Midnight My Love (11 page)

Alex blurted out what had been uppermost in
her mind all day. "Do you think Robert was trying to kill himself
when he took off in the gig this afternoon?"

The sleepy passion left
Damien's eyes. He stepped closer. "I think . . . I
know
Robert has longed
for death since he lost his arm."

Alexandra closed her eyes tightly, trying to
suppress the grief which shook her. Damien stood dangerously near.
How would it feel if he took her in his arms and held her? She
could imagine his lips brushing her hair.

When she could command her voice, she opened
her eyes and looked at him. "Must I live in constant dread then?
That Robert will try to take his life?"

Damien shook his head. "I think it's safe to
say Robert is past the worst of his depression now. Something
snapped today when he jumped in the gig. He may have started out
with desperate intentions, but I believe he realized he had much to
live for when death was so near."

Alex straightened her skirts and stared into
the golden eyes soberly regarding her. "Robert is very lucky to
have you for a friend."

Damien took her hand and placed a kiss upon
her wrist.

Alexandra's heart pounded in her throat. Her
skin burned where his lips touched.

"Robert is lucky to have you for his
sister," Damien replied huskily. His face was inches from hers.
Alex thought he meant to kiss her. Abruptly, he let her hand fall.
The warmth had left his eyes, replaced by a coldness that left Alex
shivering inside.

Picking up the candle, Damien lighted the
way down the darkened stairwell, leaving Alex to follow as best as
she could.

****

The sun was bright and the
breeze pleasant as Robert reclined on a
chaise longue
under the old willow
tree in the East Garden. Jenny sat in a lawn chair beside him. She
was embroidering an intricate pattern on the tambour frame in her
lap. She stole a quick glance at him and Robert thought he detected
stress in her beautiful gray eyes. He suddenly wanted to take a
turn about the garden and cursed his clumsiness as he started to
rise.

Jenny picked up her
scissors and snipped her thread. "You must strive for patience,"
she said, her eyes never leaving her work. "It will take time to
master rising from your chair with any semblance of grace. However,
the more you
do
get up and about, the easier it will become."

Robert smiled at the brown head bent over
the embroidery frame. "Always full of good sense, my dear," he
said. "Please walk with me, Jenny." He offered his arm, and she
stood and took hold of it.

As they strolled through the flower gardens,
Jenny picked a bouquet of pink and yellow roses. "You're improving
daily and losing some of the awkwardness you felt at first," she
said. "Don't you think it's time you got on a horse--to see if you
can ride again? Riding is different than driving, you know.
Rochdale told me about a Captain Tucker who lost an arm in an
accident several years ago. He still rides to hounds with Mr.
Assheton-Smith and the Quorn every hunting season."

Robert's lips tightened. "Don't push me,
Jenny. After trying my luck with the gig, I'm afraid I must shy
away from horses altogether. I'm content with learning the simple
things first--like eating and writing. It's damned frustrating when
I can't cut my own meat at dinner, and I don't find it easy to
write with my left hand, as you well know."

Jenny looked away and Robert knew he'd hurt
her feelings. That was the last thing he wanted to do. Jenny had
been his mainstay during this harrowing convalescence. Her
acceptance of his disability, her patience when she guided his hand
as he practiced writing, and her encouraging and practical advice
had become dear to him.

How could he have come this far, if not for
Jenny? A month ago, he hadn't wanted to live. Now he awoke each
morning, ready to tackle the hurdles cast his way. But he needed
sweet Jenny to help coax him along.

"I'm sorry, Jenny--" He
stopped short when she raised tear-drenched eyes to his. He forced
himself not to hug her close. "Don't cry, please. I didn't mean to
be abrupt with you. You
don't
push me; far from it. I'm grateful for all of
your patience and assistance. I owe you a debt of gratitude for
helping me learn to be whole again."

Jenny broke away from him, her lips
trembling. "I don't want your gratitude," she cried and fled toward
the house.

Robert stared after her, wondering what he'd
said to make her weep.

****

Alex received the morning post from Sterling
and retired to the back parlor. Seated at her desk, she sorted
through the mail, stifling a yawn. She and Damien had stayed up
late again, working on her thesis. Every night for the past two
weeks they had withdrawn to the observatory after tea. Every night,
Aunt Haygood's lumbago grew worse.

Her aunt had nothing to
worry about, thought Alex. Rochdale wasn't really interested in
her. But he
was
interested in the hypothesis and the paper she was working
on. His insights and different perspectives on her research were
invaluable. He supported her meager efforts at writing and
encouraged her when she lost confidence.

Alex loved the late nights in the
observatory. She always felt happiest when she was up there. Now
she had someone to share her fascination and enthusiasm--something
she'd missed since her father died.

She dismissed the seeming intimacy that was
growing between Damien and herself. She refused to acknowledge any
feeling stronger than friendship. The warmth in his eyes and the
caress she heard in his voice were merely his trademarks. She never
allowed herself to forget Rochdale was an accomplished rake.

Alex opened a letter from the Earl of Thane.
He and Felicia would be arriving day after tomorrow. Alex rushed to
tell Robert the good news. She met Jenny coming in the French doors
leading to the gardens. Jenny hurried past her, head down and a
handkerchief held to her lips. Alex thought she was crying.

"Jenny, what on earth is the matter?" she
called.

Jenny shook her head and retreated toward
the stairs. Alex stared after her, then saw Robert coming up the
path. She went to confront her brother.

"Robert Turlington! What have you done to
make Jenny cry?" she demanded, blocking his way.

"Nothing, I swear it," he said. "I was just
thanking her for all of the kindness and patience she's shown me
the past few weeks. Before I had finished, she'd turned into a
watering pot and stormed off."

Taking his arm, Alex clung to Robert as they
meandered back down the path. "I guess I shall have to take your
word for it. I'll speak with Jenny later." She waved the note she
was holding in front of her brother's face. "The earl and Felicia
will be arriving on Thursday. I know you'll be glad to see your
fiancée."

Robert hesitated. "Yes, of course. Though I
still worry about her reaction to my injury."

Alex gently squeezed his
arm. "If she sincerely loves you, it won't matter. Besides, Jenny
and I accept you as you are, and the loss of your arm is not
your
only
flaw,
my dear brother."

Robert grinned at the
mischievous light in his sister's eyes. "You
do
know how to take a fellow down a
peg, don't you? Jenny never treats me so shabbily. She tells me if
I practice patience and perseverance, I shall come
about."

Alex picked up her friend's forgotten
embroidery frame from the lawn chair. "Jenny is full of pragmatic
good sense, and she's as sweet as she is lovely. She would never
treat you badly, because she's a guest in this house. I, on the
other hand, can treat you any way I wish. A sister's privilege, you
see."

"Saucy minx," Robert said with an indulgent
laugh. "I pity the man who marries you, my dear. He'll always feel
the lash of your pert tongue."

Alex saw a frown furrow his brow. "What is
it, Robert? Are you in pain?"

Robert sank onto
the
chaise longue
. "The only pain I feel is caused by the fast approach of
your suitor. It pains me to see Carlisle underfoot every day.
Surely, you're not seriously considering his offer. He doesn't know
where to look when he's near me. You can't deny he's uncomfortable
with the loss of my arm."

Alex forced a smile as Sir Howard came near.
"It's difficult for some people to accept other's disabilities.
He'll soon grow accustomed."

Carlisle bowed low over Alexandra's hand.
"Lovely day to enjoy the great outdoors," he said, then nodded
toward Robert. "Glad to see you up and about, Turlington. Can't
stay in bed all your life. I must say I admire the way you've
recovered from your terrible ordeal."

Alex glanced at her
brother and saw his lips tighten. Robert was right. Carlisle
was
uncomfortable around
him. The squire looked everywhere except at Robert, even when he
was speaking directly to him. And for the first time, she noticed
the condescending tone he used when addressing Robert, though he
tried to cover his embarrassment in a loud, cheerful
voice.

Robert slowly stood. Alex saw him striving
to avoid any clumsiness. "If you will excuse me, I'll take that
embroidery frame back to Miss Sedgewicke."

Carlisle grabbed the frame. "Don't bother,
Turlington. We'll see that it is returned to Miss Sedgewicke.
Surely a servant can carry it back to the house." He glanced around
as if he could conjure an underling from the bushes and missed the
murderous look in Robert's eyes.

"I'm perfectly capable of carrying it,
Carlisle," Robert said, his teeth clenched as he extended his arm
toward the tambour frame.

Sir Howard's face reddened. "Sorry,
Turlington. I never meant to imply that you weren't."

Alex hastily intervened. "Of course, you
didn't. You don't realize how improved Robert is." She handed the
frame to her brother and saw Rochdale descending upon them.
Carlisle stiffened, while Robert visibly relaxed as the viscount
walked up the path.

Alex appreciated the way Rochdale never
patronized her brother. When Robert was feeling sorry for himself,
Damien told him to go take a damper. He didn't waste any pity on
Robert, but tried to help him cope with his disability.

Damien leaned against the willow tree,
folded his arms across his chest and lazily surveyed the group.
Alex thought he looked like a pirate with his swarthy skin and
muscular build. She caught a gleam of amusement in his eyes as he
glanced her way.

Reaching into his pocket, he took out a lacy
handkerchief. "You forgot this last night, my dear," he said, his
voice low and seductive. "A most enjoyable and productive evening,
wouldn't you agree? I'm pleased to see you looking quite refreshed
this morning after being up so late."

Alex heard Carlisle's sharp intake of
breath. She knew Rochdale was purposely taunting the squire.
Gritting her teeth, she accepted her handkerchief with a smile. "So
thoughtful of you, my lord. Your kindness overwhelms me. Carlisle,
you must know Rochdale is helping me with my research in the
observatory. You recall that I told you I'm writing a paper to
submit to the Royal Society. Rochdale has agreed to lend his
assistance."

Carlisle stood rigid, his lips set in an
uncompromising line. "I'm delighted you've found someone to help
with your little hobby, my dear. Shall we take a turn about the
gardens?" He offered his arm to the reluctant Alex.

Damien grinned. Alex knew he was enjoying
her discomfort. He turned his attention to Robert. "I came to see
if you'd care to ride in the south pasture this afternoon, Rob. I
have a few ideas on how you could mount and control the horse with
one arm. I was telling Miss Sedgewicke last evening about Captain
Tucker."

Carlisle shook his head. "Do you really
think he's ready to ride? I should think after the gig ran away
with him, he would realize . . ."

Damien stared at Sir Howard and tried not to
laugh. This was better than he'd hoped for. He'd deliberately asked
Robert to ride in front of Carlisle, counting on the squire to
voice an objection that would force Robert to accept the
challenge.

With green eyes blazing, Robert stepped
forward. "Of course, I'll ride with you, Demon," he said. "Let me
change into some riding togs and I'll meet you at the stables.
Shall we say in fifteen minutes?"

Alex watched as her brother walked toward
the house. There was a determination in his stride and he looked
more like his old self. When she turned grateful eyes on Rochdale,
she flinched inwardly. She'd thought to find a friendly mocking in
his gaze. Instead, she encountered a hard, implacable look.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Rochdale's eyes snapped. "You have nothing
to thank me for, my dear." He turned on his heel and marched off to
the stables.

Alex allowed Carlisle to guide her along the
stone walk in the gardens. She tried to ignore the hurt she felt at
Damien's unexpected coldness. What was that all about?

Sir Howard cleared his
throat. "Miss Turlington," he began. "I really cannot approve of
the intimacy I find developing between you and that libertine. It
is most improper to be on a first name basis, especially with one
of his stamp. I, who have courted you for more than a year, am not
even allowed that privilege.
Most
improper, my dear!"

"Yes, yes," she said impatiently. "I know
it's a bit unusual, but since Rochdale and I are working closely
together, and since he is my brother's good friend, we agreed to
drop the formalities. I'm sorry you don't approve, but remember,
you really have no authority over my actions yet."