Page 11 of Wickeds Scandal
Mr. Runyon’snostrils flared and a glint of anger flared in his ice, blue gaze. Hesmiled kindly again and Alexandra thought she must have been mistaken.
“Your uncleispressing me to sign a betrothal agreement, but I have been very clear with himthat I would not force you. We should try to know one another betterbefore making such a decision. I wish a joyful marriage, MissDunforth. I do not want an ill beginning.” He stroked his cravatagain.
Alexandraregarded him. Mr. Runyon appeared to be nothing more than a kind, gentleman who seemed a bit shy. Having witnessed the way nearly everyonegossiped since her arrival in London, she did not doubt the cruelty he’dreceived.
“Surelythere are dozens of more appropriate women, Mr. Runyon. I have beenraised far away from London and am not as sophisticated as many women. Also,I am considered to be long in the tooth and on the shelf.”
His gazeshifted from her questioning look. Shyly, he looked back at her face.
“As Istated,” he cleared his throat nervously, “because of my prior disgrace I fearthat many of theton’s families find meinadequatefor theirdaughters. Something of a milksop. I was so young and stupid.Chasing a girl who strung me along. “I am pleased that you are not familiarwith my previous embarrassment.” His eyes bored into hers as he claspedher hands. “Miss Dunforth, I am certain we would get on, as I find youhave a most pleasing disposition.”
“But myuncle –“ A plan formed in her mind. One that filled her withremorse but one that could save Helmsby Abbey and those she held dear.
“Leave youruncle to me, Miss Dunforth. I will tell him we are getting to know eachother better and will sign the betrothal contract when we are ready.Ifwe are ready.” He winked at her like a conspirator. “My attentions willat least keep your uncle from casting his net, will it not?”
Mr. Runyongave her a very firm look, his eyes full of protective furor.
As long asher uncle assumed that she and Mr. Runyon were betrothed, Odious Oliver wouldnot attempt to find another suitor. She was certain her uncle didn’t knowhis control over her ended soon. If she could justuseMr. Runyon,for a bit.
Mr. Runyonlooked so earnest. Honesty emanated from him.
Eventually,after she explained, Mr. Runyon would understand her deceit.Alexandra gave Mr. Runyon what she hoped was a dazzling smile. “Mr.Runyon, I would be honored to accept your terms.”
“Wonderful!Simply wonderful! I feel certain we shall form a strong friendship thatwill grow into much more.”
Alexandraignored the twinge of guilt at his words. She forced herself to push itaside. She would do what she must.
Mr. Runyonstuck her hand into the crook of his arm. “Come, Miss Dunforth. Ishall escort you to your waiting carriage. I desire to call on you laterin the week, business permitting, would that be all right?”
She noddedand smiled her assent as Mr. Runyon led her back through the ballroom to thecarriage where her uncle waited.
FIVE
“I don’tsuppose the devil takes tea, so I should have nothing to fear.” Alexandrasmoothed the pleated folds of her yellow-sprigged gown and tried not to thinkabout the fact that she was about to be entertained by Lord Reynolds’s sisterand elderly grandmother. Alexandra wondered again at the oddcoincidence. Certainly, God must have a sense of humor.
A notearrived that morning, written in a spidery, elegant hand. The noteinstructed Alexandra of the Dowager’s expectation that Alexandra join theelderly woman for tea today. She tossed the note at her uncle andflew up the stairs to find something suitable in her wardrobe. Thethought of escaping her uncle’s townhome, if only for an afternoon, filled herwith delight and an odd sense of expectation. But what if she sawhim?
Alexandra’sfingers fluttered nervously until the digits found a curl lying across hershoulder. Her bottom wiggled against the settee as she tried to controlher agitation. She twisted the curl round and round her finger, while sheimagined what she would do if Lord Reynolds appeared. He won’tremember me, Alexandra told herself for the tenth time. I am fairlyplain, and he was toying with me. Besides, if she would regain herindependence and save Helmsby Abbey, she didn’t need her meeting with thebiggest rake in London to become knowledge.
Her facegrew warm in the cool air of the Dowager’s parlor. Last night she haddreamt of Lord Reynolds and the infamous dragon tattoo. Lord Reynolds had kissedher and the dragon’s tail unwound from his torso to wrap around her. Herhands wove through the dark strands of his hair. She awoke this morningwith her nightgown around her waist and a painful throb between herthighs. She could still smell the scent of cinnamon coming off his skin,the sound of his voice whispering, “Alex.”
The clockstruck the hour and she jumped, her gaze flying to the door. The darkpaneled walnut remained shut. She had been waiting nearly thirty minutes– giving her far too much time to dwell on fantasy. Her aunthad warned her about men and marriage long ago, using the examples ofGrandfather Dunforth and Lord Burke. Men were trouble, Aunt Eloiseinstructed her, titled men more so because they felt theydeservedeverything. Alexandra plucked at her sleeve. Lord Reynolds wasnothing more than an adventure, something for her to remember in the autumn of herlife.
She leanedback into the couch and allowed her eyes to roam over the comfortable sittingroom that belonged to the Dowager Marchioness. The walls were a mutedcranberry color with a motif of leaves drawn in a pattern around the edges ofthe ceiling. A large, plush Persian carpet in soft tones of brown andgreen covered the floor. The carpet’s weave was so deep that her heelssunk into it when she walked to the settee. She had never seen any roomso elegant. Certainly nothing in her uncle’s garish townhome compared tothis. A light breeze blew through the open window and Alexandra couldsmell a combination of aromas, likely from the Dowager’s garden, waftthrough. The comfort of the room made her homesick for her study atHelmsby Abbey.
She hadwritten out yet another note to Mr. Meechum, the family solicitor, the third inas many days. She wondered at his lack of reply, thinking that hepossibly was out of town. Not trusting Tilda, the lady’s maid her unclehired to wait on her, Alexandra asked one of the stable boys to take the noteto Meechum and Sons. The young lad tugged his forelock and went runningdown the mews from her, in what she hoped was the right direction.Upon her return to the house, Tilda, her bulldog like countenance twisted intoa snarl, asked her what she’d been up to. Alexandra ignored her.Tilda was more jailor than lady’s maid. Alexandra did not owe the womanan explanation.
Where onearthwasthe Dowager? When she’d arrived, the butler apologizedprofusely as he directed Alexandra to the lovely sitting room. TheDowager was not quite ready to receive her, he said. Alexandra tapped hertoe and struggled to keep her posture ramrod straight. Aunt Eloise alwaysinsisted on perfect posture, especially for Alexandra.“Sitting upstraight will give you presence, my dear!”
“Hello!”A stunning young woman walked into the room, her long inky curls bouncingjauntily against her tiny waist. She walked into the room with broad,unladylike steps, exuding confidence and a friendly air.
Alexandraliked her immediately. She stood and curtsied, assuming the girl in frontof her to be the Dowager’s granddaughter, and her host for tea.
Thesparkling green eyes were so much like her brother’s that Alexandra was takenaback. The young lady gave her a sly smile. “You are Miss Dunforth.Grandmother has told meallabout you. You quite shocked her, youknow.”
“Idid?” Alexandra wondered what shocked the Dowager more – hercursing or her unruly hair.
“Whyyes! She never expects to meet any young woman who is not a completedimwit. The Dowager gets positively thrilled when she finds a girl whoseems to have a mind. According to Grandmother, young ladies who canthink on their own are rather the exception. I’m Lady Miranda Reynolds bythe way.”
