Jacquie D'Alessandro - [Regency Historical 04] (18 page)

Embarrassment suffused her, but before she could snatch her hand away, he’d lifted it and pressed his lips against her palm. One of her callused, work-worn palms that she was always careful to hide from the wealthy members of Society.

He lowered her hand, then slowly stroked his thumb over the spot he’d just kissed. Another wave of embarrassment rolled over her as he looked at her hand, knowing he’d see the nicks, old scars, and healed-over
burns from years of hard work. She tried to gently extricate her hand, but he wouldn’t let her.

“You work hard,” he said, brushing his finger over a callus.

“Some of us have to.”

The instant the words left her mouth she wished she could yank them back. But he didn’t seem offended. Rather, he nodded gravely. “You’re right.” Raising her hand once again, he pressed her palm against his cheek. “I like the feel of your skin on mine. The touch of your hands…without your gloves.”

A tremor tingled up her arm from where her palm rested against his clean-shaven face. “My hands are…not pretty.”

“You’re correct. Like you, they’re exquisite.” He smiled. “Have I mentioned that I think you’re exquisite?”

Dear God, her mind insisted she stop this flirtatious banter. But it was impossible when her frantically beating heart refused to obey. “Not in the last five minutes.”

“A terrible oversight. One I shall correct as soon as I send my brother on his way.” He released her hand and, after a quick assessment of her attire, reached out to make a minor adjustment to her bodice and skirt, then brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “Perfect,” he murmured.

After tunneling his fingers through his own hair, upon which her hands had wreaked havoc, he tugged his jacket into place and extended his elbow. “Shall we?”

She blinked. “Shall we what?”

“Retire to my study where my brother awaits.”

“Surely he wishes to see you privately.”

“As he interrupted us at an extremely inopportune moment, I’m not particularly interested in his wishes. You said you wanted to read my cards in a different room, and my study would provide a new location.” A
half smile tilted his lips. “And I’m certain I can talk Nathan into having a private reading there as well. One for which you’ll charge him an exorbitant fee. Heh, heh, heh.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “That is a positively
evil
laugh, my lord.”

He ran a single fingertip down her arm then entwined their fingers, a breath-stealing gesture that felt warm and delightfully intimate. “Colin,” he said.

His name reverberated through her mind, then she repeated softly, “Colin,” savoring the taste of his name on her tongue. “My name is—”

“Alexandra.”

“How did you know?”

“I asked Lady Malloran. I’ve a book on name origins which I consulted after her party. Alexandra is of Greek origin, and it means protector of mankind. Given the cause so close to your heart, it appears you were aptly named.”

“What does Colin mean?”

“I’ve no idea, but if I had to guess, I’d say it means ‘man who wants to kiss Alexandra again.’”

She stilled. Lord knows she wanted him to. Far too much. Which unsettled and frightened her. She knew where another kiss would lead—a road that would be most foolhardy for her to travel. Especially with a man who, given their divergent stations in life, would never be able to offer her anything more than a quick tumble.

Her lack of control, the way she’d abandoned her resolve, confused and irritated her. Normally she was very levelheaded. Disciplined. Yet a moment in this man’s company seemingly robbed her of her common sense. Well, there would simply be no more kissing. She’d not make the same mistake twice.
You’ve already made that mistake twice
, her inner voice reminded her.

Fine. She’d not make the same mistake
three
times.

He leaned forward, clearly intending to kiss her, and she forced her feet to move away, pulling her hand free from his. “Your brother is waiting.”

He nodded slowly, regarding her through serious eyes. “Yes. This is neither the time nor place.”

“Actually, there is
no
proper time or place, my lord.”

“Colin. And what do you mean by that?”

“A single kiss was one thing, but repeating it today was…”
Delightful. Incredible. Unforgettable
. “…not wise. Doing it again would be foolhardy indeed.”

“Why?”

Because with only two kisses you’ve made me want things I shouldn’t. Things I can’t have
. “Surely you don’t need to ask.”

“No, I don’t,” he said quietly. “I feel the deep attraction between us. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly.

“I don’t believe that’s going to be an option.”

“We’ll simply ignore it.”

“Again, I don’t believe that’s going to be an option.”

Silence swelled between them, and she felt an overwhelming need to fidget under his quiet, steady regard. Finally, he said, “I suggest we both think on the matter, to see if we can arrive at any other solutions. In the meantime, let’s see what my brother wants and apprise him of your situation. Since you’ll be staying at Wexhall’s, it’s important Nathan know everything so as to be on guard.”

Not trusting her voice, Alex merely nodded and allowed him to escort her from the room.

There was no point in thinking on the matter, because the only other option would be for them to continue their intimacies and eventually become lovers.

And she simply wouldn’t, couldn’t do that. The risk to her reputation, not to mention her heart, was too
great. No, she simply wouldn’t, couldn’t consider becoming his lover.

Liar
, her inner voice sneered.

She managed, with a great deal of effort to ignore it.

Almost.

The first thing Colin saw when he entered his
study was Nathan, sprawled in his favorite overstuffed chair, his none-too-clean boots propped on his favorite leather ottoman, popping a piece of his favorite marzipan—an orange—into his mouth. The second thing he saw was B.C., sprawled on his favorite Turkish hearth rug, fast asleep, one plate-sized paw resting over what appeared to be one of his favorite boots.

He pressed his fingertips to his temple in an attempt to hold back the onset of a throbbing headache.

Upon seeing Alexandra, Nathan’s eyes lit up, and he jumped to his feet and brushed his hands together, clearly to rid them of the sugary remnants of Colin’s favorite confections.

“Is that my boot?” Colin asked, jerking his chin toward the sleeping B.C.

“Yes. But it’s the same one from earlier today, so I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“How delightful.” He turned to Alexandra. “Madame Larchmont, my brother, Dr. Nathan Oliver and
his boot-chewing dog, B.C. Nathan, may I present Madame Larchmont, the renowned fortune-teller.”

Nathan made her a formal bow, and Colin noted how avidly his brother’s sharp gaze roamed Alexandra’s face. “A pleasure, Madame Larchmont.”

Alexandra, who’d retrieved her gloves before leaving the drawing room, extended her lace-covered hand, and Colin inwardly frowned at how badly he wanted to peel off that glove and caress her fingers. “Likewise, Dr. Oliver.”

“I’ve never met a fortune-teller before.”

“And I’ve never seen such a huge dog,” she said with a smile, nodding toward the hearth rug. “He’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“He’s a menace,” Colin muttered, eyeing his ruined boot.

“But a friendly one,” Nathan said. His gaze bounced between the two of them, then a speculative gleam glittered in his eyes. “Would your first name be Alexandra?”

Bloody hell. Colin shot his brother a dark look that Nathan blithely ignored.

“Why, yes, it is.”

“I suspected as much.” Nathan smiled. “I’ve heard of you—”

“He reads the
Times
,” Colin broke in, shooting Nathan a glare meant to incinerate him on the spot. “Cover to cover. Obsessively.” Without giving Nathan the opportunity to refute his assertion, he quickly continued, “Actually, Nathan, I’m glad you’re here—”

“Yes, that is
patently
obvious—”

“—As there is something important we need to discuss.” He indicated the grouping of chairs around the fireplace. “Let’s sit. I’ll ring for tea.”

He turned toward Alexandra, who stood in a pool of
golden sunlight slanting in from the wall of windows, and instantly realized why Nathan had guessed her name. While nothing in her dress or demeanor indicated they’d shared a passionate embrace, someone as observant as Nathan wouldn’t miss the lingering rosy flush of arousal that colored her cheeks. Or the deeper rose of her just-kissed lips. Damn it, one look at her, and all he could think about was yanking her into his arms and—

He shook his head to clear the erotic image of her entwined around him. In his bed. Naked. Aroused. Holding her arms out to him—

Later. He could think of that later. After his far-too-observant brother departed. Clearing his throat, he said to her, “Would you prefer chocolate instead of tea?”

Her gaze met his, and he actually had to clench his hands to keep from reaching out to touch her. “Chocolate would be lovely,” she said softly.

“Yes, chocolate would be lovely,” Nathan echoed. “And some of Cook’s biscuits. Extra biscuits, as you’re sadly now out of marzipan.”

While Nathan and Alexandra settled themselves near the fireplace, Colin pulled the bell cord, and after telling Ellis what they wanted, joined them. He noted that Nathan had strategically chosen the chair opposite the settee where Alexandra sat—a spot where he could fully study her face and reactions. Certainly it’s where Colin would have sat if he’d been his overly curious brother.

After sitting next to Alexandra on the settee, he said without preamble, “I have reason to believe Madame Larchmont is in danger.” He turned to her, and said, “Please tell him what you told me.”

She drew a deep breath, then related the story of the overheard conversation and the fact that she’d heard the same voice again at the Newtrebble soiree to Nathan, who listened intently and without comment.
When she finished, Colin told him everything about Lord Malloran’s and the footman’s deaths.

At the end of his recitation, Nathan frowned. “I wonder if the intended victim at Wexhall’s party might be Wexhall himself?”

Colin leaned forward. “Do you have a reason to believe he’s in danger?”

“He told me earlier today that he was attacked outside his club last week. He fought off his assailant, who then escaped, and regarded the incident as a random robbery.”

“But perhaps it was more,” Colin mused. “Did he see who it was?”

“No. It was dark, and the man wore a hoodlike mask.”

Colin nodded slowly and sat back. “Wexhall is certainly someone whose death would ‘give rise to inquiries.’ And over the years I’m sure he’s made enemies.” He withdrew a piece of vellum from his waistcoat pocket.

“These are the names of the people who were standing nearby last night when Madame heard the voice again.”

Nathan unfolded the paper, then frowned as he studied the names. “With the exception of the servants and Mr. Jennsen, who I’ve heard is very wealthy, all are very well respected members of the peerage.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Alexandra said with a frown, “that someone may have been able to leave the room quickly before I looked up from retrieving my reticule under the table. I’m afraid the shock of actually hearing the voice again stunned me for several seconds.”

“Perhaps,” Colin said. He briefly closed his eyes to visualize the Newtrebble drawing room. “There was an alcove situated close to where your table was. There was also a grouping of potted palms that could easily have concealed someone.”

“Then that list is useless,” she said, her voice tinged with frustration.

“Not at all,” Colin said quickly. “There is merely a
chance
someone else might have been present. We know for certain that these people were.” He returned his attention to Nathan. “I’d appreciate it if you’d show that list to Wexhall. He might know something about someone on there that we don’t. Also warn him the attack last week might not have been a random incident.”

Nathan tucked the vellum into his pocket. “All right.”

“Madame Larchmont must be protected while we try to discover who is behind this plot and ascertain who the intended target is. I think the safest place for her is Wexhall’s town house.”

Nathan nodded slowly. “Yes, I agree.”

“Good. Victoria can issue Madame the invitation to stay at the house until the party. Her visit can be explained with some story about her wanting to prepare the house for the spirits’ arrival or some such talk. Between you and Wexhall and his staff on the spot, and me only down the road and escorting her everywhere she goes, she’ll be safe. We’ll make certain one of us is always nearby during the soirees scheduled from now until Wexhall’s fete, in case she hears the voice again.”

Nathan nodded, then looked at Alexandra. “This plan is amenable to you?”

“Yes, as long as it is amenable to Lord Wexhall.”

“Have no fear on that score,” Colin said. He turned to Nathan. “After our reading, I’ll escort Madame Larchmont home so she can gather whatever essentials she needs while you return to Wexhall’s to apprise him of what’s going on and make the necessary arrangements for her arrival.”

A knock sounded on the door. Colin called out, “Come in,” and Ellis entered, bearing a silver tray
which he set on the low cherrywood, rectangular table in front of the settee. The delicious scent of warm chocolate and fresh biscuits filled the air. After thanking then dismissing Ellis, he said to Alexandra, “Would you pour while I prepare the plates?”

“Of course.”

While they were busy with their tasks, Nathan asked, “What did you mean when you said ‘after our reading’?”

“Card reading. I prevailed upon Madame to give you a private reading. As her services are much in demand, such a session doesn’t come cheap, but it’s worth every penny.”

“
You’ve
had your cards read?”

“I have indeed. Twice. And I’m having them read again today.”

Colin recognized all too well the deviltry gleaming in Nathan’s eyes. “One can only marvel at your sudden attraction for things of a mystic nature,” Nathan said. His gaze shifted to Alexandra. “Tell me, Madame. Were you able to discern any of his deep, dark secrets?”

“I don’t have any deep dark secrets,” Colin said, a bit more sharply than he’d intended.

“Pshaw. He hasn’t always been the proper, priggish, stick-in-the-mud you see before you now, Madame.”

Colin shoved back the memories that threatened to intrude, then looked at Alexandra and heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Do you see what I’ve had to put up with my entire life?”

Clearly hiding a smile, she asked Nathan, “What do you mean?”

“He used to slide down the banister.”

“How shocking, my lord,” she said, slanting her gaze toward Colin, her lips twitching.

“
And
steal the stablemaster’s clothes every Wednesday when the man bathed in the lake.”

“You say that as if you didn’t help,” Colin said mildly. He added another biscuit to Alexandra’s plate and grinned at her. “Besides, we didn’t
steal
his clothes—we merely relocated them.”

“When we were lads, this supposedly upstanding peer of the realm,” Nathan said with a dramatically injured sniff, pointing at Colin, “used to toss me in the lake.”

“Only when you deserved it,” Colin pointed out.

“Surely I didn’t deserve it
every day
.”

“That’s what
you
think.”

“He finally stopped when I began pelting him with eggs,” Nathan said to Alexandra in a smug tone. He leaned forward and confided, “I have fiendishly accurate aim.”

“Those eggs
hurt
,” Colin said, involuntarily rubbing the back of his head where’d he’d been hit more than once.

“How much could an
egg
have hurt?” Alexandra asked, clearly amused as she handed him and Nathan their cups of chocolate.

“You have no idea. And the mess. Especially after it hardened.” He made a face, and she laughed. Then he smiled. “But I had my revenge. I made up a batch of special eggs by carefully making a small hole in the shell and removing the insides. I then inserted money inside.”

“
My
money,” Nathan chimed in. “That he’d stolen from me.”

“If he’d hidden it in a cleverer spot, I wouldn’t have been able to find it,” he said, ignoring Nathan. “I made myself an easy target and he ended up throwing all his money at me. Last time he pelted me with eggs.”

“Very clever,” she said.

“I’m a very clever fellow.”

Bloody hell, her lovely eyes smiling into his damn near lulled him into a trance. Pulling himself together, he handed her her plate, then Nathan his.

“Why did I only receive
one
biscuit?” Nathan asked, eyeing Colin’s and Alexandra’s plates, both of which held four biscuits.

“Because you saw fit to eat all my marzipan. Countries have gone to war for less provocation.”

Nathan shot him a glare. “Just for that, I’m inclined not to give you the gift I brought.”

“Good. Because knowing you and your penchant for accepting animals of all sorts into your home, your gift is likely of the barking, meowing, quacking, or mooing variety.”

Nathan’s expression turned innocent—
too
innocent, instantly igniting Colin’s suspicions. Before he could question his brother further, however, Nathan turned his attention back to Alexandra. “Tell me, Madame, do you have any brothers?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Consider yourself fortunate. Any sisters?”

“No, but I live with my dearest friend, Emma, who is the sister of my heart.”

“And is Emma a fortune-teller as well?”

“No. She’s an orange girl.” She lifted her chin a fraction, as if expecting a rebuff given her friend’s lowly occupation, but Colin held no fear on that account with Nathan.

True to form, Nathan nodded in an approving manner, then said, “My wife is very fond of oranges. Could you arrange for your friend to come to the Wexhall town house so I may purchase some for her?”

She hesitated, and although her expression gave nothing away, Colin sensed her surprise. “I’d be delighted.”

“Excellent. Now, tell me, how do we go about conducting this card reading? I’m fascinated.”

“First you must pay the fee up front,” Colin said, enjoying himself thoroughly, then taking a large, deliberate bite of biscuit. After swallowing, he said, “Then
you ask Madame a question. Then she’ll deal the cards and tell you all sorts of interesting things about yourself. It’s quite the craze this Season.”

“I’m ready to begin,” Nathan said, scowling at his empty plate. “As I only had one biscuit and all.”

After he and Alexandra had finished their drinks and biscuits, Colin called for Ellis, who removed the silver platter. Alexandra slipped her silk-wrapped bundle from her pocket, then said to Nathan, “Given your kindness in arranging for my safety, Dr. Oliver, I cannot charge you for your reading.”

“Of course you can,” Colin insisted. He doubled the figure she’d charged him, added a bit more, then tossed out the number to Nathan, reminding him, “Payable in advance.”

His brother’s eyes widened at the ridiculous sum, but he dutifully retrieved the money from his waistcoat pocket without comment and passed the money to Alexandra, who, appearing embarrassed, slipped it into her pocket. Mollified—and smug—that someone had paid more than he, Colin leaned back in his chair and waited.

Instead of shuffling, however, Alexandra looked at him and raised her brows. “Dr. Oliver paid for a
private
reading, my lord.”

Nathan waved his hand. “I’ve no objection to his staying.” He grinned. “Especially as I have every intention of remaining for his.”