Page 27 of The Banished Bride
Aurora had to repress a grin. So the sardonic Major was really a romantic at heart, seeking to understand that most ethereal of human emotions. Her brow furrowed slightly at the subtitle. She had heard something of the French manuals on courtly love and chivalry written during the Middle Ages, but India …
With a shrug, she flipped to the first chapter.
Oh.Thatsort of love.
She blinked and turned the page. And then another.
Her cheeks were becoming very warm indeed. At one point she was forced to pause and turn the page upside down. Good Lord, ifthatwas what went on in India, no wonder her husband had never come back!
The women she had worked with had never been shy about discussing the more graphic aspects of married life, especially as Aurora was supposedly an experienced woman herself. But theirdescriptions seemed rather different from what was depicted in the detailed woodcuts. Looking a bit closer, she finally noticed there was some sort of text running along the bottom of the pages. Making herself a bit more comfortable on the hard crate, she began to read.
Eight
Aurora appeared so engrossed in the book she was reading that she failed to hear the faint creak of the hinges.
“Ah, how gratifying to see that you have actually obeyed my request to keep out of mischief,” murmured Alex.
Her head jerked up.
He stepped closer to the table and set down a small package of supplies wrapped in oilskin. His boots were spattered with mud, his jacket beaded with a light mizzle of drops and his body ached with the fatigue of hours in the saddle. Still, a faint smile came to his lips at the sight of her lovely neck arched in such studious concentration over the open pages. “Let me guess—the latest treatise from Mary Wollstonecraft?” he joked, making an effort to glance at the pages.
She tried to bury the volume in the folds of her skirts as two distinct spots of color rose to her cheeks. “N-no! That is, it is none of your business, sir, what sort of things I choose to r-read.”
His brows drew together, first at the sharp edge of her tone, then at the sight of a corner of the book’s weatherbeaten cover protruding from the dark muslin. It looked familiar.
Too familiar!
He reached for it, nearly causing Aurora to fall off the crate in an attempt to elude his hand. It was clear, however, that he did not mean to be denied and aside from trying to squirm away in a most undignified manner, she was left with no choice but to surrender the item in her possession.
Alex took his time in regarding the pages she had been studying, his expression of bemused puzzlement slowly heating into one of scalding anger. It was not just the discovery of the racy book among his belongings that had his cheeks taking on the same guilty hue as Aurora’s. There was a reasonable explanation for its presence among his belongings. Hidden among the graphic pictures were a set of coded ciphers, used to communicate with other clandestine agents. The trick had proved useful on more than one occasion, for an enemy searching his things had been far too distracted to recognize its real significance.
The real source of his embarrassment lay in wondering what else she had seen while rummaging through his bag. A muscle twitched, despite the clench of his jaw. There were copies of several recent letters between himself and his man of affairs that discussed his nominal wife and the terms of her quarterly allowance. Everything about them—their tone, the actual facts—would cast a less than favorable light upon him. Indeed, given her own rather strong sentiments on the subject, she would think him the worst sort of scoundrel if she had read them.
A wave of self-loathing washed over him, followed by one of righteous anger. However unwittingly, she had scraped up against a wound that was, after all these years, still raw and festering beneath the scab. It hurt even more to think it might have been exposed to her, of all people. In retaliation, he parried with a thrust at what he knew was her own vulnerable spot.
“Indian fare is rather spicy, even for a married lady.” His words were edged with a sardonic drawl. “Or perhaps yourtastes run to the exotic. After all, you gallivant across the length and breadth of the land on your own, flaunting every dictate of propriety while undertaking your outrageous endeavors, so it seems likely you crave the sort of excitement most gently bred females would never dream of. Was that why your husband left you, because of such ungovernable behavior?” He thumbed through several more drawings before adding roughly, “But it’s nothing to worry on. I should be happy to take his place if you see anything that particularly whets your appetite.”
Alex instantly regretted his crude comment as he watched her face go very pale, then color to a scarlet nearly as bright as the peppers used in a Madras curry. She turned away, but not quickly enough to hide the wounded look in her eyes. Well skilled in the art of attack, he had known just where to strike with greatest effect.
“I suppose I deserve to be the object of such scathing words, sir.” Aurora drew in a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in her voice. “But you may be assured, I need none of your mocking insults to remind me I lack the sweet manners, as well as the physical charms, of a normal female.” Her hands twined into a knot in her lap. “I seem to engender a disgust in every man I meet, so your scorn hardly comes as a surprise.”
Muttering something under his breath, he reached out and took hold of her chin, turning her around to face him despite her struggle to push away his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to say such despicable things. It was the shock of seeing my belongings had been searched.”
“I d-didn’t look through the rest of your things, truly I did not! I saw the corner of the book sticking out from your bag and did not think you would mind if I borrowed it for a bit.” She bit at her lower lip. “I-I thought it might be poetry, or at least a treatise on battlefield tactics.”
Alex gave a harried smile as relief and remorse surged through him in equal measure. “Some might consider the relationship between men and women to be something akin to war,” he said with a wry grimace. “But I’ll have you know, the real reason this book is in my possession is that it hides a set of military codes.” There was a slight pause as he drew in a breath. “I do not wish to be at daggers drawn with you, Aurora. I hope that you will forgive my cutting words.” His grip softened to where it was almost a caress. “You remember that we agreed to avoid any personal questions? Well, there are things in my bag that I would prefer remain private.”
“You have a right to be furious with me, sir,” she answered quietly. “I had no business touching your things.”
“I’m not angry,” he replied. His hand was still resting against her skin and he was strangely loath to pull it away. “Not with you.” Her eyes flickered in question at his enigmatic meaning, but instead of making any explanation, he gave voice to his own query. “You really think you lack any attraction for the opposite sex, Aurora?”
She wrenched away from his touch. “You needn’t keep teasing me, sir. I look in the mirror every day, and I don’t need a pair of spectacles to see quite clearly what stares back.”
“And what is it you think you see?”
“The same reflection as meets your gaze,” she replied. “That of a female well over the first bloom of youth, with only passable features and hair a drab color, neither blonde nor auburn.”
Alex wished he might do something—anything—to wipe the look of haunting vulnerability from those features. Most of all, he wanted to stop the slight tremor of her expressive lips by covering them with his own and kissing her thoroughly. So thoroughly that she would cease to think that the only reaction she inspired in a man was disgust. However, given what he had just said, she might misinterpret such an action.
