Midnight My Love (5 page)

Alex narrowed her eyes
accusingly. "
Robert Andrew
Turlington
! If you knew what agonies I've
been through!" she scolded. "I don't know how I could survive if
anything happened to you. I
need
you, Robert! With Mama and Papa gone, you are the
dearest person left to me."

He turned his head away
from her. "I've lost an arm. My
right
arm, Alex. I'm not a whole man
anymore. How will I ride? How will I eat? I can't function with one
arm."

Alexandra kissed his cheek. "What
foolishness! Of course, you can function. You're forgetting Admiral
Nelson. He did quite well with one arm." She sat on the edge of the
bed. "I know it's a devastating loss, but thank God, you're alive!
Thirty-five is much too young to cast aside your life. After you're
strong again, you'll be glad you lost only an arm."

Robert stared at the ceiling. "How shall I
be glad? I'm practically helpless. How can I ever marry? Lady
Felicia will not want half a man," he said harshly.

Alexandra laid her hand
upon his arm. "You are
not
half a man! If she truly loves you, she'll be
thankful you're safe and well."

Robert looked at his sister. "I'm going to
cry off from the engagement. I won't put Felicia to the blush.
She's only nineteen; too young to be tied to a one-armed
husband."

"Naturally, you may do as you wish," she
replied. "I suggest we take this one step at a time." Alexandra
adjusted the coverlet and plumped up the pillows. "First, let's get
you well. Then we will worry about Lady Felicia."

Robert smiled crookedly at her. "You always
were a bossy little thing." He closed his eyes and dozed.

****

After Damien saw the horses to the stable,
he decided against joining the Turlingtons. He would only be in the
way as brother and sister reunited. He walked across the lawns to
the observatory situated at the back of the great manor house.

Entering by the side door, he climbed the
steep stairs. He thought of Alexandra's determination to get to
Robert as quickly as possible. She had been ready to leave in an
instant. He'd enjoyed the cross-country ride. How many times in the
past, had he and Alex ridden together, exploring the
countryside?

At the top of the stairwell, he paused. It
had been ten years since he had visited Willowmede and the
Turlington Observatory. Damien opened the door. Nothing had
changed. It was the same as he'd remembered.

Since the old baron had spent most of his
days and nights studying the stars, the room had been furnished
with a comfortable daybed near one of the windows. A Queen Anne
side-table and overstuffed armchair sat nearby. In the center of
the room stood a large telescope pointing toward the cleverly
designed ceiling. The high dome could be opened and closed with a
switch of a mechanism in the wall.

Damien walked over to a long workbench and
looked at the neat pile of journals filled with data. Choosing one
near the top, he scanned several pages. The entries were written in
a delicate female script. Alexandra must be continuing her father's
work. The thoroughness of the data fascinated him as he began
studying the entries. He sat down and was soon absorbed in one of
his favorite pastimes.

****

When she was sure Robert was resting
comfortably, Alexandra went to her bedchamber to change out of her
riding habit. She rang for someone to help her dress, since her own
maid was still in Bath. The housekeeper sent up the new maid named
Lucy.

Alex had hired Lucy when one of the
chambermaids married and moved away. Lucy was a buxom brunette with
a lively glint in her eye. Bobbing a curtsy, the maid quickly set
to work dressing her mistress, chattering away as she buttoned the
back of Alexandra's morning gown of yellow muslin.

After splashing cool water on her face and
combing her hair, Alex felt refreshed. She hesitated, then went in
search of Rochdale.

She looked in the library and then the
picture gallery. At the foot of the stairs, she met the butler.
"Sterling, do you know where Lord Rochdale is?"

"An undergroom saw his lordship heading in
the direction of the observatory, Miss. Shall I send a footman to
fetch him?"

"No, I'll go myself," she said. "Please tell
Mrs. Tolles we'll have breakfast in half an hour."

"Certainly, Miss."

Alexandra walked slowly to
the observatory. She wasn't sure she wanted to be alone with
Rochdale, especially there. Lifting her chin slightly, she walked
with more confident strides. This was nonsense. She would
not
let one kiss rule
her entire life. Rochdale was a rakehell, he had proven that when
he'd betrayed their special friendship. He was a gambler, a
libertine, and a dangerous man to cross.

She had trusted Rochdale when she was a
child, but he had turned on her and shown his true colors--she
still didn't know the reason.

Just as she still didn't know the reason why
she had responded to his embrace. Granted, it had been her first
kiss. Yet she had never experienced that sensational molten
pleasure since then. What would it feel like if Rochdale kissed her
again? She quickly pushed the treacherous thought aside and
proceeded on her way.

She'd decided she would marry Carlisle,
hadn't she? He was faithful, good, and trustworthy. She would live
a comfortable life and find happiness in her children and her work.
Alexandra shrugged away any misgivings as she entered the
observatory.

Rochdale sat at her workbench, engrossed in
her journals. He stood up when she came in. "Was Robert glad to see
you?" he asked.

For one splendid moment, Alex felt warmed by
his intense golden-brown eyes; just as if the years had never
passed, as if their friendship was still intact. He'd always been
ruggedly good looking with hard chiseled features, the embodiment
of every woman's dream.

At thirty-five years of age, Rochdale was in
prime physical condition. He had the muscular build of a born
athlete. His sandy-colored hair was swept into the Brutus style.
His face was molded like a statue's with a straight patrician nose,
a long jaw bone, a hint of a cleft in his strong chin and those
sculpted lips that had claimed her own in this very room many years
ago. Best not to think of that now.

"Alexandra?" Rochdale's deep voice broke her
reverie.

She blinked and shook her head. "Yes, he was
glad to see me and I was very glad to see him," she replied. "I
haven't thanked you for all you've done for him."

"I did nothing he wouldn't have done in
return," he said harshly. The warmth left his eyes and Alexandra
wondered why.

"How is he doing this morning?" Rochdale
said, after a short pause.

"Better than I expected." She forced herself
to speak cheerfully, trying to ignore the awkwardness that lay
between them. "Now that he's home, I hope he will get well
quickly."

"I'm sure he will." He sat down again,
seemingly dismissing Robert from his mind. "I've been reading your
journals. You've got an extraordinary amount of data here. I didn't
know you were so dedicated in continuing your father's work." He
tapped the journal he was holding with one long finger. "So, you
believe there is an eighth planet beyond the George. When did you
discover George's erratic orbital pattern?"

Alexandra walked over to the table and sat
down, forgetting to ask why he sounded hesitant about Robert's
recovery. "You know Papa was always fascinated with the new planet.
He never let us forget he was visiting Mr. Herschel when the great
discovery was made."

She began to search systematically through
the vast stack of records. In a few moments, she found what she was
looking for. "This is when Papa first became aware something was
pulling the George out of its regular elliptical orbit. And yes, he
believed it was another planet." She handed the journal to Damien.
He sat back as he examined the data.

Alexandra straightened the papers and
covertly studied Rochdale's strong profile and tried not to sigh.
She'd enjoyed working alongside her father and this man when she
was a child. The three of them had spent many happy hours studying
the heavens together. What had happened? Why had Rochdale withdrawn
his friendship? Would she ever understand?

"Papa continued his observations, but fell
ill shortly after his discovery," she said, pushing away the sad
thoughts. "He made me promise on his deathbed to continue the
search for the eighth planet."

Rockdale shot her one inscrutable glance
before continuing his examination of her charts.

Standing up, Alex adjusted her skirts. "If
you're truly interested, I'll be happy to tell you about it. I
don't know about you, but I'm famished. I came to inform you
breakfast is ready to be served."

As she led the way downstairs, she heard
Rochdale mumble something under his breath. "I beg your pardon, my
lord?" she asked, over her shoulder.

The viscount shook his head. "I was just
thinking you are full of surprises, Miss Turlington." Alexandra
could see the thought didn't please him at all.

****

The breakfast parlor was resplendent with
sunshine as light streamed in through the mullioned windows. At the
side-board, Alex and Damien helped themselves to a breakfast of
eggs, kippers, beefsteak, fresh baked scones with marmalade, and
hot coffee. Damien held a chair for Alexandra, then took his place
opposite. Alex applied herself to her food.

As he spread butter on a hot scone, he
asked, "Are you satisfied that Robert is on the mend?"

"Yes, though I'm vexed to death with him,"
she said. "I don't see why he couldn't have sent word to me. I've
been sick with worry."

Damien shrugged his shoulders. "That was bad
of him, but understandable."

"
I
don't understand."

"You wouldn't, of course," he murmured,
biting into the scone.

"Excuse me, my lord?" She
stared at him across the table. "Just
why
wouldn't I
understand?"

"Because you're a woman," he remarked
cryptically.

"I see," she said.

"Have you sent for the doctor yet?" Damien
asked.

"As a matter of fact, I
have. Robert's eyes are over-bright and I suspect he'll be in a
high fever by this evening. I
do
understand some things, my lord." Alexandra
stirred her coffee. "Dr. Heron will come as soon as he is able.
He's taken care of Robert and me for years and will know what to do
to make him more comfortable." Alex took a bite of
kipper.

Damien waited for her to continue. He
watched as she raised her eyes questioningly. "How do you think
Robert is coping with his injury?" he asked suddenly.

Alexandra laid her fork beside her plate.
"I'm not sure. He seems despondent, which is natural, of course.
I'm afraid it's going to take time and patience before he heals
emotionally," she said slowly. "Robert will have to learn to accept
the loss of his arm. He'll need all of our support and help in
order to feel competent again."

Damien nodded. "I agree with you. He's lost
much of his self-confidence. It will take hard work and
determination to set him right." He sipped his coffee, studying her
over the cup rim. "He'll have to learn to ride all over again. For
that matter, he must learn to do many things differently in order
to compensate for the lack of his right arm."

Alexandra toyed with her napkin, folding it
into pleats. "Yes," she said, obviously thinking the matter over.
"And he'll need someone to help him, someone who won't show pity or
feel sorry for him."

"If you don't mind, Miss Turlington, I
should like to stay and help Robert."

Alexandra gaped at him as if he'd grown
horns. Damien could understand her amazement. He had challenged her
notions about him. He knew how much she despised his
reputation.

After she recovered her composure, he saw a
mixture of surprise and relief on her face. "Yes--of course," she
replied. "Naturally, you'd be the very one. Robert's fortunate to
have you for a friend."

Damien eyed her curiously. Was she glad or
appalled that he was staying? Perhaps she felt a combination of
both. Was there a hint of regret in her voice? Did she miss the
loss of the easy camaraderie they once shared? "Tell me about your
research," he said, abruptly changing the subject.

"Are you truly interested or merely being
polite?" she asked.

"I'm never polite, my dear, or have you
forgotten?" He grinned as her eyes widened. "Tell me about the
George; I find I'm fascinated with the theory. Surprised, Miss
Turlington?"

Alexandra lifted her chin, a dangerous glint
in her eye. "Yes, I'm surprised. I didn't think you were such a
serious astronomer."

"I'm a mere dabbler in the field. Your
father taught me an appreciation of the stars, and I've never lost
interest."

He stepped to the sideboard and helped
himself to more beefsteak. "Believe it or not," he continued over
his shoulder, "I built an observatory at Avenall Abbey. It's
similar to your father's and the telescope lens was ground to his
specifications."

Alexandra stared at him
again. As he resumed his place, he smiled sardonically. "A man can
enjoy a variety of interests, Miss Turlington. People may call me
Demon, but I don't waste
all
my time in decadent amusements, I assure
you."

Damien waited for her response. Would she
recognize her own words? Words that had cut through his jaded
heart, words he knew even then to be true?

Alexandra rose from the table, her cheeks
flushed. "Years ago, I said some unkind things to you. I'm sorry,
but you must admit the provocation was great."