Page 66 of Never a Bride
Alex grinned at all the women before eyeing Emmeline herself. “I knew I’d find you here. Always working too hard, isn’t she, ladies?”
They all bobbed their heads in agreement, and she was forced into a stiff smile. “Sir Alexander, please wait in the parlor. As soon as I finish, I’ll—”
But he swept into the room, towering over the servants, smiling so charmingly that Emmeline could see the girls sigh as they gazed up at him.
“Ladies, might I steal Lady Emmeline from you?”
There was really no help for it. She was almost pushed out the door by the cheerful kitchen servants, and then Alex was pulling her to the parlor. When she heard the door close, she whirled to face him.
“Alex, please open the door.”
Slowly he walked toward her, and she held her ground.
“Now Em, your father and your sister are gone, am I right?”
“How did you know that?” she demanded, feeling giddiness flutter in her stomach and up into her throat. “Have you been spying on us?”
“Your steward told me when I came in.”
“Please don’t ask my servants personal questions.”
“He volunteered the information.”
Alex stepped closer until Emmeline would have to back away or touch him. But he stopped before her, and she arched her neck to look up at him. The air was charged with their breathing, his as rapid as hers, she was amazed to see.
“We’re alone,” he murmured.
She was frozen with indecision, wondering what he’d do, wanting—
He suddenly turned away and sprawled on the settle. “Tell me about your plans for Willoughby’s teaching.”
The space around her was suddenly so empty. She gripped the back of a chair to keep from falling over. She had wanted to help Maxwell and Blythe, but had not realized how Alex’s presence would torture her.
Or had she? Was she unknowingly doing anything she could to be with him?
No, it couldn’t be true—she wouldn’tallowit to be true. She forced herself to smile and sit across from him. “I just want Maxwell to feel at ease in the company of women, to have a fair chance to compete with other men. Anything you feel would be appropriate, I wish you would teach him.”
He rested his elbows casually on his knees. “You’re trusting me to choose.”
She nodded.
“You seem to have much faith in me.”
“I certainly have faith in some of the things you’re competent at.”
“Only competent?” His smile was so knowing that she blushed. “All right, I’ll accept competent, although I imagine it is not the first word ascribed to me. I have so much faith in my…competence that I propose a wager.”
Emmeline shook her head, hiding her trembling hands in her skirt. Where was Maxwell? This unbearable tension, this feeling of intimate invasion was becoming more than she could bear. “A lady does not gamble, Alex. Regardless, I don’t see what we could possibly wager on.”
“I wager on a lot of things you might never imagine,” he said slowly. “But I don’t propose we use money. I’ll wager that I can turn Maxwell Willoughby into the most sought-after gentleman in all of England.”
She blinked at him for a moment, wondering if he jested.
“This is foolish,” she finally said. “He does not need to be the most sought-after gentleman in all of England. It only matters to—to one woman,” she finished, relieved that she had not said Blythe’s name. He would go storming from her home if he knew he was training his competition.
Although Alex’s posture didn’t change, he almost seemed to stiffen. “And who is the woman?”
She smiled brightly. “Whomever Maxwell chooses.”
