawless emerald, flanked by two sapphires.

“I bought the sapphires in India because they seemed a kindred stone to me,” he explained. “For some reason, the emerald caught my eye as well. It seemed … a good match. The colors complemented one another—different shades, but of the same family.” He drew in a rather ragged breath. “Y-you may think of it as a reminder of our brief time together. A part of me shall always be with you, even if I am not there in person.” As he spoke, he extended his palm. “It also occurred to me that I have never given you a wedding gift.”

She made no effort to take it. In fact, her arms clasped around her chest and she turned around to face the banked fire. The gesture caused a small stab to knife through his insides.

“I know you think me a complete scoundrel.” He let his arm fall back to his side. “Lord, I have more faults than most men. I have been selfish, cowardly and callous to name but a few of them—I am sure you would have no trouble adding to the list, especially after my behavior tonight …”

A loud sniff interrupted him.

“Aurora, might you turn around?” he pleaded. ”Much as I enjoy the sight of your lovely shoulders, I shall never find the courage to finish the rest of what I want to say if it’s clear you loath me so much that you can’t bear to look at me.”

Ever so slowly, she moved to face him, though her eyes remained glued to the tips of her slippers.

Alex hadn’t realized that he had been holding his breath until it came out in a rush of relief. Swallowing hard, he dared go on. “It was as if I had been wandering in the dark until our paths crossed. You made me look at myself—and a good many other things—in a whole new light. I meant to try to make up for some of my transgressions. The reason I sought out my wife was so that I might make some sort of amends for my unforgivable neglect by granting her the freedom she deserved.”

He paused. “And so that I might be free to seek you out. I don’t know what I meant to do about Mr. Sprague, but I would have figured out something. Perhaps carried you off to India. You would, by the way, find it a most fascinating place ….” He realized he was babbling and yet couldn’t seem to stop. “I meant to offer you the ring as soon as the Runner located your whereabouts, but if you don’t like it?—”

Tears were flowing down her face. “Like it?” She wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I love it.”

“Did you say the word ‘love?’” Perhaps there was hope.

“You heard me. I love the ring.”

“Ah, the ring.” Well, it was a start.

“Yes, I love the ring. And I love the way your eyes reveal just as many facets as the cut gems. I love your courage, your strength, your sense of humor. I even love the annoying little wiggle of your brow when you are angry. Hell’s bells, I love you , Alex Fenimore. Surely you must have realized that my heart was yours from the moment you fainted dead away in my arms.”

An incredulous smile started to spread across his face. It turned to one of pure joy when she crossed the space between them and brushed a light kiss over his lips.

“I was praying that a certain barnyard animal might once again become airborne,” he murmured before taking her in his arms. The kiss that followed had a sweet, haunting tenderness, rather than the hard, burning passion of earlier in the evening.

When finally he broke it off, Alex took her face between hands and slowly traced his lips over the path her tears had left.

Such caresses only caused the drops to flow again. “Oh, dear, I am never such a watering pot,” she murmured between sniffles. “I may have need of that deuced bottle of vinaigrette yet.”

He smiled, then ran his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone. “Why the tears, sweeting?”

“It’s just that … Robbie and I must soon return home, and then I shall probably never see you again.”

“This is your home, Aurora. As you have noticed, it is a large place, with more than enough room for Robbie, an aged cook, a hobbled housekeeper and a calico cat.” He kissed her forehead. “And since your former governess will no longer be required to keep an eye on you, we will make sure she does not become too bored by having her teach our children to be as wonderful as their mother.”

“B-but what about the divorce proceedings? The papers have been filed?—”

With a roguish grin, he took the stack of foolscap that was sitting on the corner of his desk and tossed it into the fire. “Case dismissed.”

Deciding he may as well consign his pride to the flames too, he dropped to one knee. “I never thought I would be brought to this by any female. But you’ve done it. Not through manipulation, or seduction but by your compassion, your courage, your warmth and laughter. Dearest Aurora, my life will be eternally black as the deepest midnight hour if you are not there to be my shining light. Will you be my wife? This time in more than a mere sham of a marriage.”

She dropped to her knees beside him. “We have both been humbled by our pride in thinking we were content in facing the world alone. Oh, Alex, I want more than anything to be your wife?—”

He cut off the rest of her words with a thorough kiss. “You do?” he asked some minutes later.

“I do.” She gave a mischievous smile. “But this time around, now that I have said the fateful words, I trust the shock of it won’t cause you to cast up your accounts in the nearest vase.”

He laughed, then spent a goodly amount of time proving that her presence was eliciting a far different physical reaction from him than a queasy stomach.

‘You know,” he murmured as he nibbled at the lobe of her ear. “There is something to be said for proposing to one’s wife. I don’t have to suffer through the delay of having the banns read, the interminable round of engagement parties or the fuss of an elaborate ceremony. I can, in good conscience, carry you upstairs to our bedroom this instant. Which is exactly what I intend to do.”

“Mmmm. You truly wish to have and to hold me?”

His eyes were sparkling as he swept her up into his arms. “Til death do us part.”

Aurora leaned her head against his chest. “Well, amen to that, Alex Fenimore.”