Midnight My Love (3 page)

****

In his London town house, Damien rose from
the cot. How many times had he remembered and savored that kiss? So
long ago, yet he could still taste Alexandra's lips as if it were
yesterday.

The clock in the hall struck six, and the
servants were beginning to stir. He checked on Rob and found him
still asleep.

Damien stood by the bed and stared down at
his injured friend. Robert needed him at Willowmede. Alexandra
would be there. She believed he had betrayed their friendship. In a
way, he had. But he felt betrayed also.

He had always mistrusted
females. Especially beautiful ones. His father had suffered at the
hands of his beautiful heartless wife. Damien had vowed no woman
would ever hold that kind of power over
him
.

He laughed silently. He was fooling himself
and knew it. For ten years, one woman had dominated his body, mind
and soul: The beautiful Alexandra.

He knew she despised him and his way of
life. He despised himself for the way he felt about her. He wanted
her. God knew he wanted her. But he would change for no woman. Not
even Alexandra.

On Thursday evening, Alexandra sat with her
friend, Jenny Sedgewicke, on one of the sofas lining the walls of
the New Assembly Rooms in Bath. She vigorously applied her fan as
she surveyed the crowd. Bath patrons and visitors flocked to the
weekly assemblies Mr. King provided for their entertainment--the
Dress Balls on Mondays, Fancy Balls on Thursdays.

Resting after taking part in a lively
country dance, she and Jenny were waiting for their partners to
return with the lemonade they'd gone to procure. The room was
stifling from the heat of so many coifed and perfumed bodies.

"I'm glad you invited me to Willowmede,
Alex," Jenny said, fanning herself energetically. "I enjoy going to
Town for the Season, but I much prefer the quieter country
life."

"So why, after only a fortnight at
Willowmede, did we decide to remove to Bath?" Alexandra teased, a
mischievous smile playing about her mouth.

"We needed to replenish our supply of books
for one thing," Jenny replied pragmatically. "I also wanted to
match the thread I'm using for my embroidery and you needed new
gloves."

Alex smiled. "New gloves, indeed. We both
know the real reason we left is because we're worried to death
about Robert, and everything at Willowmede reminds us of him."

Jenny laid her small hand over Alexandra's.
"Surely, you'll receive news soon. They would have notified you if
something was seriously wrong."

"I know," Alex said. "Except I can't help
worrying, and don't tell me you think I'm being foolish."

"I think nothing of the sort. You have every
right to feel worried," Jenny said in her deep, quiet voice. "But
what will you do when Robert does come home? Will you stay at
Willowmede after he weds Lady Felicia?"

Alexandra adjusted the folds of her
topaz-colored skirts. "No, I plan to live here in Bath. I'm used to
being my own mistress, and I don't wish to hang on Robert's sleeve.
Besides, Willowmede is only an hour's drive from here. I'll be
close enough to continue my work in the observatory."

Jenny folded her fan closed. "You know, I
didn't realize how serious an astronomer you'd actually become. In
your letters, you always mention your studies, but somehow I
thought it merely an amusement."

"I'm afraid it's become an
obsession with me," Alex confessed. "Papa's dying wish was for me
to continue his search for the cause of the seventh planet's
irregular orbit. At first it was an onerous task, but now I'm
convinced Papa was correct in his assumptions. Something is indeed
causing the
Georgium
Sidus
--as Mr. Herschel named the
planet--to orbit erratically." A frown gathered on Alexandra's
brow, as it always did when she pondered this mystery. She glanced
at her friend and smiled. "For heaven's sake, don't get me started
or I'll prose on and on and you'll be bored to tears."

Miss Sedgewicke shook her head. "As if I
could ever be bored in your company, my dear."

"Well, of course you could, you goose!
Especially if I start in on my favorite topic."

"That's nonsense, and you
know it," Jenny said. "Do you think Robert will allow you to set up
household
alone
in Bath?"

"Good God, Jenny!" Alex exclaimed. "I'm
twenty-six years old and well able to set up and maintain an
establishment of my own. As for being alone, Aunt Haygood will
naturally continue to live with me."

"And what about Sir Howard Carlisle?" Jenny
asked. "He seems to be pursuing you in great earnest. He followed
you to London this Season. If I remember correctly, Sir Howard
rarely goes to Town."

"Yes, he prefers the
country, as do I." Alexandra fiddled with the strings of her
reticule sitting in her lap. "I
am
considering his offer, Jenny. I've been weighing
the advantages and disadvantages. I'm not getting any younger, and
I want to have children someday. I like Carlisle well enough, and
Bramble Court is only five miles from Willowmede. I could still
continue my work at the observatory, even though Carlisle thinks
it's all foolishness. His young son, Jonathan, is a dear. Yet
somehow I find I can't appreciate Carlisle as I should."

Jenny opened her fan again. "Most marriages
start with respect and liking for one another. Love often comes
later. Don't let something that happened long ago ruin your life
forever, Alex. Sir Howard is worth ten Rochdales. It was only a
kiss, after all."

Alex gave Jenny's hand a grateful squeeze.
"That is exactly what Rochdale said. Only a kiss. But why have
other men's kisses been so lacking?"

"Why, Alex! How many kisses have you
received?" Jenny asked in mock horror.

"I'll never tell," Alexandra replied
demurely, her eyes dancing.

Jenny spoke seriously. "I think you should
give Sir Howard a chance. He's worth his weight in gold, you know."
Looking around, she searched the throng. "I thought he would be
here tonight. Ah, yes--I knew I could not have been mistaken! Here
comes your persistent suitor now."

Alexandra looked across the crowded Assembly
Rooms to see her latest admirer making his way towards them. Sir
Howard Carlisle was a good-looking man. His guinea gold hair was
swept back from his broad forehead, his cheeks were rosy, and his
eyes a clear blue. He was of medium height and stockily built. Sir
Howard always dressed neat as a pin--a typical country squire. Alex
wondered why she couldn't admire him more.

Carlisle came up to them just as Mr.
Nettleton and Mr. Bryant-Smythe arrived with the lemonade.
Alexandra made the introductions. Another dance was starting.

Sir Howard bowed low over her hand. "If you
check your card, Miss Turlington, I believe you will find that this
is my dance."

"I believe you're right, Carlisle." Catching
Jenny's eye, Alex tried not to smile. She was swept off onto the
dance floor, leaving behind an amused Miss Sedgewicke.

"You look ravishing as always, my dear," Sir
Howard declared, casting a proprietary glance over her.

"Thank you," replied Alex.

He executed the steps of the dance with
deliberate precision. "How long do you plan to continue in
Bath?"

"Only until the end of the week," she said.
"The George is reaching its perihelion, and I must chart its
course. I really should not have come to Bath at all, except we
were feeling rather moped at home."

"Yes, I should think you were," he said. "I
must tell you that in my opinion, there are more important matters
to concern your pretty head with than a silly star."

Alex raised her chin
slightly. "The George is
not
a star, Carlisle. It is a planet.
The Georgian Planet
.
Papa called it the George for short, and so do I. But that's
neither here nor there. Of course, there are more important matters
that concern me. You know there are."

The movements of the dance separated them,
and when again they came together, Carlisle gently pressed her
hand. "Still no word from your brother?"

"No. It's been almost four months since his
last letter. If I don't hear anything by next week, I'm going back
to London to make more inquiries."

"My dear Miss Turlington, I wish you would
grant me the privilege of sharing this burden; indeed, I would like
to share all of your burdens, as you well know," Sir Howard said,
pressing his suit further along.

"You're very kind, but I need more time to
consider. I know you must think me a widgeon," Alex murmured.

"Never that, my dear. I understand your
indecision. Marriage is an important commitment and should not be
rushed into. You must excuse me for seeming impatient. A man in
love sometimes becomes overly eager."

The blatant declaration made Alexandra feel
squeamish and uncomfortable. "You've been wonderfully patient with
me, Carlisle. I'll try to give you my answer before we leave
Bath."

When the dance ended, Sir Howard led her
back to Jenny. Alex saw that Aunt Haygood had seated herself on the
sofa next to her friend.

Miss Rachel Haygood, a fifty-year-old
spinster, lived with Alexandra at Willowmede. She was overly plump,
honest to a fault, transparent in her emotions, and dressed in
outrageously bright-colored clothes. Alex often wished her aunt had
a more subdued taste in apparel. Tonight, she wore a purple satin
gown with large pink ribbons. A monstrous turban of yellow silk
perched precariously on top of her titian-colored hair.

"I'm ready to go home, niece," Miss Haygood
announced pugnaciously.

Alexandra dared not meet Jenny's glance;
they both knew Aunt Haygood considered Sir Howard a threat to her
comfortable way of life. Alex was aware her aunt fondly believed
they were both confirmed spinsters who would live contentedly
together for the rest of their days.

She sat beside her aunt. "But it's early
yet, dear heart. I thought you were having a comfortable coze with
your cronies. Is something wrong?"

"My lumbago is acting up again," she
complained loudly, eyeing Sir Howard with ill-concealed hostility.
"I must get home and brew some chamomile tea."

Alexandra bit her lip to
keep from smiling. Aunt Haygood was
not
overly fond of men, and whenever
any of her niece's suitors came around, her lumbago always flared
up.

"I'll send for the carriage immediately,"
Alex told her. "Jenny and I shall wait until the ball is over. It's
almost eleven, so we won't be far behind. I'm sure Carlisle won't
mind escorting us to Laura Place."

"It would be an honor to perform such a
pleasant service," Sir Howard replied promptly.

"I'll stay," Miss Haygood
said in martyred tones. "Never let it be said Rachel Haygood
shirked her duty towards her family. Even if I
am
in considerable pain, I
will
not
desert
my post!"

Alexandra smiled indulgently as her aunt
continued.

"You know I would never
leave you
alone, unchaperoned,
in the midst of all these
men
!"

The music started again. Sir Howard cleared
his throat, glancing uneasily at Miss Haygood. "I believe this is
our dance, Miss Turlington. Shall we?"

"How many times do you plan to stand up with
my niece tonight, sirrah?" demanded Miss Haygood.

"You know I would never claim more than two
dances with any lady of my acquaintance," Carlisle said, on the
defensive.

"I know nothing of the kind," she declared,
fixing him with a haughty glare. Her turban swayed alarmingly as
she shook her head at him.

Carlisle bowed stiffly. "Shall we dance,
Miss Turlington?"

"I'd be delighted." Alex grabbed his arm and
hurriedly led him away from her aunt, toward the set that was
forming on the dance floor.

****

The next morning, Alex rose early. She had
promised herself to do the accounts and take inventory of the
sheets and linen. She was serious when she'd told Jenny she planned
to remove to Bath when Robert married Lady Felicia.

Alex drank a cup of chocolate, then went to
the bookroom. Seated at her desk, she pored over the entries in the
account ledger. The columns and numbers refused to balance. She
jumped up and paced around the room. She was in no mood to do
accounts. Her mind kept wandering.

Why hadn't she heard from Robert? The last
letter she had received was dated early March. It was now the
middle of July. She knew he was always in the thick of the battles,
and there had been several engagements this past spring. Alex felt
something terrible must be wrong.

Sitting once more at her desk, she opened
the ledger. After she balanced her books, Alex resolved to write
Lord Brumley at the Foreign Office. She had met his lordship at her
Aunt Penwaithe's house several times during the Season. Surely, he
would be able to obtain news of Robert.

She trimmed her pen, then started on the
accounts again. A loud rapping on the front door caused her to make
a smudge in one of her columns. Alex heard Bentley answer the
urgent summons. A deep male voice spoke earnestly to her butler in
the hall.

She glanced at the mantel clock. It was only
seven-thirty. Who could be calling at such an hour?

Bentley came to the door. "Viscount
Rochdale, Miss," he intoned.

Alexandra stood quickly
and gripped the edge of the writing table. She stared unseeingly at
the butler.
Rochdale? What in the
world?
Her shoulders tightened as she felt
a sudden apprehension.
Rochdale could only
be here for one reason. Dear God! He must have news of
Robert.