Page 9 of Never a Bride
“Heroic!” Emmeline repeated, dropping the letter on the bed and getting up to pace. “He thought I was a—a strumpet!”
Her sister only giggled. “But surely he was quick to realize his mistake.”
“Yes, because I told him.”
“And he was a perfect gentleman after that, wasn’t he?”
“Well…”
How could she say that while Sir Alexander had played the part of a gentleman, his eyes implied wickedness and his smile spoke of seduction? How it must have amused him to tease a spinster. What lengths would he go to amuse himself even further with her young, innocent sister?
~oOo~
Alex lay alone in bed, the fire crackling in the hearth, the noise of the tavern slowly dying as the night aged. Unable to sleep, he had considered asking Viv, the tavern maid, back to his chambers, but the idea had held no appeal—which baffled him. He had always enjoyed the companionship of women: to tease, to enjoy, to lose himself in. Women had been one of his few solaces when he’d posed as Spencer, when he’d begun to fear he didn’t know himself anymore. He’d soon realized that as the viscount, he could no longer converse with his own companions. And he hadn’t known Spencer’s friends well enough to feel at ease with them, especially since his brother’s life could be forfeited if Alex was revealed as a fraud.
But there were always women, a bridge between his old identity and the one he’d been forced to don. It merely took a while before he’d understood that their interest in him was not what it seemed.
Disjointed thoughts rolled around in his head, and he couldn’t understand what made this night different. Surely being attacked by the two strangers was the reason.
If they’d wanted his money, it would have been far easier for them to follow him down a street, hit him over the head and rob him. Instead they’d made a very public challenge, as if they wanted to be recognized for something.
And they’d put the lady Emmeline in danger.
“Hellfire.” Alex laughed at himself as he threw an arm over his eyes. Where did that thought come from? But once she invaded his mind, it wasn’t easy to forget her.
She was nothing like the women he preferred, confident women at ease with themselves. Oh, sheportrayedconfidence well, but he suspected it didn’t run deep. She was a spinster, with an uncertain place in this world, and the knowledge that she would always have to depend on others.
Yet Emmeline was interesting, and reacted so strongly to every subtle taunt he tossed at her. It would be amusing to coax her outrage as he teased her sister. Outwitting Emmeline might turn out to be more fun than luring a kiss from her flirtatious sister, whose type he knew all too well.
Chapter 4
The next day, as the waterman rowed the wherry up to the dock at Thornton Manor, Alex felt the usual bitter mood steal over him. It didn’t help that he’d again had the feeling that someone had been following him in Southwark. He paid the waterman and walked up the long stone pathway, trying to force away the memories of being the master at Thornton.
He had not expected to like the hard work of running Spencer’s many estates scattered throughout England, but had discovered that the land and its upkeep interested him. With attempts at agricultural modernization, he’d affected so many lives for the better. He almost regretted the quiet satisfaction he’d achieved, for its absence disturbed him.
Alex opened up the main door of the house and stepped inside. Ah well, he had the rest of his life to accomplish something else. He’d get to it…eventually. For now, he would visit his mother, who was soon to leave for the Isle of Wight for the birth of Spencer and Roselyn’s baby.
The hall of the house stretched to the second floor, and somewhere in the distance he could hear the raised voices of servants.
“Madre?” he yelled, knowing it would take too long to search for her.
He heard a gasp from a corridor to his right, and he turned to find a little maidservant steadying a tray filled with goblets and cakes.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he said, and enjoyed the maid’s blush.
“Lord Thornton—I mean, Sir Alexander,” she murmured, bobbing a little curtsy while still balancing the tray.
“You could tell it was me, eh?” he teased.
“Lord Thornton is on the island, sir, but surely ye knew that. Should I tell her ladyship ye’re here?”
“Are you heading her way?”
She bobbed again, and her linen cap dipped toward her eyes.
“Then I’ll just follow you.”
She almost scurried before him, as if he would trample on her heels. When they entered the withdrawing chamber, he came up short.
