Midnight My Love (10 page)

Catching the ink bottle before it fell,
Jenny watched Robert stalk toward the door, suddenly afraid of the
frightful light in his eyes.

Aunt Haygood awoke with a start. "What's the
matter with you, dear boy?" she asked. "Shall I brew a restorative
tea for you this afternoon?"

Robert turned a twisted face on his aunt. "I
don't want any more of your goddamned teas!" His voice sounded
constricted, a low savage growl.

Aunt Haygood's face crumpled, and she sobbed
into her tatting. Jenny hurried to the old woman's side, patted her
shoulder and handed her a handkerchief. Then she ran after Robert,
passed him and stood in the doorway, barring the way.

"Wait!" Jenny cried. "Where are you going?
What are you going to do?"

Robert stopped inches from her. "Please,
allow me to pass," he said through gritted teeth.

"Promise me, you won't do something
dreadful," she pleaded.

"I don't make promises, I can't keep." He
pushed her aside and strode quickly toward the front door, which
was opened wide.

Jenny quickly followed, terrified at the
thought of Robert's desperate attitude, not knowing what to do or
how to help. He'd seemed to be getting along so well. What in the
world had happened?

"Robert! Please!"

Ignoring her anguished plea, Robert quickly
walked out the door.

****

Standing at the top of the stairs, Damien
watched as Robert made his escape. Never had he witnessed such a
look of torment on his friend's face.

Miss Sedgewicke stopped at the bottom of the
staircase and gripped the banister. "Stop him! Someone, please stop
him!" she cried, a sob catching in her throat.

Damien quickly descended the stairs. "What
happened?"

Alexandra rushed into the hall from the back
of the house. "Good God, Jenny. What's wrong? What's the matter
with Robert?"

"Someone must follow him. I fear he might .
. . he shouldn't be alone." Jenny grabbed Rochdale's sleeve. "My
lord, please go after him," she urged. "He's in a dangerous mood
and I'm afraid of what he might do."

"What happened?" Damien asked again, holding
Alex's gaze for one pregnant moment.

"There's no time . . . just go after him."
Jenny pushed him toward the door. She turned frightened eyes on
Alex.

Alexandra picked up her gloves from the hall
table. "I'm going too!" she said, following Rochdale.

"You'll stay here, my girl," he ordered, his
voice sharp. "I'll take care of this."

"He's my brother. I'll come if I want to. I
was preparing to leave anyway, to visit a couple of sick tenants.
We'll take the gig. Robert can't have gone far." She met his
brooding eyes squarely, her chin raised slightly.

"As you wish." Damien turned on his heel and
went outside.

A groom was bringing Alex's gig from the
stables. Robert pushed the servant away, flung himself up on the
seat, and whipped the reins across the mare's haunches. The gig
lurched forward, then began picking up speed.

"Robert! Wait!" Damien called. "You're in no
condition to drive!"

"Don't try to stop me, Demon! I know what
I'm about."

"Damned fool!" Damien watched as the gig and
Robert sped down the willow-lined lane, soon lost in a cloud of
dust.

Alex clutched Damien's arm. He looked down
into the wide green eyes and pressed her hand reassuringly.

"My God, he'll kill himself," she whispered.
"Go after him, Damien. Hurry! Please, hurry!"

Damien ran to the stables. The head groom
had a horse already saddled and handed the reins to the
viscount.

"See to your mistress," Damien said. "She'll
want to follow. Stall her for at least ten minutes, then escort her
yourself." He vaulted onto the animal's sleek back and raced after
the runaway gig.

****

Robert's arm ached as he held onto the reins
in a death grip. When he'd jumped in the gig, all he'd wanted to do
was escape the house and the torment he'd lived with for the last
several months. Vague thoughts of ending it all swirled about his
brain.

But with the reality of impending death
looming over him as the gig sped out of control, life suddenly
seemed sweet. He thought of Jenny, who'd been his lifeline since
he'd come home. He remembered her gray eyes and low laughter. He
thought about his response to her nearness. For the first time in
months, he felt like a man again. Narrowing his eyes, he remembered
he had a fiancée also.

Robert directed all of his
energy toward keeping the horse and gig from overturning. If he
could come out of this alive, he would thank God he was spared and
get on with living. He'd have to find the patience to learn to do
everything with one hand. With Jenny's support, Robert thought he
could make it.
If he came out of this
alive
. . .

The horse seemed impervious to Robert's
signals, no matter how hard he pulled on the reins. He decided to
give the mare her head and let her tire herself out. He
concentrated on keeping the gig on the narrow road. Robert prayed
he wouldn't meet anyone coming from the opposite direction.

He heard Damien calling his name, but dared
not glance back. Thank God, Demon had followed him. He'd always
been there for him. He was glad he was here now, because he was
going to need his help.

Suddenly, a rabbit shot across the road. The
horse swerved to miss it, grazing the wheels of the gig along the
embankment. The old mare's ears flattened, then she reared up and
bolted down the road with renewed energy. Robert felt the left
wheel leave the ground as the gig rounded a bend.

He was determined to stop the carriage
himself. Demon was too far behind to help. Robert looped the reins
around his arm. Bracing his feet on the floor of the gig, he hauled
with all his might. The taut reins wrenched his arm, almost pulling
it from the socket. After an interminable amount of time, he felt
the mare slow her pace; her ears resumed their normal position.

From the corner of his eye, Robert saw Demon
grab the horse's bridle. In a few seconds, the gig stood safely by
the side of the road.

"What the hell were you trying to do? Break
your damned neck?" Damien shouted.

Robert hesitated as he
stared at the infuriated face glaring at him. "The thought
had
crossed my
mind."

"I never knew you were such a coward,"
Damien cut in bitingly. "Of all the selfish, inconsiderate
starts."

Robert rubbed his throbbing shoulder with
his chin. "I said it crossed my mind. All I really wanted to do was
ride out my anger. The gig was there. I didn't think--I simply
acted."

"Acted foolishly, you mean," Damien snapped.
"You've always been cow handed, even before your accident, and you
know it."

"All of us can't be members of the
Four-In-Hand Club, sporting spotted neckerchiefs and driving
coaches up Salt Hill," Robert said. "Besides, old Betsy was slowing
down. Before you took hold of the bridle, I mean."

Dismounting, Damien tied his horse to the
back of the gig and jumped in beside his friend. "You gave me one
hell of a scare, Rob," he said. "Alexandra will be here shortly. We
must concoct some sort of a story to tell her."

"Yes," he agreed. "Jenny will be worried,
too. I'm afraid I've behaved like a cad. I even cursed poor Aunt
Haygood."

"Don't castigate yourself. You've had a
rough time of it," Damien said. "I know you've been suffering.
Something was bound to happen. Just be glad it wasn't anything
worse."

"I won't lie to you, Demon. I've thought of
death--even prayed for it," Robert admitted. "Yet when the gig was
out of control, I realized I didn't want to die."

"Welcome back, my friend. Now, here comes
your sister. Think of a plausible tale while I turn this gig
around. Unless you'd like to do the honors?"

Robert grinned and shook his head. "I've had
enough driving for today, thank you.

Alexandra pulled up beside the gig, astride
Cosmos, out of breath. Jem Thomson, the head groom, trailed
behind.

"Thank God, you're safe," Alex said, her
face deathly pale. "Are you all right, Robert?"

"I'm fine."

"What were you about?" she scolded. "To take
off in such a fashion?"

Searching his sister's lovely face, he
shrugged. "Let's just say I was trying my hand at the reins.
Obviously, I'm not ready yet."

"I should think not," she said. "You've just
risen from your sick bed. This is no time to test your skill with
the ribbons."

Damien started the gig toward Willowmede. "I
was telling Robert that I admire his spirit. But perhaps he should
learn to do simpler tasks first before tackling the more difficult
ones."

His eyes dropped to the well-turned ankle
peeping from beneath Alexandra's hiked-up skirt. She caught his
gaze and tried to adjust her position. This proved to be
impossible--the skirt was not made for riding astride. She tried to
stare him out of countenance. He merely lifted an eyebrow in
return.

After watching this by-play, Robert smiled.
"You have no one to blame but yourself, dear sister. If you refuse
to ride side-saddle, you must pay the price." Before Alex could
reply, he threw up his hand. "Let's go home. I must apologize to
Jenny and Aunt Haygood for my monstrous behavior."

"Aunt Haygood?" she asked, puzzled.

"I'm afraid I told her I didn't want anymore
of her teas," Robert admitted sheepishly. "And I didn't say it very
nicely."

Alex gasped, then laughed. "You didn't!
That's worse than taking off in the gig."

He nodded in agreement, sweeping his black
hair back from his forehead with his good hand. "I know, Alex. I
know."

****

Robert found Jenny in the Music Room,
sitting at the piano. She played a sad, mournful tune. He leaned
against the door frame and listened until she finished the
piece.

Jenny turned when she heard his approach. He
saw the worry and something else he couldn't name in her lovely
gray eyes. Her hand went to her throat--she stood abruptly. "You're
safe! Thank goodness, you're safe!"

Looking down at her,
Robert felt an unaccountable longing to crush her to him. He must
be going mad. He reminded himself he was engaged to be married. "I
owe you an apology, my dear. I don't know what possessed me to act
like an ogre to
you
, of all people. All I can say is--I'm sorry."

He idly picked out a tune on the ivory keys
and grimaced when he struck a wrong chord. "I guess there will be
many things I can never do again."

Jenny stared at him, biting her lip. A tear
trickled down her cheek.

"Don't cry," he said softly. "I've decided
you're right. I can't live the rest of my days on that damned
sofa." He brushed the tear away. "If you can find it in your heart
to forgive my boorish behavior, I'd like to continue my lesson in
penmanship."

Half laughing, half sobbing, Jenny smiled up
at him. "I'll get the pen and ink." She hesitated, a frown marred
her smooth brow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I was thinking about Aunt Haygood," she
said.

"I've already apologized to my aunt," he
said. "I begged her forgiveness. Then I asked her to brew a cup of
her special restorative tea for me. I also asked her to prepare
something for these blisters." He showed her the two red welts
which streaked across his palm where the reins had rubbed his hand
raw. "Serves me right. I should have known better than to jump in
that gig."

"Perhaps we should postpone the writing
lesson," Jenny suggested.

Robert nodded. "Yes, that might be best.
Would you play for me, Jenny? I haven't heard anyone play for ages.
You used to play when you visited Willowmede. Quite prettily, in
fact."

"I'm proficient, merely. I can't play nearly
as well as you." Jenny cast an anguished look at him. "I'm sorry,"
she whispered.

"Don't be sorry, my dear. It's all right."
Robert quickly turned away. He could no longer play, and Jenny had
just refused to play for him. Was music lost to him forever?

Jenny hurriedly sat at the piano and rifled
through the sheet music. "What would you like to hear?"

Easing his tall frame into a chair, Robert
leaned his head against the cushioned back. She was going to play
for him after all. With eyes half closed, he answered her. "Mozart,
Jenny. Let it be Mozart."

Alex sat at her worktable in
the observatory. It was long past midnight. She and Damien were
going over two crucial paragraphs in her thesis. He searched the
journals, trying to find the exact reference to the George's
position when the planet reached its perihelion--the point of orbit
nearest the sun.

Damien raked his fingers through his hair.
"I know it's here, Alexandra. I remember reading it just the other
day."

Alex put the paper away. "Let's give it up
for tonight. It's two in the morning. I can't concentrate anymore."
She stood and stretched her neck, trying to ease the stiffness.

"Ready for bed?" He walked around the
workbench and stopped directly before her.

Alex trembled. Damien was looking at her
with an intensity that took her breath away. The candle guttered in
its socket, and dark shadows surrounded them in the flickering
light. She kept her eyes on the floor.

When they worked side by side, Alex could
almost forget Damien's past indiscretions. The old camaraderie was
back in place; only now there was an underlying current between
them. At times like this--when the work was done, the lights low,
and she was lulled into a sense of security--Alex felt his
magnetism. She was drawn to Damien, there was no question about it.
Their minds were in accord, united toward a common goal. She
trembled again, pushing away the thought of their bodies in like
accord.