Page 12 of Never a Bride
He glanced over his shoulder at her and smiled. “Don’t you want me to marry as Spence has? Don’t you want more grandbabies?”
“You are interested in marrying this girl?”
“No. Just interested in kissing her.”
Lady Thornton groaned and covered her face with her hands. “My son, it is difficult to know what to do with you. Your father would have known.”
Alex felt his smile dim. “No, he looked to you for that, didn’t he? It was always easier for him to talk to my brother.” The sadness in his own voice amazed him. His father had been dead over two years, and still some part of him grieved for the lost opportunities.
His mother rose to her feet and reached out her hands toward him. “Alexander, you always misunderstood your father. He would have been so proud of your work for the queen. Spencer’s mission succeeded in large part because of you.”
He shook his head and changed the subject. “You’re going to Wight, I hear.”
“How could I miss the birth of my first grandchild? You could join me.”
“I’ll let you convey my good wishes. I have too many things to do here.”
“What things?” she asked skeptically.
She had good reason. It wasn’t as if he had done anything recently, except attend parties and other amusements. It was his choice, wasn’t it?
His mother tried again. “You have not journeyed to Cumberland since Spencer returned,” she said softly.
“Most of those estates are his,” he said, unable to keep the warning note from his voice.
“Not all. Every day I can tell how the bailiffs miss you and regret that you could not finish the plans you’d begun.”
“It is Spencer’s responsibility now. He would not welcome my intrusion.”
“But he asked you to manage his northern estates. You have not given him an answer.”
Alex kept his back to her until he could manage an amused smile. “I already told you that I cannot be the servant where I was once the master. Besides, I want the opposite of what Spence wants. I always have.”
He didn’t confess that he had no idea what that was.
~oOo~
Emmeline strolled uneventfully through their gardens with Blythe while she relayed the story of her visit to Thornton Manor. Every blossoming vine reminded her of the Thornton gardens, and how it had felt to have Sir Alexander’s hand on her arm, their shoulders brushing, her skirts folding around his legs. She almost couldn’t look at Blythe, so embarrassed was she by her reaction to a man her sister flirted with.
Blythe leaned against her and giggled. “Emmy, what indiscretion do you think Alex could have committed that would so irritate our queen?”
“It couldn’t have been much, if his mother knows about it, and the queen so easily forgives him.”
“If he is to be at Whitehall for the weekend festivities, that means he can be one of my dance partners again! Isn’t it wonderful that we were invited, too?”
Wonderful?Not if she had to spend all of her time keeping Sir Alexander and Blythe apart.
Chapter 5
In the grand chamber at the palace of Whitehall, the light from thousands of candles glittered from the jewel-studded gowns of the nobility’s finest ladies. Even the men shone, as the queen wanted it. Course upon course of elaborate food, from roast peacocks decorated with their own feathers to venison pasties, waited to be served, while laughing crowds danced about.
Alex knew the queen wished him to dance with her, that she enjoyed partnering with him. But he avoided her, and instead watched the entrances for the sisters Prescott.
Earlier that day, Edmund Blackwell had laughed when he’d asked how Alex’s pursuit of Blythe’s sweet kiss was progressing. Somehow he’d known about Emmeline coming to the Rooster, and even that she’d visited Thornton Manor. And Edmund had boasted that his own kiss was surely at hand.
Alex leaned against a marble pillar and scowled, draining his second tankard of ale. He did not like to lose; he would have to concentrate more on kissing Lady Blythe.
Then the sisters entered the hall, and after a cursory glance at the lovely Blythe, he found himself studying Emmeline. Almost like a mother, she hung back and allowed Blythe the grand entrance. Where Blythe’s corset showed off a hint of breasts above her square neckline, Emmeline was once again swathed in dull red brocade up to her throat, with a lace ruff collar nestling her chin. Why was she trying to hide her voluptuous figure? And the color of the gown did absolutely nothing for the unique shade of her hair.
